Lúthien bit her lips bit aggressively. Why did he unbutton his upper two buttons? She was embarrassed. Even he was not aware that his bare chest was revealed a bit.. a lot.
She sighed, and came closer and buttoned his wearer. She spoke gently, not meeting his eyes, so she did not see that he was gulping and blushed into bright red too.
"Next time, would you please wear your clothes properly?" Finally, she exhaled with relief. She raised her head and the warm passionate hazel eyes has met with starry refreshing ocean colours. He smiled and bowed his head to her.
"Thanks for saving me; my life. Thank you." There was no more darkness, nor pride and lie in his eyes. There was no lie in him. He was truthful.
Lúthien grinned: on her face, in her eyes, there was the bright genuine light. She responded at his. "Please don't. My King. It is worth to save every lives, and so was yours. It is my duty to protect and save them from the shadows of darkness." She responded to him with all heart, which was no lie within.
"Even if it's very small, and tiny thing: Lasto beth nîn: Aurë entuluva, mellon." Thranduil saw that suddenly she was whispering gently to little, weak, withered nimloth sprout, that died before it's flower blooms. She kneeled, and kissed on it's withered stem, caressing itself.
"Come back to the light." Soon the black stem gradually turns into the radiant colors of life, and the buds has bloom vigorously. The shining, and gracious white flower has bloom from the ashes of death. The sweet scents of sprout spread into their airs.
Lúthien grinned gladly, and returned to her king, who was gazing her with awe. She was truly glad that she could help her friends, who was fading under the evil of sleepless malice.
She smiled shyly, and bowed with respect for him, humbly. "I am Lúthien. For my kins, they call me as Amdirvel. Forgive for my rude attitude at first, aran nín. For I was afraid of the unexpected guests." Lúthien apologized to him. She could not look at him properly.
Thranduil moved his one step toward her, and Lúthien was surprised that she was hearing that Elvenking's gentle warm hearted chuckling sound. She felt that her chin was lifting with his two fingers on. His rough breathes had tickled her nose.
"Just Thranduil, please." He whispered to her. "My Lady, Lúthien."
Lúthien blushed her cheeks vigorously. Oh Valar. "Then I must be just Lúthien, not Lady. Thranduil." She laughed. Thranduil smiled warmly, too. But, something was not going well. She could sense that. Sometimes, the senses were better, and faster than seeing with eyes. She saw Thranduil's face turns pale, and he was sweating, and smiling weakly.
"Thranduil are you alright?" She was asking, but she already sensed that he was in pain again. It seemed that he was trying to conceal, but that does not work to her. He was very stubborn. Lúthien sighed, and spoke rapidly to him.
"From now on, as healer, I must insist that my patient will follow my instructions well, or- " She hissed with worrisome glares. Thranduil caught that, but also she was determined. Thranduil's ears has gone more reddened. Not here.
"I think the wound has opened.." He exhaled, and murmured quietly, looking the bright nimloth flower on the grounds. And, when he moved his sights onto her, the most passionate healer was grabbing his hand firmly, and leading him a way, into her nice, cozy house again. He did not want to cause the worry to her. Yet eventually, he did. He clenched his jaw very slightly, as his back sores again.
Lúthien strode a bit angrily to her house. She was annoyed. To whom? To Thranduil? Nah, she was not. She really shouldn't have leave him alone. Yes. It was her, who she was annoyed to.
She was so, easily broken hearted to every wounded spirits, but this time, it was rather more than her usual ones. Not only just sorrow, there was grieving and sore heart, and the fury and.. whatever. It was just like the sentiments that when she dreamed about him.
"Lúthien, I'm fine enough." said the someone noble, who rules the northern mirkwood.
She ignored. But, eventually she turned her face to him, and speak with worrying eyes.
"I know I am too overactive now, and overprotective at everything, but.." She soon found out the reason. Why she was so odd, especially after meeting Thranduil. Was this unnamed feeling, was 'Pity'? No, more than that. It was so overwhelming her. Very much. Lúthien could not finish her words. She was speechless. This whole situations were under of the unexplainable circumstances, and that makes her annoyed.
'Lúthien. Why are you crying? Come my dear.'
She glanced the forth, where the old, wise grey cloaked Istari was offering his arms to her, chuckling sadly. Sadly? Why? She did not know that he was gazing her like that way, until now.
She remembered that this was one of her memories.
'Elrohir, and Elladan are not crying. And,' Gandalf did always tease her like that way.
