Chapter 32: Past Reason
Taurhîn bore Caladhel and Thranduil away into the forest, following the course of the Ereduin southeast from the mountains. Thranduil whispered only once into Taurhîn's ear before they departed and gave the beast no further instruction. The Lord of the Forest knew their destination well. The hart kept a modest but steady pace and Thranduil made no effort to hurry him.
Caladhel had found Thranduil's mood unchanged when she returned to the gate and he was silent for the length of their journey. It was not overlong, less than an hour, and Caladhel took the time to inspect the forest thoroughly. It gave her something to focus her senses on besides the scent of Thranduil's neck, the warmth of her body pressed against his back, and the way his right hand came to rest upon the laced fingers of hers, enveloping them completely. The wood provided some distraction from him, but not enough, and Caladhel was relieved when they finally arrived at their destination. She was able to put a little space between them to collect her wits and calm the fluttering of her heart.
They dismounted at a stone outcropping overlooking the river. It was open to the sky and allowed one to view the expanse of the waters in both directions as the river passed. The rapids were fierce and the series of waterfalls upstream of the terrace were deadly, to be sure. No elf or beast could survive them.
Thranduil took a seat on the stone outcropping and closed his eyes. The rhythm of his breath slowed and the tension on his face and in his form slowly receded. The waters roared beneath them in a deep and steady thrum, so unlike Lórien's, and yet they possessed a meditative quality of their own. Caladhel followed the King's example. She did not sit, but closed her eyes and focused her senses on the sound of the churning river. The light of the morning sun warmed her face and she was surprised to feel quite at peace after a period of silent contemplation.
Caladhel did not know how long the silence between them extended, but eventually Thranduil spoke.
"What do you think?" he asked.
Caladhel opened her eyes and blinked a few times to readjust to the light. She stepped closer the edge and peered downward. It was a hundred foot drop at least with jagged rocks just below the water's surface. "I should not want to fall in."
"Not so peaceful as your glade in Lórien."
"Not quite."
Thranduil's gaze followed the course of the river through the gorge. In the distance it turned eastward and disappeared from sight. "There is a bend in the river a few miles south where the water pools. Parents teach their children to swim there. The waters are less dangerous, but the current moves quickly away from shore. One must still be cautious."
Caladhel was not surprised by the last part. "I have come to suspect that everything is more dangerous in this land."
To this, Thranduil gave no answer. When she turned his way he looked stricken. Caladhel cursed herself for her thoughtless appraisal of his kingdom. It had not been her intent to offend him. "I am sorry. My words were careless."
"No," Thranduil replied. "You speak the truth. You have been in danger ever since you set foot in this forest. First from me, then from orcs."
The weight of these truths bore down on him, but Caladhel would not allow them to gain purchase. "I do not fear you," said Caladhel, "or orcs, or this forest."
"Perhaps you should. It is not safe for you here."
The vehemence with which Thranduil said this left Caladhel confused. She stayed because she believed he wanted her to. Had she been mistaken? "Do you wish now that I had returned to Lórien with my uncle?"
Thranduil was startled by her question. He had not meant to give her cause to doubt his heart, despite his words. "No," said Thranduil. "I am too selfish to wish that. I want you here with me, now, and forever."
Caladhel turned back towards the river to hide her smile. "Forever is a long time," she said.
"I know, and yet now I think it might be too short a measure."
Caladhel feared so as well. An odd musing it was, for she had never given much thought to time's ending before now. It was a silly thing to dwell on, and she allowed it to pass, and focused instead on the present.
"Do you come here often?" she asked.
"Only in the last few years. This was my father's sanctuary. He would come here whenever he was troubled. I thought it a strange habit of his when I was a prince. Now that I am king, I understand. I scattered his ashes here."
"His ashes?" Caladhel could not contain her surprise. It was not a custom of the elves to burn their dead, except in desperate circumstances. Dagorlad was surely one of those, but still, she knew the bodies of Kings Amdír and Gil-galad had been returned to their people. She did not know why the King of Greenwood would merit a different fate.
