Tauriel returns to her room, positive she will be unable to sleep.
He kissed me, she thinks dazedly, the King kissed me… and I kissed him back.
She doesn't know what this means for them, or even if she wants it to mean anything. Obviously some part of her enjoyed it, wanted more even, urging her to get closer.
Then he pulled away, and brought up his long dead wife.
Perhaps he is just lonely.
She doesn't really believe that. While, yes, he may be lonely, she doesn't think that is the only reason he kissed her. Haven't they been growing closer? Skirting the edge of this— whatever this is, for a while now?
Curling up in her bed, Tauriel decides her swirling emotions are a problem to be deciphered another day. She needs to rest if she is to find evidence of Lord Haewon's treachery.
X
In another wing of the palace, alone in his own room, Thranduil finds himself much unluckier in his search for sleep than Tauriel.
He paces back and forth, wondering what drove him to act, and if kissing her was the right thing to do.
I know what drove me to act, he insists, calling himself out on the lie.
Thranduil has wanted to kiss her for a while now, even if he was hiding from that fact, trying to ignore it.
His real concern, is what will she now expect of him?
Will she be waiting for flowers and me on bended knee pledging myself? Or does she perhaps believe I acted rashly, and she expects nothing from me?
Worse… what if she wants nothing from me?
What if she only humored me because I am her king?
Thranduil pours himself a glass of wine, sloshing it all over his hand as he angrily snatches it up.
No, no, he reassures himself, if she were but humoring me she would not have responded as she did.
Remembering her body pressed up against him, and the way her lips parted to grant him entrance ignites a fire in his belly and he briefly wonders why he is alone in his chambers, when he could still be on the roof with Tauriel.
Shaking his head to clear the images of soft curves, and supple flesh glowing in the moonlight, Thranduil sinks onto the edge of his bed.
What is it that I want? He finally asks himself.
The answer comes to him without hesitation.
When he thinks of what he wants, his mind supplies a picture quite clearly.
Blazing eyes filled with determination, full lips smirking at him, sure hands that are both dainty and deadly, a woman's curves combined with the toned body of a warrior, all of that topped with flaming red hair, a sarcastic wit, and the ability to bypass a King's cold exterior.
What he wants is Tauriel.
Thranduil sighs, and drinks deeply from his cup; knowing what he wants, and getting what he wants are two completely different things.
There are so many more factors involved than whether or not Tauriel wants him as well. He must consider his position, and his Kingdom. It's almost unheard of for someone of his status to—to mingle with someone of her status. That's why he warned her away from Legolas.
Legolas, he thinks, groaning aloud. How would he react upon returning home to find me in a relationship with the very woman I warned him against?
Thranduil gets almost no sleep, drifting in and out of fractured dreams. Some of them replaying the scene in the garden, while in others he is stalked by a shadowy figure, and try as he might he cannot see their face.
X
Tauriel doesn't return to garden the rest of the week. She finds nothing of use to incriminate Lord Haewon, and therefore feels she has nothing to report. She is also afraid that if she does go to the garden, she will be faced with a conversation she's not ready to have.
She throws herself into her work, scouring her patrol path, much to the annoyance of her fellow patrol members.
They find her pace too slow, not holding back their complaints that were she to move faster they could cover a larger area. The only one who doesn't complain, aside from Thanben (but that hardly counts as Magol does his complaining for him), is Grond.
Grond just nods in approval at her orders and sets to work. Tauriel finds herself growing to appreciate that more and more.
After a particularly long day, with nothing to show but another empty spider nest, cleared once again by Orcs, Tauriel wants nothing more than to slip into a steaming bath, and then crawl into bed.
She's just removed her boots and her leather vest when someone knocks on her door.
Tauriel hopes it is Arodeth with dinner, she's famished.
Opening the door, she sees she was half right. It is dinner, but it is Arradon carrying the platter. He must see the confusion on her face.
"Our dinner date, remember?" he says. "So we can swap stories of our first week?"
"Oh, right," she says, stepping aside to let him in. "I'm sorry, it completely slipped my mind."
Arradon walks right over to her bed and sits down, placing the platter on the bed in front of him.
Tauriel joins him, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed.
"Tell me all about your week," she says brightly, before grabbing a roll off the platter.
"Not much to tell, honestly."
"Oh, I doubt that! You're doing your dream job! There must be something to share. How are you enjoying it? Is it living up to your expectations?"
"No," he sighs, and then breaks into a big smile, "it's far better than I expected!"
Arradon begins to tell her all about his time among the other court musicians. All the new friends he is making, the new music he is working on, and how the King requested him to perform a piece at the welcoming banquet for Lord Elrond.
"That's wonderful!" Tauriel exclaims. "I'm so very happy for you."
"It's all thanks to you. Thank you."
"You're the one with the talent, you never needed my help."
"Even if that were true, I did have your help, and I owe you so much," he insists, reaching forward to place a hand on her knee.
She shakes her head at him.
"Now," he says, leaning back again, "let's hear about your first week back."
