"Till now that she was threatened with its loss, Emma had never known how much of her happiness depended on being first with Mr. Knightley, first in interest and affection…She had herself been first with him for many years past. She had not deserved it; she had often been negligent or perverse, slighting his advice, or even wilfully opposing him, insensible of half his merits, quarrelling with him because he would not acknowledge her false and insolent estimate of her own - but still, from family attachment and habit, and thorough excellence of mind he had loved her, and watched over her from a girl, with an endeavour to improve her, and an anxiety for her doing right, which no other creature had at all shared. In spite of all her faults, she knew she was dear to him; might she not say, very dear?" - Jane Austen, Emma
I stomped into the stables, throwing the bag I had filled with food over my mare.
"Please wait," Thranduil was running behind me. "You cannot depart so quickly!"
As soon as he had told me of Celebrían's capture, I had been filled with a panicked fear so strong that I had forgotten my surroundings. In my flustered haste, I threw off my nightdress and began to pull my trousers and tunic from a nearby chest. Not until Thranduil had cleared his throat behind me, had I realized I was naked in his presence.
"What is it?" I hissed. "Any more horrible news? Is my aunt deathly ill? Is Greenwood under attack?"
He continued to stare at me with wide eyes. "No…."
"Then face away!" I ordered. He complied, albeit slowly, and I was fully dressed by the time his back faced me. I grabbed my boots and ran past him, knocking him into the door frame.
"Come back!" he called.
Once in the stables, I was mounting and raring to go by the time he caught up with me, placing his hand on my mare and willing her not to dash off.
"You have to stay!" he urged. "She will be found – I did not tell you this so that you would run away!"
"You should know me better than that, then," I said. "My family is precious to me. Celebrían is my closet relative in this world, and I do not want to lose her so easily."
"You don't have to," Thranduil grasped my hand to plead with me. "But I need you here – without you the council nearly always agreed to my suggestions."
"Is that not what you want?"
His gaze hardened. "Wait one hour. Please."
"Half."
He nodded and bolted from the stable. It was several minutes until he returned, holding a bag similar to mine and now wearing stained travelling clothes.
"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded.
"Going with you," he replied, mounting his stallion. "Let's ride."
The horses began galloping, and I did not have a chance to dispute his decision. I was so angry – angry at the devil creatures that had taken Celebrían, and angry at my king for being so, so…
"We will go West," Thranduil called to me. "We'll cross the mountains and follow the road from Imladris to Lórien."
We were able to ride through the day, the night, and the next day again before our horses began stumbling on the downward curve of the mountains. We rested for the night in a small cave, and set off early the next morning again.
I felt as if my world had been ripped from under me, and I was falling into depths of uncertainty as my mind whirled. Celebrían was captured – and perhaps now dead, and Thranduil would marry another. I should not be so upset at that, I chided myself. I openly admitted that I did not love him. Why was I tormented so? I carefully studied his firmly set jawline as we rode, trying to understand the feelings that broiled inside of me for him.
We stopped that night as well, giving our horses another chance for rest until we met with the road to Lórien. Tired of lembas in the saddle, I found us a pair of rabbits and some wild vegetables and herbs while Thranduil built a fire.
"I will cook," he said, holding out his hands for the goods. His voice was cracked from so little use in the past days. I nodded, not trusting my own. I watched him skin the animals easily, admiring the shape of his fingers as they carefully worked. Glory, he had beautiful hands.
Once the pungent smell of the cooked stew reached my nose, I realized that I had not removed my gaze from Thranduil for the past hours. He smiled at me as I finally moved from my sitting position, and he handed me a spoon.
"I did not bring bowls," he said. "We will have to eat from the pot."
"Foolish to bring a pot and no bowls," I commented, moving closer to the king as he removed the pot from the fire and set it on the ground.
He shrugged. "I was rushed for time."
We ate in silence. I wondered if he was bitter of my actions from the ball. He did not seem perturbed, and I was thankful. But still shame squirmed in my insides at my inexcusable behavior, and my gaze dropped to the ground. I was very uncomfortable with the embarrassment that I felt - I had always taunted him and had never felt so guilty for it.
"I am sorry for my behavior at your ball," I said quietly, setting my spoon down. I could not eat any more.
"I forgive you," Thranduil said, not looking at me. "I am sure that I would react similarly, if I were you."
"I don't know why I did it," I whispered, mostly to myself. "I should not have felt such betrayal."
