Chapter 4: Workforce

As Tauriel rightly guessed it would be, being Thranduil's personal handmaiden was the hardest thing she had ever done. The king wasn't particularly demanding of any of his servants, it wasn't that. Above the daily routine of preparing his robes, bringing in what he needed for his sustenance or anything else he wanted fetched and writing down messages he required passed on to subjects in different roles at the Halls, there really wasn't much to do. Cleaning wasn't her duty and neither was making his bed. Tauriel understood now clearly how Galion usually had plenty of time for recreational activities, but she wasn't going to pursue any of those. Even when not needed, especially since the king ignored most his usual court proceedings half the time lately and chose to withdraw into the quiet of his quarters with a few bottles, the redhead stayed close by, jumping at any chance to engage Thranduil or challenge his drinking. He paid her no heed and continued to sit around moping, and usually suffered the consequences of his ample alcohol consumption in silence if there was any. Tauriel could only guess from his frowning expression and how he held onto furniture as he went on these occasions. He retired to bed early often and left it late, though on this particular day the sun has passed the summit of the summer sky and there was still no sign from him, no call for servants, no noise.

The ex-guard was too apprehensive to leave it any longer and decided to check on him, stealing into the partially darkened room. The smell of spirits and wine was overpowering instantly, more than usual, and that worried her too. Nonetheless the situation wasn't quite as dire as she had anticipated, she did find Thranduil in bed and not as she feared, in a puddle of his own fluids, but it was immediately apparent he needed help. Tauriel took one look at his shaking form, tussled and sweaty hair and the hand that tightly held his belly, trembling fingers moving constantly in a feeble attempt to quell the incapacitating cramps she knew from Idhrenion couldn't be suppressed without the help of soothing remedies or at least symptomatic relief, the sight making her step back and shout out at the other servant to fetch the healers. Only after she made sure Galion was doing as he was asked that she glided back to Thranduil's side and grabbed a cloth to dry his sweat soaked features, trying to get his attention at the same time by tilting his head up as she worked, hoping to make eye contact.

It only came to pass for a fraction of a moment before he averted his eyes, part immersed in both physical and emotional pain, part refusing contact with the outside world, but Tauriel could've sworn on her life that she saw the sliver of embarrassment clouding his eyes before they glazed over in avoidance. It was more than his dedicated carer could take. The elleth's hand moved to his, atop his belly, not being able to reach where he was hurting, but that didn't stop her from stroking his arm affectionately and squeezing his fingers, "please, please, My Lord. Let me help you, I beg you. You can't go on like this, torturing yourself. Your son wouldn't want that, nobody would want that."

"You can't help," he established, voice breathy and weak, but unyielding and dismissive, "you can't bring Legolas home."

"He would come if he knew how unwell you were," Tauriel countered.

"If he comes out of pity, it's worthless all the same," he argued, breath hitching with the cramps that interfered with his intentions to speak.

Tauriel shook her head, despairing, "you can't be fond of hurting so."

He huffed at that, "you'll find bodily pain is quite distracting from troubles and so is mead. I don't think I would've survived my wife's death if the agony from the dragon's burns didn't distract me."

"So you don't want the healer to bring you relief?" She challenged, rather livid.

"I didn't say that," he admitted, eyes closing and responsiveness away with the pain again.

Tauriel knew better than to interpose. Stroking his arm, as close as she could get to the offending body part, the elleth persevered till he rode out the pain, teeth chattering and barely concealing a moan. "Please let me help," she started again. "Get you over this episode, then I could be here every hour to distract you myself from drinking, if you'd only let me."

"Where is the healer?" He seemed to be ignoring her, "my stomach hurts very badly."

"I know it does," she squeezed at his arm encouragingly, "that's what I'm trying to stop, for good. Don't you want that?"

"Today?" He wheezed, "today I certainly do."

Tauriel nodded, using the cloth again to swerve his attention on her at the same time as drying the already regathered sweat on his brow, "good. Just trust me alright? Hold on. Follow my lead, let me guide you, look after you. You need to follow some of my orders for that, understand? Can you do that? I promise to make everything better."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," he grumbled.

"I am certain I can keep them, as long as you do as you're told."

Thranduil had to smile at that, despite everything, "you and only you would tell your king to obey. Not even my healers or advisors dare such thing."

"Then I am the right person for the job," Tauriel reasoned.

Thranduil closed his eyes and groaned, in the throes of another cramp, "I guess right now, I don't have a choice."

Tbc