Chapter 47: Souls Entwined

It was a long journey back to Caras Galadhon. Haldir and Thranduil rode silently, swiftly along the way. Belras, for his part, ignored the mellyrn sprigs they passed. He was as anxious as Haldir to return the King to his beloved Queen.

Thranduil spoke to Haldir again only upon reaching the northern gate. "Do you know where she might be?"

"I left her in Amroth's company. They were in his study."

Thranduil nodded his thanks and headed in the suggested direction. His stride was purposeful, his heart, less sure. He wanted Caladhel in his arms, now more than ever, but still he feared to see her again… and not to see her again, for a part of him worried now that his own selfishness had driven a wedge between them forever.

Had Thranduil been more sober of mind he would have known that train of thought a foolish one. She was his light, and he, hers. It would take more than arrogance and selfishness to lose her. She loved him despite these faults – and others.

Thranduil took the stairs into the canopy two at a time, passing several wardens as he neared Amroth's halls. They each stepped aside and the final ellon opened the door to Amroth's palace, ushering him inside.

When he reached Amroth's study, Thranduil knocked two times. He entered upon hearing Amroth's voice call, 'Come.' Inside, he found his wife and Amroth seated at a table. They were passing the time with a game of strategy, but by the look of the board, Caladhel's concentration was poor. Upon sighting him, she leapt from her chair. It teetered a moment from the force of her departure. She flung herself into his arms and he held her as tightly as he was held.

"Where were you? I was so worried."

He could hear it in her voice, the slightest of trembles. He breathed in the scent of her hair. She smelled always of lavender, even in winter. The fragrance calmed his soul.

"It was never my want to worry you," he managed.

"Where have you been?" she asked, drawing back a little so she might have a look at him.

Thranduil glanced in Amroth's direction. The King had already risen from his chair.

"If you will both excuse me," Amroth said. "I have somewhere else to be." And without another word he slipped out the door.

Thranduil watched him leave before his gaze returned to Caladhel. Her face was lined with worry. There was so much he needed to tell her, but he could not do so here. "Come home with me," he said.

"Home? To Greenwood?"

"To Greenwood."

"We are not set to depart for another week."

"Let us leave today. You and I and Belras. The company may follow in a week's time."

Thranduil was well aware he sounded mad. His wife gazed upon him curiously, unsure of what his pleading meant. Slowly, she nodded her head.

"We can leave whenever you wish." Looking down upon her finery, she added, "I must change into something suitable for travel."

"I will tell Iordor of our plans and meet you at the northern gate in an hour's time."

"An hour?" Caladhel's eyes widened a little at his urgency.

Thranduil knew an hour was not enough time to properly farewell her kin. He could see many questions in her eyes, but she merely nodded her head. Her assent won, he kissed her. Caladhel gasped in surprise when he lifted her off the floor and shivered at the intensity of his kiss. His hands wound through her hair, his mouth want to devour her. When her feet finally returned to the floor she was out of breath.

"I love you," Thranduil said.

"And I love you," Caladhel echoed, for she sensed he needed to hear her heart declared.

Thranduil took his wife's arm. He led them both out the door and through the hall to the paths beyond Amroth's palace. There they parted ways. Caladhel headed to their talan to change into her riding clothes and Thranduil left to find Iordor.

Caladhel had nearly reached her talan when Celebrían appeared upon the path. She fell in step with her cousin, but it required much effort to keep up with the hurried pace of Caladhel's stride.

"Where were you?" Celebrían asked. "We were meant to share the midday meal together. Did you forget?"

"I… yes… I was with Amroth," Caladhel said.

"Are you well?" Celebrían asked, for she was by no means blind to her cousin's harried state.

"I am fine, but Thranduil… We are leaving Lórien today."

"What? Since when?"

"Since five minutes ago."

"Why?"

"I do not know. Something happened. He wishes to leave today, this very moment."

"You can not leave without saying goodbye."

"I fear I must."

Celebrían took hold of her cousin's arm and came to a halt, the force of which spun Caladhel around to face her. "Let him go if he wishes to leave. Why should you be so inconvenienced?"

"Because I love him."

Celebrían huffed at her cousin's answer. As far as she was concerned, Thranduil could do with a bit of inconveniencing.

"Would you tell Elrond to go alone, if he asked you to return to Imladris this very day?"

