Chapter 10

November 17, T.A 2940

Forenoon

Anariel stood in her chambers staring out the window as she thought of everything that had happened, everything that she had said. As she mulled it all over she unconsciously focused on the throbbing in her cheek, the stinging and tightness of her lip from the stitches. While Anariel thought she remembered the way he looked afterwards, the utter horror, shock, and regret. It didn't sit right in the pit of her stomach, it was like he couldn't remember so soon after.

Anariel dropped her head against the window, a small nagging part of her wondered what everyone said about her, but then again she would probably regret that too.

"Here, a cold cloth it will ease the pain some and help bring down the swelling," Feren spoke as he walked towards her. Placing the cloth upon her cheek he held it in place, he tried to hold in a sigh as he took in her lip now stitched. He had escorted the princess back to her chambers and insisted she listen to the healer's words and let him help her, she needed to keep something cold on her cheek for a while longer.

"Thank you," she breathed grimacing in pain as the roughness of the cloth came in contact with her skin. "I've been such a fool. I should never have said those things." Anariel admitted.

"Do not speak as if your words would have mattered, he never should have done this no matter what," Feren growled his voice held a venomous edge, never in all his years had he ever felt such hate towards his king.

Anariel sighed, pulling away from him she went to sit on the edge of her bed dropping her head in her hands, she wanted to agree to his words but she knew too that she was wrong to say such mean and hurtful things in anger. "You don't get it! The things I said to him. The look on his face after, the horror and disbelief at his own actions."

"Maybe that is so, but..." Feren came to sit beside her lifting her chin gently as he returned the cloth to her swollen cheek.

"But what? Words can be no less painful than a physical wound. I regret what I said, for I fear my own words caused him as much pain to his heart as his hand did to me."

"Anariel," Feren tried again trying to make her hear reason.

"I told him, questioned the fact that mother was ever kidnapped, said that she left him. That he forced her to leave by his own means and blind cruelty. True he has been harsh and strict, still, he did not deserve such words. At the end of the day, I have been just as cruel and unkind to him." Anariel bit out dropping her head slightly as the realization and truth of her words hit.

She had been just as cruel to him, lost her temper as much if not more than he has.

"Anariel... while I still do not believe that gave him the reason," Feren breathed shocked suddenly as she spoke the truth of her words. "Why would you? I told you what happened, the effect it had on him, I would not lie to you."

"I know, and I do not believe that you would...I just...I tried! Okay, all fucking evening I tried for him and sure I slipped up and snapped at that elf, true. But to have stood there and get mad and begin to lecture me for the evening's events..."

"Wait a moment, mad? Lecture? Did I miss something somewhere, he was never mad at you at all during the entire evening?" Feren spoke shaking his head, trying to understand.

"Of course he was," Anariel snapped out, "Nothing is ever good enough for him. He started on how I spoke out to her all sharp-tongued and he had all these other elves come to him speak with him who had overheard."

"Yes, of course, they did. I was speaking with the king when a couple other's came to talk to him, as I myself came and talked to him about it as well."

"You!?" Anariel shoved his hand away, standing from her bed the quick and sudden yelling hurt her lip she did it anyway. "Great, and here I thought I might actually have someone who wasn't so prone to pointing out my flaws."

"What are you talking about? Why are you mad at me for speaking with him?" Feren paused suddenly, "Did he tell you what anyone said?"

Anariel went to speak but stopped herself, perhaps he was going to but she never gave him the chance. "No, and whether he was going to or not doesn't matter. I don't want to know what you and those other horrid elves had to say, and you can leave now."

Feren sighed, "Anariel, none of it was-"

"Just leave! I let myself begin to trust you, I let my guard down around you and this is what I get for it, leave!" Anariel yelled out tears racing down her cheeks once more.

"Just hear me out," Feren cried out his own voice rising slightly.

"Seeing as the last time someone, the king, heard you out and it landed us here, I think I shall forgo it this time."

"I never-"

"Just go!"

Feren huffed annoyed at the princess and her temper, placing the cloth back in the basin of cold water he slipped out of the door leaving the princess to her own.

He stalked down the halls to his chambers to change into his armor before heading to the training grounds for a time. Feren adored her that he could easily admit to himself, could admit he loved the way she made his heart flutter, and the sound of her laughter they way she could be so carefree but by the gods did he hate her temper, hated the way she could be so calm and almost serene but if even for a second she didn't like where something was going she just stopped listening and would meet you with anger. He hated her blunt, confronting way of speaking at times. Feren shook his head dispelling every thought of Anariel, instead, he focuses on nothing but his own training until he needed to train her.

