Much silliness this time. I hope you enjoy it.
Sky shook Thranduil awake long before dawn on the morning after their return home. "I'm thinking we should talk to Felrion first," she told him as soon as his eyes focused on her.
"Hmm?" Thranduil's mind was still halfway in the realm of dreams, where he was trying to explain to his father why every other civilization in the world had declared war on Greenwood. He wondered blearily if the healer knew what he had done to offend the halflings.
"Kilvara and Felrion, remember?" Sky reminded him, eyes glinting with excitement.
Thranduil groaned, remembering now. "Never a moment's rest with you, is there?"
Sky shrugged. "You married me."
"A moment of insanity," the prince grumbled.
The Silvan elf smirked at that. "You know you need me."
Thranduil smiled despite himself. "Truly, I do." He tried to kiss her, but she pulled away.
"Friends first, kissing later," she told him with mock sternness.
"No need to be so cruel."
"I have to motivate you somehow," she returned.
The prince sighed and rolled out of bed, pushing his wife in the direction of the kitchen. "Go make breakfast, if you are so impatient."
She laughed and went off to do just that.
. . . . . .
Felrion was wide awake and opening the door moments after the knock came; after all, healers tended to get a lot of emergency visits. Besides, it was too early for anyone to be coming just to talk to him.
Except for Sky, of course. She'd never been one to respect schedules; Felrion knew that as well as anyone.
Many elves would have been annoyed at being woken up before the sun rose—Thranduil certainly didn't look too happy about being dragged here, Felrion observed with amusement—but the healer was often called upon at odd times, and anyway, he had missed his friends. "Come in."
. . . . . .
A few minutes later, Felrion was chewing a piece of toast while Sky told him about their trip. "It's really quite a pretty place," she admitted. "Golden during the day and silver at night. Granted, it needs a bit more green, but still."
"And Am—King Amdir?" The healer quickly corrected himself when Thranduil cleared his throat; the prince couldn't let his wife's bad habits spread, after all.
"The poor elf is bored to death," the she-elf sighed.
"A monarch's job is not always an exciting one, despite what most elves believe," Thranduil agreed. "And poor Amdir does not have my dear wife to stir things up."
"Oh, Felrion, that reminds me—you'll never guess what happened!" Sky was only half acting; she was—as Thranduil would see it, at least—a little too eager to mess with her friend. "There was this elf named Haldir—he's Silvan, and pretty charming, really. Anyway, he and Kilvara got along well. Really well." She paused to see how the healer took that.
He might have frowned just the slightest bit. "Good for her, I suppose."
Sky gave being subtle another try. "And he's quite sure of himself, too, so I'll bet he'll try to convince her to stay for a while."
That comment had more of an effect. "You don't think she'll move there permanently, do you?" As he finished, Felrion bit his lip and looked down as if he'd said more than he'd meant to.
"I don't know—Haldir seemed rather patriotic, but they're both captains, and important ones, too. I'm not sure which king would be more willing to let them go. Honestly, as much trouble as I've gotten Kilvara into, Oropher might not be too sad to see her gone." That was stretching the truth—while Oropher had been frustrated by Kilvara's cooperation with Sky at times, Sky knew from Thranduil that the king was almost fond of her friend. After all, Kilvara was both unendingly loyal and quite skilled.
Felrion visibly slumped. "Oh."
Sky sighed. "Yeah. Of course, they might always decide they don't like each other after all, but they talked for a long time." Even after Thranduil got himself arrested, in fact. "Anyway, we'll see you later. Oh, and if you see Storm, tell him, all right? Kilvara needs some teasing."
Felrion nodded, though he didn't look too excited at the idea.
"I am amazed he did not see that he was being manipulated," Thranduil observed a few minutes later as they wandered through the trees.
"We tell each other that sort of thing all the time," Sky pointed out. "It's called friendship. You should try it sometime."
"I have friends!"
Sky snorted. "Mine?"
Thranduil was quiet for a long time, and then he said, "I had close friends once. They are dead now."
Sky winced. He'd never told her about them. "I'm sorry."
He took her hand and squeezed it hard.
They walked for a while, and then Sky sighed. "You're afraid to get close to anyone else, aren't you?"
He didn't answer.
"You never really bonded with anyone here, besides me, and the only other elf you really love is your father. I always hoped that was just how you were."
She was always so much more perceptive than he gave her credit for.
"I can understand why," she added, looking up at him. "It just seems like a really sad way to live."
It was, Thranduil thought. "At least I have you now."
He expected her to smile, but instead she stopped and leaned into him. "And what if something happens to me?"
Thranduil felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "Nothing will ever happen to you."
She just stared at him sadly. "But what if it does?"
Thranduil pulled her close so she wouldn't see the tears in his eyes. "It will not."
"But—"
"No."
Eithryn sighed softly. "I don't think you get to decide that."
He closed his eyes for a moment and then let go of her. "So what are we doing now?"
"Thranduil!"
He didn't blink, and Sky understood that the conversation was over for now. "We're going to talk to Kilvara. Or rather," she said, managing a smile, "you are."
. . . . . .
Kilvara drew her bow, aimed, and fired, then lowered the weapon to watch as the arrow plunged into the target five inches from the center.
Five inches!
"Distracted?" asked an amused voice behind her.
Poor Kilvara's heart skipped a beat as she froze in shock. "My lord!" she managed to gasp when she could breathe again.
"Indeed." Thranduil came around in front of her, hands clasped behind his back. "You are currently quite unfit for battle, I see."
She smiled sheepishly. "Luckily, you are not an orc."