Celebrían muttered something beneath her breath, but when Caladhel pressed for an answer, she sighed. "Of course not. I would go with him."

"And so I must." She hugged her cousin and kissed her cheek. "Tell the boys to be good. Kiss Arwen for me. And farewell your parents and Elrond, Amroth, and Haldir, too, of course."

"Very well, but don't expect me to be happy about it."

"Thank you," Caladhel said, before continuing on her path.

Caladhel changed out of her dress quickly and packed her travel bag. She packed Thranduil's as well. He had not been by their talan and somehow she doubted he intended to return. She gathered her weapons and hurried off to the gate.

Thranduil and Belras were already waiting. Thranduil eyed his own bag with surprise, for as Caladhel expected, he had not given his personal belongings a second's thought. He had his swords and Caladhel – that was all he needed. And, of course, a small bag of lembas Iordor insisted he take with them on the journey.

Thranduil attached the bags to Belras' saddle and they were off. It was nearly a twelve day journey at a leisurely pace to Limrond, but the trip could be hastened if need be. Thranduil informed Belras of his wish for a swift return and the hart obliged, stopping for food and water and rest only at need.

It was a quiet journey home, but Caladhel would not go so far as to call it peaceful. Their journey to Lórien was a lively one, full of jest and lighthearted conversation. On their return, they barely spoke. Thranduil's thoughts wandered with his gaze out along the river, across fields and deep into the woods beyond their path. A few times along the way he startled, shaken by something unseen. Caladhel wondered what he imagined in the mist. She did not ask him to explain their sudden flight, nor did he offer an explanation. But he held her tightly in his arms when she rode before him, and when she rode behind he threaded his fingers in hers and drew her arms firmly about him, pressing her close.

They made good time, and several days later a guard trumpeted their arrival at Limrond's gate. Beleth arrived at the bridge to greet them. She was clearly flustered, having had no time to prepare a proper welcome for the King and Queen.

"My King, my Queen, welcome home. We were not expecting your return for another few weeks."

Thranduil kissed his aunt on her cheek. "We departed early."

"I have dispatched Galion to prepare your baths."

Thranduil nodded and took to the footbridge and hurried across to avoid further questioning from his aunt. Beleth's gaze wandered to the edge of the wood, but she neither saw nor heard her nephew's company.

"Where are the others?" she asked Caladhel.

"Our company will return on schedule."

"Why did you leave early?" Beleth asked.

Caladhel's gaze shifted from her aunt's face to Limrond, where Thranduil had disappeared through the palace gates. "When I find out, I will let you know."

Caladhel hurried after her husband, leaving a bewildered Beleth behind. She reached the royal apartments a few minutes behind her mate. She found Thranduil's cloak and soiled clothes in a pile on the floor and heard a splash as he took advantage of the bath Galion prepared for him. Caladhel decided to do the same. Her curiosity had waited days. It could wait a little while longer to be sated. She retired to her own private bath, shedding her muddy clothes and lowered her travel-weary form into the tub.

There were few pleasures greater than a hot bath after a long journey and Caladhel lingered in the tub as long as the water would allow. She fled its depths only as the water began to cool. Fresh towels and a robe had already been laid out for her. She made an earnest but swift attempt to dry her hair. Once it ceased to drip, she went in search of Thranduil. She found him on the terrace, overlooking the wood. He was seated upon their favorite lounge, struggling to defeat the knots in his own hair. She came up behind him and drew the brush from his hand.

She took a lock of his hair in hand and carefully worked out the knots. She had offered to brush his hair more than once during their journey, but he refused. She guessed he regretted that choice now. It took a good while for her to free him of tangles.

When her task was done, she joined Thranduil on the chair. She began to brush her own hair, but Thranduil set his hand upon her arm.

"Allow me," he said, and took the brush from her hand.

Thranduil ran his fingers gently through the silken waves of his wife's hair. There were only a few tangles and those he worked out easily with the brush. Caladhel always loved it when he brushed her hair. It made her feel as cherished and loved as when he kissed her, more so in fact. When he was done with the task, Thranduil set the brush on the side table and Caladhel leaned back into his arms. They lay watching the sky as the sun set and the stars awoke overhead.

Caladhel gave her husband's hand a little squeeze before she broke the silence. "We are safe now. Home."

