Chapter 10: Span

Thranduil stretched the council meeting, carefully deliberating and discussing every prospective move concerning agriculture, trade, foreign relations and most importantly, defence. Leaving his people to get on with it without him seemed like a selfish decision, but Tauriel was right, it was now or never, so he wanted to make sure everything was extra safe and covered to an extent he could now sense some irritation and fatigue seeping through the composed façade of his advisors and officials as well, some older than his own father would've been if he was still alive. "What crops will we have to plant next spring, Suiadan?" Thranduil turned his question to his chief agrarian.

"Hard to say, My Lord," the addressed hesitated bewildered. Did the king really intend to stay that long away or was he just covering all bases? "Under current circumstances, I would expect a good harvest of all we've planted or overseen, grains, fruit, mushrooms, but we won't know for sure till later in the year," he tried to remind his ruler that the question was rather illogical, without sounding insolent.

"I want to extend the vineyard on the western side of the outer halls," Thranduil established.

"I will have the area combed," Feren offered, making for the first step of planting anything outside the heavily guarded perimeter of the fortress.

"Important correspondence will be brought to me by you personally," the king stopped his pacing in front of his lieutenant. "I trust you will find me," he didn't question the brown haired elf's tracking abilities.

Feren nodded, perplexed. He had been told this numerous times already, along with most of the other things discussed at the meeting. If the king was going on like this, it would be his sanity that would be privately questioned by everyone. "Permission to take two guards and Idhrenion with me for such a venture," he angled for something useful, given how concerned the court had been for their monarch's health.

Thranduil rounded on him, nostrils flaring, eyes opening wider and regarded his officer cagily. The comment was an overt disparagement with his decisions and it could have well been a sign of his recently weak rule that it was voiced in this manner. "No. Tauriel is sufficient for my needs," he established, maintaining composure, though his insides tightened and his spirit called out for a drink as conflict would do that to him.

"I thank you for your confidence," Tauriel chose this moment to step forward from the shadow of a pillar, although she not ranked high enough since her removal from the guard to even be present at the meeting. However she did not miss the repeated glances the king stole at the decanter on the table during the lengthy hours spent there and this last look of his lingered longer. Everybody had been taking refreshments bar Thranduil, not to mention his delicate stomach needed proper sustenance if he was to keep to his current semi-healthy condition. Tauriel stepped closer and bowed her head to the gathering. "I will not disappoint," she guaranteed the other elves that looked considerably more dubious than their ruler. "Which is why I would need your assistance, My Lord," she bowed lower before him, "I've been given some new herbs to assess their efficacy and because the effect could be different with every individual, I would like to make sure we're taking the right remedies for you, but for that, you would have to tell me yourself if they work, Your Majesty. I apologise My King, there's no other way and time's short if we're to leave in the morning."

"You left your obligations rather late don't you think?" Thranduil groused.

"It is true, I am sorry," the redhead had the good sense to look remorseful, "if all is dealt with here, please let me escort you to your chambers so I can make up for my mistake," she suggested innocently.

The king looked round his assembly thoughtfully. "I will send a sentry ahead tonight to make the first leg of your journey safe and swift," Feren proposed, hoping to bring the tiresome marathon discourse to an end himself, like the rest of the participants.

"No escorts outside the borders of Mirkwood," Thranduil accepted the proposal with a condition, "you need all forces for defence."

"Understood, Your Highness," the lieutenant obeyed, "I wish you a pleasant and successful journey." The good wishes were followed and echoed by similar reverberates from all in the room. Thranduil nodded, turning slowly, not entirely convinced everything would be well taken care of in his absence, but truly, there wasn't much else he could do. "Le hannon, navaer," he decided on setting off to follow Tauriel with a bounce on his heels. Relieved sighs were only emitted by the gathered servants and high ranking officers after the last of his trailing robes disappeared behind a pillar.

"Are you alright?" Tauriel worried for his wellbeing. He couldn't have chosen a worst time to stand all day from daybreak to way into the night, longest he had been active since coming back from Dale the year before.

Thranduil reached for her arm as a response, the gesture giving away an elaborate answer, along with him keeping the rest of his composure and all his customary ceremonial manner of walking down the halls. Still, he welcomed that little support, which made him appear somewhat more casual than servants and passers-by would ordinarily be used to. "Does your stomach hurt?" Tauriel always took her duties seriously, though she had to wait with the question till they got to the quieter pastures leading to his inner chambers before she braved the personal inquiry, if not for anything else but because he would not be in the mood to indulge her if she didn't take into account his wish for keeping up appearances.

The taller elf rolled his eyes and gave her an admonishing look, "my stomach always hurts."

"Can I do something for you?" Tauriel reformulated the question, outwardly patient.

"Much wine we won't be able to take. This could be the last time to indulge for at least weeks that we might spend in the wilderness."

Tauriel panted inaudibly like a fish, eyes snapping up and betraying her obvious disapproval. "My Lord," she started, not being able to manage more for a moment. "May I be bold with you?"

Thranduil sat down and snorted benevolently, "I'm glad you have learnt to at least be polite and respectful enough to ask for permission. And not to confront me openly in public. It's an improvement."

The elleth paused, at a loss at what that was supposed to mean in terms of what she was supposed to do, but then Thranduil gave a flippant and dismissive gesture, "not a good time, risking health and journey, throwing away progress I've made, yaddayadda, save your breath." He walked over to one of his chest of drawers and pulled out a spiderweb covered, ancient looking bottle, "I've had Galion prepare this for us earlier," he pulled the cork out easily, proving that it had already been readied for drinking, "two glasses Tauriel if you please. You are drinking with me tonight."

Tauriel opened her mouth, but thought better of it and promptly closed it, looking for the items he requested. Thranduil sat down, smiling at her display of bridled impulses and self-control. "I will survive," he added mildly at her worried complexion.

Tbc

Glossary:

Le hannon – thank you
Navaer – good bye