For the first time in ages Thranduil slept a dreamless sleep, with no nightmares to haunt his mind and torment his soul. He woke up at sunrise, alone. The light was casting a soft, golden glow across the room. His blue eyes widened as he kept staring at the ceiling while his mind made him wonder if she had in fact left the palace as she planned to. He forbade it. Just the thought of her crossing him like that angered him beyond compare.
He walked to the table in the corner of the room and poured himself a glass of wine. Allowing his spirit to calm, he could then sense that she was near, still inside the walls, protected.
The sound of a door opening interrupted him. Unnanounced, the servant entered the room to bring him the news. The last of the patrols had just arrived back from the north border carrying the bodies of the elves that were lost on the battlefield. Today would be a day of mourning for all Greenwood.
Sonja was sitting cross-legged in the chair near the window in her room, silent and very still, her face focused on the garden below where the elves were making preparations for the night's solemn ceremony. There was no more music or laughter, the air itself seemed burdened with sorrow. She felt tired, but for some reason she could not allow herself to sleep.
The day passed swiftly, the lanterns were lit and the elves gathered under the trees. Their songs of lament resounded beautifully in the night as they rose higher and higher to meet the stars above.
Thranduil arrived late. He was covered in gore that seeped through his tunic, but he didn't seem to mind it. The crown was placed on his head, but the rings were missing from his fingers. He appeared cold, calculated, ruthless, every bit the King that most feared and obeyed. The sight of him like that scared her. As he walked among the elves, they each bowed to him and in turn Thranduil whispered words of comfort to them.
He had spent his entire afternoon interogating the orc prisoners. From the looks of it and from knowing his temper, none remained that still drew breath inside the dungeons. The attack at the border was bold and the elf now feared the threat from the north to be higher than he first expected.
Sonja could not bring herself to leave her room and join them. She still felt like an outsider and was more comfortable in her chair near the window from where she was watching them, she was watching him.
She could tell that he was distraught. The King was struggling to hide it, his face voided of expressions, but somehow she was able to read his torment at the sight of his fallen kin. There were grief and sadness pulling him down in the most painful way. His voice joined the others in their prayers addressed to Manwe and Mandos, praising the Valar and asking them to welcome their beloved sons into the halls of their undying lands.
Long hours passed.
During the entire evening, his eyes never looked up at her, nor his thoughts ever disturb hers. Sonja wondered if the events of night's past made him act so distant towards her ever since, but it was not her intention to dwell on such thoughts for too long. He was an immortal King and she was a nobody, it had been wrong from the start and she knew it very well. They were both hurting inside still, looking to escape the wounds of the past. She needed to keep away from him for a while.
Then just as he was leaving the garden, he caught her eye, his blue ones piquing with sudden interest. In a flash, the intrigue disappeared and he went on his way. Sonja turned from the window, seeking refuge in the darkness of her room.
The King retired to his chambers, but was unable to find sleep. The stars were shinning bright, making him think of her unexpectedly. He had tried to ignore her all day, wanting to proove to himself that she had no grasp over him. But then why had he ask her to stay? And why has it been so easy for him to tell her about his wife? He so very rarely spoke of her, unable to escape the crushing guilt that her memory brought over him.
Thranduil went for some fresh air on his private balcony and then stepped back inside the room. Everything around him kept reminding him that they had made love there. Desire seized his heart as his thoughts focused on her. He felt his whole body starting to ache, craving for her touch, her smell, her deep eyes. He wanted her, badly.
His hunger made him leave the comfort of the royal chambers, pacing down the hallway, until his feet brought him at her door. She was not inside the room. It made him angry not to have her now. He stormed out, determined to find her.
He began to consider locking Sonja up in that room, his weakness, the mortal that could soothe his pain and trouble his heart. But he knew that she would never trully be his and neither forgive him for that. His rage slowly subsided, giving way to concern. Where could she be at this late hour?
Trying to connect with her mind, as to get a glimpse of her whereabouts, he could sense that she was overwhelmed by many conflicting feelings. The moon was reflecting its silver light in her hair where she stood, on the large terrace overlooking the forest, gazing aimlessly into the night. She was close.
He strode fast along the corridor, passing by several balconies, until he finally caught sight of her. Her white dress was flowing all the way to the floor and seemed almost transluscent under the stars, revealing her feminine features.
Sonja turned to face the corridor and found him waiting in the dark, watching her.
-'Come to me!' he asked, his tone demanding and lustful.
-'Thranduil!' she sighed soflty, unable to move at the sight of him.
Only then did he realize that he had been roaming the halls of his palace half naked. But in that moment, he couldn't care less. He smirked. She has been missing him, he could feel it. His appetite for her was growing stronger by the second, until he could not contain it anymore.
The elf approached her, with steps silent on the stone floor. His face came into the light, ghostly pale, his eyes, two oceans under moonlight. Sonja retreated a few paces, avoiding his gaze.
Pulling close to her, Thranduil could feel the heat radiating from her skin through the thin fabric. He traced her chin with the tip of his fingers before roughly tilting it up to meet her eyes again. Sonja defended herself as her palm flew to meet his face. The King caught her wrist before it could land against his cheek. She could not escape his strong grip.
Touching her again made him feel like he lost all control. She felt his lips so close to hers, burning and teasing for long and agonizing moments, until he finally leaned all the way to close the distance between them in a deep and passionate kiss. His hands fell to her shoulders and then further down her body, fueling her own desires, while his thoughts invaded hers once more: 'You are mine, all mine!'