"We were outnumbered by our dead twice over," said Thranduil. "We could not bring them home. We burned them instead, as many as we could recover, and prayed that Namo would gather their souls to Mandos. Before the battle my father commanded me to do with him as I would our people, should he, himself, fall. I could have disobeyed him, I suppose, and brought his body home, but I had not the will to ignore his final command. I burned his body and Brandil's as well and returned with their ashes."
Caladhel offered what little comfort she could in the face of such tragedy. "You will see them again one day."
Thranduil knew not if this was a customary phrase to Caladhel, or if she believed the words of comfort she spoke. "Do you truly believe that?" he asked.
"I do."
Thranduil could read no lie in her eyes, but it was a small comfort to him. "I suppose my faith is not as strong as yours."
"I speak not of faith," she countered. "I have known those who lived long in Valinor. They saw the dead reborn."
"And you believe them?"
"I have no reason not to."
Of course not, they were her kin, as Túven had been so eager to point out only hours before. "I suppose that is a difference between us."
Caladhel watched as Thranduil's thoughts turned inward. He stared at the water, but his eyes focused on nothing and his brow furrowed. "Will you tell me what troubles you?" she asked.
Thranduil's thoughts lingered on his uncle and the argument that plagued him since they parted the night before. "My uncle," he replied. "We argued last night. I believe his judgment clouded. He thinks the same of mine."
"So he told me."
"You spoke with him?"
"This morning, before you arrived in the hall."
"What did he say?"
"He believes I have cast a spell on you."
Thranduil could not suppress a bark of laughter and the frown that dominated his face throughout the morning struggled to maintain its hold. "You have," he said.
"I am serious."
"So am I."
Caladhel thought he just might be. It made her uneasy, this talk of spells, for Caladhel had no such power so far as she was aware. "He said he would see it broken," she added.
"Túven says many things," Thranduil replied. "Irrational things. I did not realize how twisted his view of the world had become until now. You have shined a light on the shadows he casts and I cannot pretend I am blinded."
Caladhel did not like being the cause of a rift between Thranduil and his uncle, despite her dislike for Túven personally. She feared that perhaps Túven was right and there was some dark magic involved in Thranduil's want for her. She stepped closer to where Thranduil sat on the rock ledge. They were the same height now that he sat thus, and she came to stand between his knees. She reached out her right hand and tentatively touched the left side of his face. Thranduil closed his eyes at the contact and breathed deep.
"Can you feel my hand?" she asked.
"Yes."
Caladhel shook her head in dismay. "I do not know how that is possible. If it is a spell, I did not cast it."
Thranduil's hand rose to cover hers. He turned his face and kissed the palm of her hand before setting it to rest upon his heart. "It does not matter," he said.
Caladhel did not understand how he could think that. "Are you not curious to know the cause?"
"Of course," he replied, "but there are so many things in this world which are a mystery. I do not know where the sun hides at night, and yet I marvel at the dawn. It is enough to experience the miracle without knowing its cause."
Caladhel could see in his eyes that he meant it, but a worry gnawed at the edges of her ordered mind, one she simply could not ignore. "What if the spell should break some day or you find my touch was only imagined?"
Thranduil heard the fear behind her question. He thought it foolish, but would not dare to laugh. He squeezed Caladhel's hand and pressed it firmly to his heart. "Do I imagine you now?" he asked.
"No," she replied.
"Did I imagine that night, a year ago, when you caressed the ruined flesh of my cheek? Or the day you pressed your lips to mine, despite the sight of my true face?"
To both his questions she smiled shyly and shook her head.
"Then there is no cause to fear. The spell will not break. My heart will not allow it."
Caladhel drew a quavering breath, overwhelmed as she was with emotion. She took a step closer, into his arms and kissed him. His arms drew her close, so close, and he returned her kiss with his own. Caladhel wished to remain locked in his embrace forever and she knew Thranduil wished the same. His lips moved from hers to trail soft kisses along her jawline and neck to her collarbone where at last he set his forehead to rest.