Anariel let herself go crashing to the floor sobbing hysterically, her breathing coming out in short gasps as she reached around trying desperately to untie the dress she was still in.

This whole time she wanted nothing more than to be left alone and now that she had screamed and cursed everyone away from her she was suddenly regretting that decision, standing back up she walked to the basin of water looking up at herself in the mirror, the sight of her own face made her angry. Screaming at everything, every action that had happened, at every feeling she felt, the way she pushed everyone away yet wanted them close, for it all, she screamed shoving the basin of water in anger.

Guards came bursting in at the sounds, finding the basin smashed upon the floor, water everywhere. Watching their princess bent over the table sobbing in her near hyperventilating state.

"My lady, is everything alright?"

"I...I can't..." Anariel gasped trying to control her breathing a feeling of light-headedness and nausea taking over her.

"My lady..."

Anariel spun on her heel to face them as her vision blurred she collapsed, fainting. Meludir and Orelion caught their princess effortlessly.

They looked at each other with worry as they helped her onto the bed, "We must call the healers and her handmaiden's. And send word to the king."

"She told them to leave, and not return until the morning." Orelion argued, "We can't disobey her wishes."

"Well, we can't leave her here unconscious either. Unless you plan to be the one to take her out of that dress to remove said corset that constricts her breathing than by all means. But you, Mellon nin, are on your own." Meludir breezed out, wanting to avoid an angry king.

"We'll call them." Orelion agreed, seeing where he was going with it.

Thranduil looked down at the message from the healing ward, a report on his daughter, a report in striking black ink to remind him of what he's done. A vividly detailed report on the pain he caused her. Looking down at the paper, there it was, she needed stitches in her lip and a bruised cheekbone. There just beneath was the healer's apology, 'we are sorry my lord, for we do not know who has attacked the princess, nor will she say.'

Thranduil shook his head, after everything she had not outed him to his people. If she had, he could not have blamed her. He would be deserving of whatever she would say but still the thought scared him, made him fear to lose his temper and to black out once more. If he did would she pay for it again?

Thranduil moved through his personal chambers when a knock came to the door.

"Tolo vi," Thranduil called in answer to the newcomer.

"Hir nin," Orelion spoke as he entered his king's chambers.

"Should you not be protecting the princess?" Thranduil growled out as he noticed who had come.

"Of course, my lord and I do not mean to anger you it is only that, well she's fainted."

"Fainted?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Thank you, Orelion, I will be there shortly. You are dismissed."

Thranduil ran a hand over his face, in his heart, he wanted to go and see her he ached to be near his daughter yet he to knew that she probably wanted nothing to do with him. Thranduil decided he would go visit her if only to apologize he nodded it was the best place to start, the only place to start. Thranduil spun on the spot about to head out of his chambers as a gust of wind blew through his chambers through the carved windows for the briefest second he took peace in the feeling of the wind, the sound of the leaves rustling in the distance when a loud thud reached his ears, he paused at the sound furrowing his brows searching for the intruding sound.

There on the ground was a small carved wooden box, pieces of the design were so delicately done near perfection and most were lopsided and rough but perfect in their own way. Thranduil chuckled almost unwillingly to himself, he'd almost forgotten. Legolas and himself had spent the night carving the box together as they sat beneath the stars under a full moon, they did it for her, his beloved wife, mother of his children. Thranduil would never forget Legolas was so determined to copy his own design he sat in the grass working so hard. Beamed with such pride when he gave it to his Nana, telling her how Ada had only helped a little bit. A tear leaked down his cheek, he could still see her face they way it light up and she praised and cherished it.

With careful and precise steps Thranduil moved to stand over the box, looking down cautiously at it. For hundreds of years, that box sat there untouched by anyone even himself. A part of him considered leaving it there feeling almost fearful of touching it, he's never moved it, not an inch, has never touched it, not even a graze not since she... Thranduil shook his head dispelling the thoughts, trying to shake away those horrid images that flashed in his mind. The memories of his wife bloodied and cold upon the forest floor.

"My lady, you must hurry we cannot spare a second!" Feren cried out to his Queen as he led her through the halls, the sword is drawn and at the ready.

Feren guided her in the direction of her chambers, an entire troop of guards followed them when she made an unexpected turn.

"My lady, please!" Feren's words were rushed as he stayed with his queen to protect her.

"I can't leave, my little greenleaf, I must go to him."

"My Lady, Prince Legolas will be safe, now we must get you to your chambers it is safer there."

"No!"