'Arwen is also in peace. I know you, Mithrandir. You always tease me with same words. But, you know it too: this is not my fault!' The young elfling whined, who was crying in the maiar's arms.
'No, it is not. My dear. Yet, there's not many elflings who sob this much, like you, in this arda. Especially, about the tales of earlier days of Great Elvenking's.' He swiped her small teardrops on her small cheeks. He grinned to her with fatherly smiles, gently. The young girl was now blushing brightly.
'I just wanted to help him. I wish I could there for him.. Still, I do not know why I care him this much.'
'Is that feelings are borne from the pity, my dear?'
'Perhaps, you could understand like that. But, no: my answer is No. I do not know why, but I only felt so cold and lonesome, and sorry and something profound sensation. That's all: but Mithrandir, my heart suffocates, and my soul aches.. it feels like, that tells me there's something I had lost before.
I am truly so painful. He lost his father, and even his wife! He finally met her, but why the evil always tears them away? And, you said that he had lose his own memories about her, and still living in a griefs, and facing all ages of darkness whole alone. How can I be so peaceful? I wish he could recover his memories. And-' Lúthien gazed her youngling days gently.
'Himself. I want he could smile. I want that the peace and happiness finally visits him. I wish he could retrieve himself.' Soon she could hear the Gandalf's warm voices.
'Have faith, child. There's much more strengths within you. Trust the hope. Lúthien Amdirvel, Strong hope. You can do that.' And, gradually, the one voice was turned into a combined two voices.
'Do not cry, Lúthien. You are strong. You already know the way. Lúthien, don't cry." Thranduil was swiping her tears, hugging her. Hug? Oh please!!
Lúthien startled, and escaped out from his arms. She could see that his eyes were hurt as she rejects.
Thranduil was going to apologize her. Why did he do that?! He sighed. In his eyes, she had looked very vulnerable, like the doe at the edges of cliff, before the orcs. But, that does not mean that he would do something to her, in harm's way. Alas! He regretted about his spontaneous behaviour. He did not mean to make any harms to her, not even in physical ways.
"I am sor-"
"Forgive me, Thranduil."
Unfortunately, she was faster.
Lúthien watched him and said, with calmed down voice. Yet, there was no offence, except the lethargy of her majority unresolved questions. Not because of him, of herself.
"I know you were trying to ease me; I know you were not trying to take me, not offending me, and so was I. I appreciate your warm heart, but I'm fine. And, I think you already know why: if there was a reason that made me cry, than it would be you. I'm fine, but you are not." Lúthien ends her words, bit mischievously. With smiling warmly hazel coloured eyes.
Thranduil relieved at the truth that she had recovered from crying in tears, in short time. Smiling in playful ways carefreely, makes herself more attractively in his eyes. He followed her grinning, unknowingly the later, that would cause the most unexpected results in his life.
ooOoo
When they got into her house, Thranduil was taken by Lúthien with her innocent smilings, to her bed. It was trap.
"Why are you staring me like that? Didn't I ask to take off your tunic please? -to heal your wound again." She was grinning wickedly, and winked to him playfully. She, this little naughty one, was definitely enjoying this.
Dear Eru, she was definitely enjoying making him feel uncomfortable. As watching that she was biting her lips, with amused eyes, probably he must be blushing. She whispered. "Don't worry, I won't bite you."
Let's see later. He frawned lightly.
He sighed, and took off his tunic, and his bare, hardened muscular chest revealed.
He saw Lúthien was petting the empty side of her, sitting on her bed. He strode, and set beside her. He smirked lightly: he heard that she was gulping hardly, and her eyes were widened.
He asked to her. "Didn't you say that you're going to heal?"
The winner of this ridiculous competition, was him.
Sindarin translations
Lasto beth nîn - Listen to me; hear my voice
Aurë entuluva(Quenya) - Day shall come again.
Mellon - friend
Amdirvel - Strong hope: Lúthien's alternative name.
Aran nín - My king
A/N: I think I have to explain about the scene of reviving that withered nimloth flower: yes, that's Lúthien's magical power as The Healer.
She has the power to heal every withered, and wounded spirits to revive, to live again from the malices of darkness. She doesn't have a power to bring back someone, or something from it's death. She could only heal everyone who hasn't faded, or passed away. To give a hope, when there's none.
And trusting the 'hope', is also her nature.
I wish that you have enjoyed this chapter ;D
Always thanks for waiting and reading with love, about Thranduil and Lúthien's tale!!