"A marriage?!" Legolas swiftly walked closer to his father who sat upon his throne. Slight anger was in the prince's eyes. Iythrinel, standing behind her king placed a hand upon his shoulder.
"She will be arriving shortly. I would have informed you sooner but you were out on patrol with the captain." Thranduil answered dipping his head towards the Silvan elf who bowed her head.
Legolas shook his head "Why have you decided to marry? To a woman you do not know at that? Someone you do not love?" Legolas' eyes flickered to Iythrinel quickly without notice by his father.
"I will reveal to you my reasons after she has arrived, without what she carries you will not understand." Thranduil intertwined his hands,
"You would marry a second time?" Legolas finally tried. Iythrinel felt Thranduil tense under her hand.
"I have my reasons my son, now go rest, you will come with me to meet her." Dismissed, Legolas left the room in an angered manner followed by the others leaving Thranduil and Iythrinel alone.
"He should understand once you tell him of your full plans." She said walking to the front of the throne.
He leaned back into the throne, "I do not like seeing my son's anger directed at me." He said.
"It won't be for long, I am sure, Legolas is understanding." Thranduil looked up to her, his oldest friend.
"Is what I am doing right?" He asked, feeling doubt in his decisions.
Iythrinel paused then knelt before him in a bow, "It matters not what I think, just know that no matter what I shall follow your word, my king, my friend."
But in her heart Iythrinel was filled with sorrow for she must once again watch Thranduil marry.
In the early morning of the day, or so it was on Arda, Faeilân was dressed and already set out, walking down the long path that led to the Elvenking's front gates. The sorrow she'd watched cross her mother's features had almost been her undoing. She'd wanted to tell them all to kiss her. . .something very unlady like. But what had kept her strong was the knowledge that if she did not go, Isadara would have to. Her younger sister had cried, clinging to her, asking her why she'd had to go and throw herself to the wolves. Fae gently reminded her that, either way, herself or Isadara, it would have been farewell. That had only made her sister cry harder. Her mother cried as well, only her brothers and father stood there, proud, and weary.
"Be safe, Faeilân." her father spoke, his usually lively voice soft and frail, cracking as he held back tears. She wrinkled her nose at him, gently tapping his jaw with her fist. He smiled, then looked at Olórin, "Take care of her."
Olórin dipped his head, and after giving quick hugs to her family, she fled before she could change her mind, Ainur and Olórin hot on her tail. On the way, Olórin, er, Mithrandir rather, told her a bit about Thranduil and his history. Many things made this situation...awkward, to say the least. First it was an arranged marriage, something unheard of among the elves. They believed fully in marrying for love, but this male had been set up with his wife, twice now. Rather he grew to love the she-elf or not, she was still an arrangement.
Second, almost unheard of, was an elf remarrying after losing their first spouse, especially after already having a two-thousand year old son. Or any child period. But, according to her family, their marriage would ensure the elf kingdom's survival. They seemed to be doing well, though, was her observation as she looked around. Mithrandir had also told her that the King was under the impression that he was doing another elven family a "favor," protecting their daughter from her inevitable destruction,as she was of mixed race of Moriquendi and Calaquendi, and therefore unaccepted. Which was not true at all, really. And of course, he'd was being paid handsomely. She wanted to scoff; paid for ensuring his own survival. And even not for his survival, being paid for a favor! What a joke.
So this was how she found herself standing in front of a tall, thin elf with long pale hair and cold eyes, staring up at him with a wrinkled nose. She tilted her head, and he did the same, both of them sizing each other up, judging before even speaking if the other was worthy. Beside him and to him right was another male, one only a bit shorter than the giant elvenking. Fae could only assume he was Thranduil's son, Legolas. To his left, a pretty little elven woman, even shorter than Fae, which made her lift a brow. And behind them, an entire platoon of guards. Well, wasn't this a royal welcome.
Mithrandir had taken on the guise of just that, Mithrandir, Gandalf the grey, his cloak drab and his staff clicking along the ground as they walked. When they stopped, he dipped his head, giving Thranduil a small bow.
"Ah, Thranduil. It has been a while." he said humbly, his voice strained, as with age. Fae wanted to giggle.
"Indeed it has, Mithrandir." was all he really said as he again took Fae in, making her want to fidget. But she lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing slightly, before she relented and gave a small bow. And she only did that because she caught a swift elbow to the side from her escort.
An infuriating smirk crossed the Elvenking's features, and she resisted the urge to curl her lip, Ainur growling as he pranced around to stand in front of her. Thranduil's eyes widened and he ignored the coo from the female beside him. Though it made Fae smile a little to herself.
"And what, pray tell, is that beast?" which got another growl from Ainur.
"That, beast, would be Ainur. He is sensitive and would appreciate it if you would-" she was cut off again by Gandalf's elbow, receiving him a hostile glare.
And back to sizing each other up they went. Until finally, the awkward silence was broken by his words. And he was rude. The first words from his mouth being, "You're more curvy than most, aren't you?"
Faeilân bristled, Mithrandir let his shoulders droop in an "And so it begins" fashion and gave a sigh, a sharp inhale was heard, and instead of striking him Fae retaliated with words, in perfect Sindar elvish, "And your eyebrows do not match your face, nor your hair, elf. Were they not attached I'd believe they were caterpillars."