Thranduil drew in a deep breath. Everything about Caladhel was intoxicating – the lavender soap mixed with her scent. Her skin – so smooth, flawless beneath his lips. The warmth of her body and her breath. She overwhelmed him and he was forced to halt the trail of his kisses at the nape of her neck. Thranduil took a minute to master himself, schooling his hands to remain where they lay upon the small of her back. They wished to stray, but he halted them. It was no easy task, for he found now that his body craved her as much as his soul. It was a strange realization, foreign as well, for as long as he could remember his soul was ever his body's master. In this moment, however, Thranduil found his fëa and hröa were one in purpose and he could not determine rightly which of them held the reins.
He straightened and his right hand rose to trace the line of her jaw with his fingers. They followed the trail of kisses he placed there not a moment before, recalling, too, the marks he left there many months before. It had been so easy for him to hurt her, he had done so without effort, and this knowledge caused Thranduil more fear than he had ever known.
"There is something else I have wished to discuss with you since the skirmish at the farm, but I have hesitated to voice my concerns."
Caladhel knew exactly where this conversation was headed. "You spoke with Roewen of our argument."
"I have." Thranduil took a deep breath and plunged in right at the heart of the matter, offering empathy, as much as he could. "I understand your want to help Nensell. She was my friend, as well as my warden."
Caladhel could see the truth of it in his eyes. She saw something else, too, something she had not wanted to believe when she argued with Roewen. "Roewen said you would choose for her to die, rather than see us leave the trees."
Thranduil sighed and shook his head. "I would not choose for anyone to die, but I would choose to keep you safe, above all others."
"Even above the King of Greenwood?" she asked.
"Above him as well."
"That is foolish," she said.
"Why so?"
"You are more important than I am."
There was a time not too long ago when Thranduil would have agreed. No longer. "Not to me," he said.
Thranduil studied Caladhel's expression carefully. She looked about ready to argue, but stopped herself, perhaps guessing rightly that it was an argument she would never win. She conceded defeat, if reluctantly.
"What is it you would have me do?" she asked.
"I would have you obey the commands of those tasked with protecting you, even if it is not your wish to do so, especially in such a case."
Caladhel considered his request – or command, as it more rightfully was. She was not overly comfortable with the idea of ceding her will to others. It was not in her nature. But what Thranduil asked of her was more than reasonable. She knew that. She was simply wary of offering him a promise she could not be sure she could keep. She gave him the best compromise she could offer.
"I will try to obey," said Caladhel. "That is the most I can promise you. I am willful, you know."
Thranduil reached out and took hold of both her hands. "I know. It is one of the things I love most about you."
Caladhel's heart leapt at his last. He took hold of both her hands and lifted her right to kiss her fingers. He repeated the gesture with her left and Caladhel cringed in discomfort.
Caladhel's pained expression was fleeting, but Thranduil did not miss it. He cradled her left hand with both his own and drew back her sleeve to examine her arm. A slight discoloration was visible on her forearm just below her wrist. It had not been there the day before.
"How did you come by this?" Thranduil asked.
"It is nothing," said Caladhel a bit too quickly. "I did not even notice it until now."
"That is not what I asked," said Thranduil, dismissing her attempt at evasion.
Caladhel had decided earlier that it would serve no purpose to tell Thranduil about his uncle's behavior beyond his words. But it seemed she would not be able to keep the details from him. She feared what he might do in response, for she had not forgotten his words to her many months before with regards to Haldir and the fate that would have befallen him had he been guilty of harming her.
"Your uncle was angry when we spoke," she replied. "He took hold of my arm when I turned away from him. It was only for a moment. I did not think it would leave a mark."
Thranduil said nothing in answer. He continued to stare down at her arm. His expression grew darker by the minute until at last he leaned down and placed a feather light kiss upon her wrist.
"I will have words with him."
Caladhel did not like Thranduil's tone and she feared these words he had in mind might not be so civil. "Can you not try reasoning with him first?"
"I have tried that," Thranduil replied. "He does not hear reason any longer. Perhaps he will heed something else."
Caladhel did not ask what that 'something else' might be, for she feared to know the answer.
The return journey was as silent as the first, only this time Thranduil's maudlin mood was replaced by anger. Caladhel could sense it in the set of his shoulders and in the way he urged Taurhîn forward towards home. They made much better time on the way back to the palace and no sooner had Thranduil and Caladhel dismounted then two familiar faces hailed them.
