Chapter 12: Decampment
"May I suggest a respite, My Lord?" Tauriel looked over at her travel companion now that she's finally caught up with the older elf. "Vegetation is not so dense around here, we should be able to see danger coming easier in these parts of the forest."
Thranduil slowed his unremarkable, light bay horse only marginally, barely enough to allow for comprehensible conversation, "do not call me My Lord. Would I dress in this manner if I wanted you to address me so?" He nodded down at his clothes minutely and pointedly, simple grey leggings and a plain, knee length undershirt, covered with kine of araw skin jerkin and boots, not much different than what Legolas would've worn. The cloak she did in fact wonder about, for Thranduil's height, it seemed a little short, so it passed through her thoughts that the king maybe picked it out from his son's wardrobe, especially as she doubted he would've owned anything as plain. His distinctive mane he covered with a cloak, but when it slid off during riding a couple of times, Tauriel could see that it was pleated neatly out the way, further altering his appearance from what people came to expect of the Elvenking.
"Of course," Tauriel swallowed the subsequent to be address, "what would you like me to call you?"
"You can call me melleth egûr nîn, melethril nîn, guren vell or something akin to those expressions," he said as if it would've been the most natural thing in the world.
"Sorry?" Tauriel drew her eyebrows together in confusion.
"My plan is for the two of us to pose as a couple as we travel. Commonplace terms of endearment would be expected."
Tauriel took a deep breath and urged her horse on. The elleth just realised she was lagging behind due to not paying attention to the animals' pace in her astonishment. "Still. A name might prove necessary in certain circumstances?" She ventured.
"Nargothronuin." At her guarded expression he added, "terms where I come from, the great underground fortess under the river Narog. Not all that different from the Halls in fact," he explained, "but in Beleriand." His voice took on a dreamy, captivated tone, but he didn't elaborate further and seemed to have stopped talking and considered the conversation over. It was already more personal than anyone she knew of hearing him discussing at any case. So it was quite a shock when he added, "shorten it to Ronuin. My mother did."
"Ronuin," she repeated, for the sake of helping herself remember and taking time to calm herself at the reveal at the same time. "How about a break then, Ronuin?" The redhead addressed him a lot less formally, adjusting to the manner she assumed he wanted her to speak to him in.
"No. I want to shake Feren before we stop. He will follow orders and won't tail us beyond the borders of Mirkwood."
"The horses will need a break at some point at any case."
"Feren assures me they are some of his best. They will serve us well till late tomorrow at least," Thranduil assured and led his animal off the river path, leaving Tauriel no other choice but to follow and force further questions and worries for the king's wellbeing to the back of her mind as she manoeuvred her way zigzagging between trees and dense vegetation. If the route taken was a trail, there seemed to be no indication of it and the Silvanian didn't know it or have ever travelled on it.
Tbc
Glossary:
melleth egûr nîn – love of my heart
melethril nîn – my lover
guren vell – sweetheart