He tried everything, tried desperately to get her to follow to no avail. Before they could even reach the prince's chamber's they had run into trouble, ambushed by dozens. Feren and the other guards were surrounded they fought for their queen but their efforts were failing and Feren quickly found himself in an onslaught when he heard the queen cry out. As his sword sliced down another he chanced a glance, he saw her being dragged away in his moment of distraction an enemy's sword came down catching him on the side and just like that she was gone. Feren slumped against the wall as the last in front of him were dead, wrapping his arm around his side it soaked through with blood.

Unsure of time Feren began to feel weak, his vision blurring, the pain in his side ceased as he fainted from blood loss slumping to the ground surrounded by the lifeless bodies of his friends and enemies.

The pregnant queen was drug through the dirt and mud she was nothing to the men who carried her. They dragged her uncaring till they came to a small camp tying her hands behind her back leaving her until the king was ready.

"You have done well, you have earned your reward." The booming voice of a dwarf cried out looking down at the Great Elven King's wife, she would pay if the king would not pay homage to his people than he will force it from him. The dwarven king was mad, twisted and lost to power and greed.

Thranduil hurried through his halls, cursing everything in sight. His Marchwarden was in the healing ward, nearly three dozen of his guards slaughtered in his own halls and that horribly cursed thing kidnapped his wife. Thranduil's breathing grew deeper what was he suppose to do, he already had every guard he could spare searching for her but those numbers were not what he wanted them to be after so many had just been killed.

Feren was up and joining the search for the Queen as soon as he was fully stitched and bandaged, shaking away the healers that told him to stay put, that he was still too weak but Feren did not care he had his queen to find and of fate should be so unkind perhaps their princess.

The queen screamed and struggled in pain as she felt the dagger pierce her body. She stayed faithful and loyal to her last breath to her beloved husband and in turn her children.

Thranduil was horror struck, as he continued to hurry through the halls to find Legolas uncaring of how the elves looked at him with curious eyes. Sighing, relieved when Legolas lay relaxed and happy resting.

Yet, still the king could feel the change in the air something had happened and he could feel it in his very fae, deep down he knew, could hear the softest whispers of his wife's voice but he could not bear to admit it to himself.

Thranduil sighed as he looked to Legolas he was still so young, too young to have to know life without his nana.

A young woman had seen the way the Elven Queen struggled to stay silent through the night as she bared her labor, tied and lying in the dirt.

She had posed as a man to serve this dwarven king, he promised her people much if they provided him help, she wanted to fight, prove herself in battle but not like this. Nobody cared for her here, so surely none would miss her. Pulling herself free of her cloak she approached the queen.

"I am here to help, my lady. Forgive me, for I did not know-"

"Shh...I fear this may be..." the queen stopped as another wave of pain coursed through her body, it was only then that the young woman noticed the blood. They had attacked her already, tortured her,she was dying, the young woman marveled at the strength of the elven female before her.

With hushed cries of pain the queen pushed her child free of her body, immediately she wrapped the elfling in her cloak.

"I have relatives in Bree, I will take her there. There she will be safe away from these people."

The queen nodded knowing that she could not return to their own homeland, the anger in the kingdoms would only grow cause war perhaps, no she was safer far away from it all. She tugged a small picture from the inside of her cloak, one she had been meaning to bring to Legolas, he had seen the identical one Thranduil kept on his desk and wanted his own, now instead it would be the one thing she could give to her daughter. "Anariel, her name will be Anariel."

With that the lone woman rode hard and fast from the camp, saving the life of the Woodland princess.

The queen lay gasping for her last breath, looking out she thought she could see him but she knew to only be within her mind, her eyes closed to the world around her, 'Take care of Legolas and Anariel.' She whispered into the wind.

Thranduil rode with his people Feren and Meludir rode just behind him, they all slid from their horses as they too came to a halt. Thranduil dropped to knees, his heart stopping in his chest, tears began to fall as he shook his head picking her up ever so gently Thranduil laid her head upon his lap holding her close as he felt her cold skin beneath his fingers. His body shook in anger, fear, and grief. Her lifeless bloodied body, her stomach no longer swelling with the life of their child yet no form of a child lay near. Was their daughter killed too, or was she spared the cruelty? Did she find help before her time ran out? No, Thranduil thought as the tears poured uncaring that Feren and Meludir were behind him, he held little to no hope for his daughter to be alive, still, he would not give up on her not now. The words of his wife still clear in his mind, words she'd whispered in the wind. 'Take care of Legolas and Anariel.' Anariel. He looked up, out there someone perhaps, alive, was his daughter.

"Adar!"

The sound ripped through the thick air surrounding the king.

"Adar!"