The last of the stew had disappeared, and to shake off my itchy feelings, I took the pot and spoons to a nearby stream to wash. The cool water on my hands was cleansing, and I felt as if I was washing away layers of anger, guilt, denial and pride. I returned to our campsite, too ashamed to look at Thranduil in the eyes. I sat restlessly by the fire as he lounged lazily by a tree, his eyes half-closed I stole glances his way as often as I dared. He had called me tempting, and now I experienced the same enticements. How could I love him? He had always fought with me – cheated to win – gloated at his victories, and was far too arrogant to make a humble husband. Ahh, a nagging voice in my head spoke. But he loves you – and he is a good king. He would never make you want for his love – his kisses make you burn. He is skilled enough to build you a home and to protect your children. He followed you on this journey, when he knew that you were upset and it profits him none. He is sometimes wiser than you, calmer than you, and far better behaved. He lacks what you have – compassion and hardiness - and you lack what he has – a sweet temperament and prudence. You compliment and complete each other.
I looked up and saw that Thranduil was watching me. "Your thoughts are deep," he said.
I was trembling. I loved him – I did not want to love him. But of course I did! He was wonderful to me, and we did complete each other. Our fights were unpleasant, but we worked with our different opinions and always forgave one another.
I stood, my knees shaking, to walk away. My one thought was for fresh air. I surprised myself, and Thranduil, by instead falling into a weak heap at his side. Had I wanted that? I decided that I did. "I do love you," I said, my arms clenching around his neck and with that strength nearly lifting myself into his lap. "I'm sorry it has taken me so long to know!"
Thranduil joined me in happy laughter, rocking me back and forth in his arms, nearly crushing me while the merry sound of his voice filled the glade. "At last!"
"I was too proud to love the king – the prince was always too immature for my affection!"
He kissed my hair, my forehead, my ears, my cheeks, my nose, and finally my lips, all the while murmuring to me his love. This time the joy was undiluted – we had finally reached an understanding.
"You need no forgiving," Thranduil finally whispered to me. "I should not have despaired so easily."
I gazed up at him. He had been joyous when he first kissed me, but now he seemed even gladder. I was, too. "I forgive you," I said. "If…" I pressed my finger to his lips before he could resume the kissing. "You never – ever – give up on me so easily again. Sometimes I need time to understand – I am not so confident in my emotions as you."
"Agreed," he said, now obviously impatient. "Withhold your sweet taste from me no longer!"
His hands grasped my body, moving swiftly, and it seemed he wanted to feel every inch of me. It was not unexpected as my caresses mirrored his, but I pulled away in surprise when his hand passed over my breast.
"Should I not?" he asked, kissing my temple. "I will not if you do not desire it."
"I…" I was lost for words. "I do desire it, but…"
"But what, my beloved?"
"Shouldn't we marry first?"
He laughed then, a clear sound that filled the glade with joy. "You are simply silly," he said, kissing my nose. "It would be a marriage – a marriage of bodies that is as official as a set of vows."*
"I know that," I said crossly. "But I also know that you are the king, and there are certain demands of your position…"
He groaned, resting his forehead against mine. I breathed in his heady scent, desire filling me once more. "You are right," he whispered. "Though I wish you were not."
"It will soon be dawn," My voice was low. "We should rest."
"I will only find solace with your body next to mine," Thranduil declared, standing with me still in his arms, and then laying me gently near the dying fire. He lay down next to me, offering me his arm as a pillow. I snuggled into his shoulder, and he held me tightly as his other hand swept back my disheveled hair. "Dream well," he whispered.
I woke to a warm nuzzling on my cheeks. The breath was not sweet enough to be Thranduil's, and I saw my mare's nose hovering over me. She was apparently ready to leave.
"Shoo," I told her, and with singular thoughts I reached my head over and began kissing Thranduil's face. A small smile lifted his lips, and he opened his eyes.
"I was worried that I had imagined last night in delirium," he said.
"No," I said, smiling back at him. "'Twas not." He gathered me in his arms and gave a kiss that sent a tremor through me.
We were riding again soon enough. We were nearing where we would cross the mountains once more into Lórien, when a band of riders came into our view.
"They're not orcs," Thranduil said.
It was the party that had searched for Celebrían. When we approached them, I saw that my cousin was among them! She rode alone, head down and in the center of her rescuers.
"Celebrían!" I called, leaping from my horse to run to her. She looked up, and I saw that the light had gone from her eyes. I went to her side and clasped her hand. "Are you well?"
"No, I am not," she said. My stomach sunk - what hope had been restored with Thranduil's affection dissipated.
It was a solemn party that continued the journey to Imladris.
*It was the act of bodily union that achieved marriage, and after which the indissoluble bond was complete. (The History of Middle Earth vol 12. "Laws and Customs of the Eldar".)