He smirked. "Quite so." He studied her, and Kilvara shifted awkwardly; he might have been her best friend's husband, but she didn't think she would ever be quite comfortable around the prince when Sky wasn't there. "You are not the only one so distracted," Thranduil continued.
"I do not know what you mean."
Her use of more formal speech when she spoke directly to him had never bothered Thranduil before. "It would seem your interest in Captain Haldir does not sit well with our healer friend."
Kilvara blushed. "Felrion? You've—I fear you have been listening to Storm too much, Prince."
"Perhaps," Thranduil conceded in a tone that suggested he did not think that was much of a possibility at all. "I only hope a broken heart will not affect the quality of his work." With that, he turned and melted back into the forest, leaving the stunned Silvan elf behind him.
. . . . . .
Kilvara poked her head into the King's office that night and waited until he waved her in. "You are early," Oropher remarked as he signed a paper.
"I had nothing else to do tonight, my lord," she explained. In fact, the report she was due to give the king would be a welcome excuse from the confused flurry of thoughts Thranduil had set off in her mind.
"Your green-eyed friend is not planning any illegal escapades?"
Kilvara risked half a smile. "I have not heard from her at all today."
"That is worrying," Oropher said absently. "I may have to send someone out to find her. Kilvara, I am afraid I have one more thing to do before we speak. If you will be kind enough to wait, I will be back in a few minutes."
Kilvara nodded and sat down in the chair on her side of the desk to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Oropher's business must have been taking longer than expected. A king's work probably did that often, she supposed.
Finally she saw the flash of blond hair outside the door, but it was only Taensirion. "Good evening, Kilvara. Are you waiting for Oropher?"
"Good evening, Taensirion, and yes, I think his work's taking longer than he expected." She'd always found it easy to talk to the King's favorite advisor, even before the time they'd both been enlisted to help Sky and Thranduil get some time together despite Oropher's best efforts.
"I imagine he is trying to convince some uncooperative elf to sign some document or another," Taensirion joked, "or perhaps trying to resolve the chaos created by a certain she-elf." He winked, then glanced down the hall. "Ah, hello, Felrion. Are you meeting with Oropher tonight, too?"
Felrion? What was she going to say to him? Kilvara gulped.
"I fear the King is running rather late," Taensirion was saying. "At least you will have someone to talk to while you wait." If either of the Silvan elves had looked really closely, they might have seen the corner of the Sindar's lip twitch upward just the slightest bit.
Felrion moved into the doorway to see who Taensirion might be referring to. Oh, no, not Kilvara! He couldn't face her right now! He turned to ask Taensirion if he should come back later, but the blond elf was gone.
Kilvara was staring at the healer in panic. Was he really as upset as Thranduil thought? What if he was angry with her? Should she avoid talking about Haldir, or would that just make things worse?
Felrion couldn't meet her eyes. He knew he only had himself to blame for this; if he'd confessed his recently surfaced feelings to her, maybe she wouldn't be interested in this stranger from Lórien. But they'd always just been friends, and he'd been afraid it would only mess things up...
Felrion finally made himself look at her, but Kilvara averted her gaze to the wall. The healer quickly looked away again.
Kilvara continued to stare at the blank wall for a few moments before going to look out the window, desperately hoping to see Oropher, but he was not there.
Why did he have to be delayed today, of all days? The one day when Felrion was scheduled to meet with the king right after her, and the first time in her whole life when she didn't want to see him?
Felrion was thinking along the same lines, and he could come up with only one answer.
Sky.
Kilvara watched very determinedly out the window as if that would make the king appear, while Felrion chose to look through the wine bottles on Oropher's shelf—all of them were of the kinds that brought elves to the healer in search of cures for hangovers. The brown-haired elf did work up the courage to try to make eye contact once or twice, but Kilvara was apparently not interested in conversation. The healer sighed, wondering if there had ever been any hope, anyway.
Kilvara didn't understand why Felrion hadn't ever said anything; she'd given up hope years ago. He should have told her!
She had to have noticed that he was paying too much attention to her, Felrion was sure. That would explain why she wouldn't look at him; she felt bad. He wished she wouldn't, since she had every right to choose whom to marry.
Curse Storm for putting the idea in his head.
Poor Felrion, Kilvara thought. It must have been hard for him to hear that she'd struck up a relationship, however small, with a handsome young elf who lived so far away. She should have been the one to tell him.
Felrion hoped Kilvara wouldn't leave to be with that Lórien elf. At least they could still be friends if she stayed... he'd get used to watching them together eventually.
But wait, hadn't she only just met this other elf? What if...
Kilvara's fingers drummed on the windowsill. Was Haldir even worth all this? She barely knew him, and here she was about to let him get between her and one of her dearest friends.
Or was "friend" even the right word anymore?
Felrion suddenly couldn't breathe. Was it possible that there was still a chance?
Kilvara caught herself wondering how Storm could be right every time.
Now, Felrion thought. He had to ask now. "Kilvara, do y-y-you..." What was he doing? She was going to say no! For the first time in his life, the always-calm healer totally panicked.
Kilvara blurted out her answer before she fully comprehended what he was asking (and before Felrion had time to run). "Yes!"
Felrion almost fell over. "What?"
Kilvara had equally surprised herself. "What?"
. . . . . .
The group of elves standing just to the side of the window worked hard to muffle their laughter.
"You owe me, Silvan," Oropher mouthed.
"You know you enjoyed that," Sky whispered back.
Oropher couldn't disagree, and Thranduil, standing between them, had a fleeting hope that the two had found something in common.
Fleeting, because five seconds later Eithryn said she should have had Oropher help mix up the trade records earlier. It took Thranduil, Coryn, and Taensirion to keep the king quiet; reorganizing those records would take days, after all.
Ah, finally. I've been planning this for so long...