With that, she turned on her heel and left him. She thought she'd heard the distinct snort of a female, but she paid it no mind, and also ignored the grumble of, "Well that went well." from Gandalf. If she were being honest, Thranduil was quite handsome, and she liked his eyebrows. If she were being even more honest with herself she'd also enjoyed his voice. But she'd enjoyed the look of shock on his face as she'd stormed away from his palace and into the woods, turning a seething glare on the guards who tried to follow after her. Even Ainur chuffed at the elvenking, making him take a step back, thus causing the female next to him to place herself before the tiger before the animal flounced off, following close behind Faeilân. She hadn't even made it into his palace before he'd made her want to murder him.
Her heart was heavy all over again, her head falling back against a tree she leaned against. Her grandfather had been right; she was not the one match for this duty. but she couldn't very well shirk it now. She sighed, her fingers about to sink into the fur of Ainur, who was speaking softly to her, complaining about how he didn't like the elf. But then she heard a sound.
She had stayed by the river, following it's path so she wouldn't get lost, but now, curious, she pushed herself up from where she had lay back on her giant cat, and moved forward through the few trees that kept her vision from the full extent of the waters. And that was where she first saw the mortal.
He was handsome, strong for a mortal. Lifting barrels from the river with an ease that most could not accomplish. He was casual as he bit into an apple, holding it in his mouth as he stretching his arms upward, a loud pop heard in his back, making him groan. She couldn't help the small gasp that left her lips, and he turned quickly, arrow nocked and aimed right at her heart faster than she'd seen any mortal move ever. Fae held her breath, and after blinking a moment he dropped them to his side, placing the arrow back into where ever it had come from and clutching the bow in his left hand so he could let the apple fall into his right.
Faeilân, what is happening? Do you have need of me-
No, Ainur, stay back. There is no danger here. Stay there until I tell you. Please.
She could tell he didn't want to, but she felt him relent, heard the soft sound of him settling back into the brush, a sound only sensitive ears would be able to pick up.
"Apologies, my lady. I thought you were a danger." He dipped his head, though his eyes couldn't seem to help themselves, remaining on her face as if captivated.
She couldn't reply, she only knew some forms of Elvish and Valarin. She could easily learn a language, especially one as simple as the common tongue. But he needed to speak more first so she could grasp it.
He frowned, and looked around before looking at her again, taking a tentative step forward, "Are you lost?" He seemed to be looking without trying to be rude, determine if she was an elf or a human woman. After a moment of her just staring, and him doing the same, she was sure he thought she was dim, and the effect was no doubt worsened by the smile she gave him. Great. Perfect. Fantastic. This was exactly what she needed.
Though, he gave her a little smile in return and lifted his hand to her, "My lady?" That was all she needed. She took a deep breath and then struggled to form a sentence, her accent thick.
"Lost?" she tried, and he lifted a brow. Fae's scowl deepened, and she looked down and tried again. "I am not lost. I was startled. Did not…expect…to meet anyone…here." The sentence was awkward and thrown together, her and this damn broken common tongue, but he seemed to grasp what she was saying and gave a small laugh, his hand still sticking out. He seemed to notice this and flushed, pulling it back, but she reached forward and grasped it quickly. He didn't seem to mind, if not a little startled by her speed.
"Nor did I." his voice was just above a whisper, and she looked up to see him staring at her again. His eyes were the most beautiful, naturally bi-toned light brown and grey she'd ever seen. And in this magical moment, Ainur had finally decided he'd had enough suspense, and forced his way out of the underbrush with an ominous growl.
That is it, Lady Fae, I'm com- Who is that!? And that was what Bard has heard as a growl, not the words, but the deep growl. Ainur moved himself infront of Fae, who rolled her eyes and wanted the earth to swallow her whole in that moment, and the poor mortal fell back, almost falling into one of his barrels, the apple he'd been holding sailing through the air and into the rushing waters of the river. He made a wild grab for his bow, raising the hostility in Ainur.
My lady! Look out!
"My lady, run!"
She took a moment to appreciate the fact that men, no matter the species, were idiots.
"No! It is fine! Settle down, the both of you!" She reached forward, grasping ahold of Ainur's tail and hauled him back. The horror that ran across the mortal's face was hilarious.
"You know this beast!?" the brown hair man asked, and again, Fae rolled her eyes.
BEAST? WHY DO THEY THINK TO CA- WHO DO THEY THINK THEY ARE. The nerve of these humans and elves! Already I yearn to return to Aman.
Fae signed and let her head fall, dismayed as Ainur complained and bitched in her head.
Will you settle down? I did tell you not to come out, after all.
Shock showed across the tiger's face, making Fae smile a little, and he chuffed for the second time in only about an hour. With one last glare at the human, he bared his teeth and shuffled back into the wilderness.
Well, fine.
"He has an attitude, does he?" she turned her head to see the cautious, but friendly smile crossing the male's face, and she found herself smiling back, relieved, though she couldn't fathom why.
"I...am sorry. He is..protective?" The more the mortal spoke, the better she got at it, and so she asked for what she'd wanted to know since she'd seen him. "What is your name? I am called Faeilân. "
He stepped forward then, more than willing, and a bright, genuine smile lit up his features, taking her breath.
"Bard. My name is Bard."