Thranduil looked up into the eyes of his son, but still, he could see the image of his wife.

"Adar?" Legolas paused as he came to stand behind him, looking down in his hand was the small box they'd crafted together. "You kept it?" Legolas breathed in utter shock reaching down, "May I?"

Thranduil nodded, not fully realizing that he even picked it up.

Legolas smiled as he ran his fingers over his handy work as an elfling, tilting the lid up Legolas dropped it just as quickly. "Have you...have you ever opened this?"

Thranduil shook his head to his son, as he saw him sit beside him. "To do so, always meant admitting to myself that she was gone, I never could. I fear I still can't." Thranduil admitted out loud for the first time, tears upon his cheeks.

"I think it's time." Legolas pushed the box back to him."She's gone, has been gone for a long time, but now Anariel is finally home and she is paying for it. I can't just stand by and let you hurt her, I will help her leave if she chose to do so." Legolas looked hard into his father's eye.

The king looked up to his son stunned, but not with anger.

"Ada, please." Legolas nodded to him encouragingly, hopefulness that finally his father would come back to him.

Thranduil lets a tear slip picking the box up with near shaking fingers he lifted the lid. There laying inside was nothing more than a small piece of parchment covering an envelope, his fingers trailed over the writing, her writing.

'Tov-han, melamin. Tov-han, tog han bâr. Hene thel thang nost.' (Find her, my love. Find her, bring her home. She will need family.)'

Thranduil rubbed a hand over his lips, shaking his head heartbroken and a slight anger resided, she knew, sensed danger.

"She sensed the danger, long before it happened." Legolas breathed out a few tears in his own eyes, understanding the reality behind his mother's words.

"Your mother was ever wise a truly gifted elleth but even then she could be foolish, no matter what she would never have said a thing, never wanting to worry another," Thranduil told his son, putting the envelope back in the box before closing the lid. "We should go to her."

Legolas nodded standing from the floor.

Together father and son headed down the halls, a subtle change in their relationship. Legolas looked to his father as they walked noticing a glimmer in his eyes of the elf he had once been, the ellon that was in the beginning of coming through.

Thranduil glided effortlessly into his daughter's chambers, immediately dismissing the healers.

"My lord, not that I wish to oppose your order it's only that she still needs to have her wound cleaned again and she will be weak when she awakes and..."

"I believe I am aware of my daughter's needs, I thank you for your concern but I will see to them myself." The king informed, waving his hand once more for the healer to take her leave.

She bowed as she left the room.

Legolas and the king looked down to Anariel, laying in her bed.

"Break that herb up and place them in the water," Thranduil asked of his son, "The smell will help rouse her, and they will help ease the pain."

Legolas did as he was asked before soaking the cloth and wringing it out, bringing the herb-laced water to her wounded lip Thranduil reached out taking it from him.

Legolas offered him a kind smile, one that was returned.

Anariel groaned out coming around slowly, her eyes fluttered opened landing on Thranduil first her eyes flew open in a flash as she tugged away from him a fearfulness flashing through her.

"Shh, no harm will come to you," Thranduil soothed her uneasiness.

"What... what are you doing here?" Anariel asked in a barely audible whisper.

Thranduil felt his heart pang in his chest at her words and the tone in which she said them.

"Helping you," Thranduil sighed as he continued to clean her lip.

He wasn't good at expressing himself personally all the time, it felt awkward and made him uncomfortable it meant letting down his walls, even for his children that would never be an easy thing to do. Passing the cloth to Legolas he stood pacing at the end of her bed. "You wanted to talk to me before, what of?" Thranduil asked changing the subject, taking on his kingly stature once a well-rehearsed wall that brought him comfort.

"Oh," she breathed, moving into a sitting position with little help from her brother. "Uh, can I just say something first?"

Legolas stopped wiping down her lip as she began to speak, cleaning the cloth out he placing it on her cheek Anariel replaced his hand thanking him.

Thranduil turned to eye his daughter, "What is it?"

Anariel sighed, glancing around the room unsure of how to begin before breathing out a simple. "I'm sorry."

Thranduil stopped his pacing looking to her with wide eyes surprised by her words.

"I...should not have said what I did to you, whether angry or not it was wrong of me. Such words will never be spoken again, I promise."

"I thank you for that. My own reaction to your words is far beyond such a simple apology but still I am sorry, muinlell. I wish I could make such a promise to you that it would never happen again...but." Thranduil trailed off unsure of what he was supposed to say, how to word it in a way that she would understand if she even would.

"How can you say that it should never have happened once and you will not promise to her that it won't happen again. It's not good enough." Legolas demanded on his sister's behalf.