Thranduil agreed with a hum.

"Will you tell me now what cause you had to depart Lórien so urgently?"

A long silence followed her question. Caladhel's thumb stroked Thranduil's hand while she waited.

"I love you," he said at last.

It was not a proper answer, and Caladhel abandoned her husband's arms for a more upright position. She turned on the edge of the lounge to face him. "I know it. And I love you, as well. So tell me what is wrong."

Thranduil's gaze fell to his lap, to the empty hands that no longer held her. "I shall never love anyone as I love you."

"Of course not," Caladhel said.

"No. Hear me," said Thranduil, who sat straighter now. His hands reached out to clasp hers. Their eyes met, and he held them, painfully. "I shall never love anyone as I love you."

Caladhel, confused, shook her head. "What happened?"

"My worst fear came true."

"That being?"

"I hurt you."

"What are you talking about?"

"I saw him."

"Saw who?"

"Our son. I saw him in Galadriel's mirror."

At this revelation, all of Caladhel's former fear and anxiety melted away. Thranduil watched them vanish like shadows before the light of hope in her eyes.

"What did he look like?" she asked.

Thranduil closed his eyes and fixed his memory on the vision, of a child bounding through the wood, and who, in a fit of laughter, threw himself into Thranduil's arms. "He was beautiful. He had your smile."

Caladhel reached out and wiped away a rogue tear trailing down her husband's cheek. "Why should such a vision upset you?"

"You have dreamed of him for so long now."

"I have."

Thranduil opened his eyes to find Caladhel watching him, her eyes flooded with concern. How could he tell her? How could he not? "I do not wish to share your love with another," he confessed.

Caladhel clutched his hands a little tighter. "You share me now. I love many, including you. Why should one more matter so?"

"You love many, that is true, but you love me most of all. You will love a child more. He will take my place in your heart, of that, I am sure."

"Thranduil."

"I know that is how it should be, but I – I shall never love anyone as I love you."

"I cannot know of the strength of my love for our child, and nor can you."

But Thranduil did know. He had seen the strength of it in Celebrían's eyes when she gazed upon Arwen, and more when she beheld her ill-mannered sons. Thranduil had no doubt that Caladhel would love their son as Celebrían loved hers. The real question was whether Thranduil could love their child that much.

"What if I cannot love him as I should?"

"He will be ours – your flesh and mine. How could you naught but love him?"

Caladhel wrapped her arms around her husband and laid her head upon his chest. His heart was beating fast. She willed it to calm, to match the steady beating of her own. "There is so much love in you. You may not see it, but I do. You love your kin, your people, your wood… He will be all of these things to your heart – and more – our love made manifest before your eyes."

Thranduil held her close, her head tucked perfectly beneath his chin. He stroked her hair. "I said I would give you anything, all that I had, and more. I failed you."

"No. You needed time. I gave it to you."

"I am a selfish ellon."

"You can be. At times."

"I never meant to hurt you."

"I know it."

"Can you forgive me?"

"What is there to forgive?"

"I made you wait so long."

"It is true, in one light."

"And in another?"

Caladhel's left hand strayed to Thranduil's collar. Her fingers danced lightly along his neck, down his chest, parting his robe as they went. Her lips grazed the crook of his neck, pressing little kisses from shoulder to chin.

"We have amassed much practice in the art," she whispered. "I predict our son will be perfect."

Caladhel claimed his mouth then, hungrily, passionately, until Thranduil was left breathless. Her need and want replaced his lingering fears with desire. Desire for his wife, yes, but also for her happiness, and for his as well, for that part of his soul that wished to know the joy of a son's laughter.

Thranduil's hands slipped easily beneath his wife's robe, one wandering to her hip, the other trailing lightly up her back. "We might require a few tries to get him right," Thranduil suggested as he nipped at her neck.

"I think we can manage the first time," said Caladhel. "But I shall be pleased to celebrate our success as many times as you desire."

"A challenge, then," he laughed and in one smooth motion he stood, lifting her easily in his arms. "You know I never fail to meet a challenge," he said as he carried her to their bed.

"And you know how eager I am to celebrate."

Thranduil set her down on the bed, discarding his robe as she did hers. "Then I promise no further delay."

They declared no more in words that night, but much with hearts and hands and legs and souls entwining.