"My lord, my lady," Roewen called from across the yard. She was not alone. Faentôr was with her and the pair met them half way.
"Captains." Thranduil greeted with a nod.
"We have been looking for you," said Roewen, though she did not direct this statement to her king. Her words were meant for Caladhel.
"For me? Whatever for?"
"You have been nominated," said Roewen.
"For… what?"
"To take Lord Iordor's place as judge in the archery tournament," said Faentôr.
Caladhel was more than surprised by the invitation. She was not a native of Greenwood, nor was she a member of their guard. Such were requirements of tournament judges in her homeland. "Who else will be judging?" she asked, for there were usually three.
"Haldor and I have that honor," Faentôr replied.
Caladhel was unsure it was appropriate for her to accept such a role, despite their having asked. "Would it not be more appropriate for King Thranduil to take Lord Iordor's place?" she asked.
This seemed like a reasonable option to Caladhel, but all three elves, Thranduil included, laughed and shook their heads.
"Do not be absurd," said Roewen. "Only past winners may sit as judge. Our beloved king here has never made it past the fourth round. You did claim to have won a tournament before. You were not lying to me, were you?"
"I have won three," said Caladhel, "but it has been centuries since I last competed."
"That will do." She turned to her king then, to address him. "We will need to steal the Lady from you for a short while, my lord, if you don't mind."
"What for?" Caladhel asked.
"We must determine who will be head judge," said Faentôr, "and we three must come to an agreement on the rules."
Caladhel's eyes sought Thranduil's.
"Go on," he said. "I have a few matters to attend to this afternoon." He looked to Roewen. "You will see her back to Limrond when you are done."
"Of course," she replied. "I will not let her out of my sight."
Thranduil nodded to the warden, and after, he turned to Caladhel and kissed her hand. "Have fun," he said, before he took his leave of them.
Faentôr watched his king's farewell with a smirk and when he was certain Thranduil was out of earshot, he said to no one, "I never thought to see him in love."
Caladhel blushed furiously at the warden's comment and Roewen came quickly to her defense.
"Hush, Faentôr," said Roewen. "You are being rude."
Faentôr found Roewen's accusation deeply ironic, but wisely held his tongue. He offered Caladhel his arm. "My lady."
Caladhel took his arm while Roewen rolled her eyes at the ellon's gesture.
Faentôr answered Roewen's displeasure by extending his other arm to her. "My apologies, captain. Would you like one?" A bark of laughter was all she gave him in answer before she headed off towards the archery field. Faentôr and Caladhel followed after.
Thranduil strode through the palace gate and down his halls, passing servants and lords alike without acknowledging their greetings. On any other day he would have returned their pleasantries with a trite word or a nod. He would have gone to his chambers as well to change out of his riding clothes and into something more befitting a king. He did not bother with either. Instead, he took the most direct path to his uncle's study and, upon arrival, opened the door without knocking.
Túven was replacing a ledger on one of his many shelves when the door opened and his nephew appeared. He spied Thranduil out of the corner of his eye, but did not turn to greet him. That was his second mistake, for he read not the anger in his nephew's eyes as he passed through the door.
"What can I do for my king on this fine day?"
Túven received no answer. Thranduil crossed the room to his uncle's side in a few long strides, but he did not halt his forward momentum. Instead, he took Túven by the throat and slammed him into the wall behind his desk pinning him a few inches off the ground.
Túven had not been prepared for his nephew's attack. He clutched at Thranduil's wrist in a vain struggle for breath, for his nephew's greater height and strength were too much for the old counselor to overcome. Thranduil leaned in close and spoke into his uncle's ear to be sure Túven heard him.
"Were you any other ellon, I would kill you now."
He held his uncle in a deadly grip a few seconds longer before freeing him. Túven fell forward, gripping the edge of his desk for balance and gasping for breath. When at last his breathing calmed, Thranduil spoke again.
"I have tried reason," he said. "Now be warned. Should your ill will towards Caladhel manifest again in the physical world, you will join my father and Brandil."
Thranduil said no more, and parted company with his uncle before his anger changed his mind.