"It is, though," Anariel spoke up, both ellyn turned to look at her in shock. "He doesn't remember it, I think... do you?"

"No, I do not," Thranduil confirmed sadly.

"Am I missing something?" Legolas demanded.

"No, not really. He never meant to cause such harm to me, no more than I meant to cause him." Anariel explained though she never looked away from her father.

"What harm did you cause him?"

Anariel sent her brother a small smile, "Words can hurt just as much, sometimes more than a physical wound. It will heal and I will forget the sense of pain that came with it, but words stick with you more than anything, always there in the back of your mind ready to spring forward when you least expect it."

Legolas offered her a smile and nodded in understanding, she was young for an elf but she was wise when calm and acting rationally.

"What is it you expect of me?" Anariel asked bluntly.

"Pardon?" The king wondered.

"All the lessons and everything, it is fine but what after it? What do you expect me to do? I've always had some sort of a purpose something I worked towards focused on that made my work worth while now I'm just wandering aimlessly. I need something more, I just... does that make any sense?"

Thranduil smiled down at his daughter, "It does. Legolas works patrolling the borders and some other tasks around the halls. Did something strike you, that you would like to do?"

Anariel scrunched her face up in thought. "I... I don't know."

"Feren was quite impressed with your swordplay perhaps you would care to make such your focus, to be in the fields as Legolas is." Thranduil offered up the suggestion.

Anariel thought about it for a time, "It'd be quite the change, but I suppose it would be something to work towards which would help my own focus in training."

"Very well. Listen, I should tell you so you do not get the wrong idea of some many elves last night, those who spoke to me said only kind and gracious things on your behalf." The king informed with kindness, he continued what he had been trying to say in the first place.

"Excuse me?" Anariel demanded, "But, no... you were going to lecture me last night... I thought..."

"I was going to do no such thing, I was merely pointing out that despite your sharp-tongued words, that were overheard by many of our guests they felt they should speak to me on your behalf saying, how well they thought you handled yourself, that Lady Valerian was speaking out of turn which I agree upon greatly. While your words were sharp you spoke with integrity and by departing you left with a note of respect for yourselves and the guest around you." Thranduil elaborated, his voice pleased and prideful of his daughter.

"I never meant any of that, I just... so wait no one said anything bad?"

"No."

Anariel groaned deeply, "I think if I need lessons in anything it's how to listen better and not make so many assumptions."

"Well, I'm certainly not going to disagree, for your temper most certainly does not become you."

"Indeed, had I just listened to you, let you finish instead of assuming and losing my temper at you this all could have been avoided. And now I believe I to owe Feren an apology."

"Why is that?" Legolas asked, quirking an eyebrow curiously.

"He made mention that he was one of the many elves to speak with you, I may have got angry with him saying how I actually began to trust him, screamed at him to leave even though he tried to explain...but..."

"Let me see, you lost your temper and would not hear what he had to say." Thranduil wondered.

Anariel nodded. "Little moment of self-reflection here, I'm going to work on that."

Legolas and the king nodded in agreement.

"Now," Thranduil began after a moment, remembering the box with the letter from his late wife. "It is the time I mention I found this, this morning." Thranduil pulled out the small box placing it the bed before taking a seat himself on the edge beside his daughter, Legolas joined them sitting on the opposite side of the bed leaving Anariel curled up in the middle. Anariel pulled her knees up resting her chin there, giving her father and brother more room.

"Beautifully done," Anariel smiled though both Legolas and Thranduil noted her light sarcasm.

"I'll have you know, I carved that when I was elfling." Legolas spoke with a mock hurt.

Anariel laughed at this, "Couldn't have helped him?" She teased her brother, shooting the question to her father.

"I did," he snapped indignantly, though a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Well then, perhaps it is a good thing you are king, for poor Craftsmen you two would make."

Legolas and Thranduil shook their heads a light stifled chuckle sounding from the pair of them , reaching for the box Thranduil pulled the letter out. "It was written by your mother before she passed, it has not been opened until now."

"Truly," Anariel breathed out surprised.

"Gaer ú, i anor ui sila tri na i thed, na taug nest ad. Nom lu thel aphada, buia bellas, sidh, mel, ar dartha thand na nost. Gi melin. " Thranduil read his wife's words repeating them once more in Westron for his daughter, "Fear not, the sun always shines through to be the way, to be warm hearted again. Hard times will follow, hold strength, peace, love, and stay true to family. I love you."

The three sat together saying nothing, tears in their eyes as they sat together in a peaceful silence. Thranduil stole a glance at his children a smile tugging at his lips.