With a weary sigh, Tauriel launches into her own story of the week, talking much longer than she anticipates. She shares everything, from finding the dead spiders, to her feeling of hopelessness that she may not figure out what is going on, even branching into discussing the members of her patrol at length. She spends the most time complaining about Echtel, and how she's tempted to knock him over the head and leave him for the forest creatures.
"Thanben and Magol are alright, I suppose, but they still question my authority and commands. Not as often as Echtel, perhaps, but enough to be rather annoying. The only saving grace is Grond, he always seems to have my back."
"I know Grond," Arradon pipes up, "he is a good person."
"I think so too," she says, and Arradon beams at her.
"Sounds like you have had a rough week," he says.
"To say the least," Tauriel groans, rolling her neck and popping it in several places.
She lets her chin fall forward and touch her chest, eyes closing as she takes a deep breath.
The mattress dips, and suddenly there are hands on her shoulders.
Arradon is kneeling behind her, and he begins massaging her. The combination of his training as a Guard member, and his musical skills give his hands an almost magical quality. They are strong and firm, yet nimble as they knead the knots along her shoulders.
Tauriel lets out a low moan, and her eyes pop open suddenly as she fully realizes the position they are in.
She sits up straight and leans away from his touch, twisting around to face him.
"What's wrong?" he asks, looking genuinely confused.
"Arradon," she begins, dread blossoming in her stomach, "you're— you are a great friend, and I truly value that friendship and… I would hate for there to be any—er— misunderstandings between us."
If possible, this just makes him look more confused, so she tries again.
"I just don't want there to be any, um, confusion about the nature of our friendship."
He blinks slowly, and then comprehension seems to dawn on him.
"Oh… Oh! No, no, of course not," he says. "I wouldn't— I mean to say, I know you suffered a loss, and I would never put you in that position."
Relief floods her, and Tauriel finds it easy to breath once more. She picks up a glass of water; her mouth grew very dry while trying to find the right words.
"And," he continues, "I know that there is something between you and the King, and I would hate to come between that."
The water she's drinking goes down the wrong tube, and she chokes, coughing and sputtering.
"What— what do you mean?" she asks, voice coming out as a croak.
Arradon cocks his head to one side and gives her a look that clearly says who do you think you're fooling.
She purses her lips and shakes her head, refusing to meet his gaze.
"Oh, come on," he laughs, "after what happened at the Feast of Isilmë, there is no denying there is something going on with you two. Not to mention you can't keep your eyes off one another when in the same room."
When she still won't say anything, he just laughs more and rolls his eyes at her.
"Your silence is as good as a confession."
"You— don't you— preposterous…" she stumbles.
"It's not like I'm going to tell anyone," he scoffs, and then mumbles, "not like I need to."
Her cheeks flush bright red.
When Arradon continues laughing, Tauriel reaches for one of her pillows and chucks it right at his head.
X
Thranduil has his own dinner guest tonight.
Lady Neleth, eager to discuss her plans for Lord Elrond's arrival.
She swept into his office just before dinner and asked if he would care to join her to go over the plans. Having no excuse not to, Thranduil found himself agreeing with a fake smile plastered to his face.
While they waited to be served, Lady Neleth stood beside his chair, leaning over his shoulder to point at the papers she spread before him. Each time she did so, her breasts pressed up against him, and he vaguely wonders if she is doing it on purpose.
She's been awfully friendly since they danced together at the feast.
The first course arrives, and Neleth gathers her papers, bending low over the table, her top hanging loosely.
"So, my King, have you heard from your son?" she asks, conversationally.
"Sadly, I have not," he replies, stiffening slightly. "I have faith Legolas is more than capable of taking care of himself, however."
"Of course. He is a very skilled warrior."
There is a rapping on the dining chamber door, and it opens to allow Dagon in.
He strides purposely towards them, stopping a few feet away and offering a bow to Thranduil.
"My King," he says, "I am sorry to interrupt your dinner, but all of the Captain's reports are now in, and there is one I think you will be quite interested in."
"Whose report?"
"Tauriel, my King."
"What did she find? Is she— is her patrol group alright?" Thranduil asks, sitting straighter in his chair.
Dagon looks to Lady Neleth, and then back to Thranduil, questioningly.
Thranduil just nods and waves his hand for the Captain to continue.
"They are fine, but today they discovered another cleared spider nest. This too looks like the work of Orcs."
Thranduil swears under his breath, and turns his attention to Lady Neleth.
"Forgive me, my Lady," he begs, "but I must see to these new developments. I trust your judgment to handle the rest of the welcoming details. Good evening."
He sweeps away, barely giving her a chance to stutter out her own farewell before he is in the hall with Dagon.
"Now, where did this happen?"
X
The next day Tauriel makes her way to meet up with her patrol, wondering if she'll regret everything she told Arradon the night before… because she probably told him far too much.
He was just such a good listener! Once she started to open up, it was as if she couldn't stop.
Arradon agreeing with Arodeth's statement, about the heart being a fickle thing, also made her feel better.
The guilt she feels for thinking about another when she so recently lost Kili, probably won't fade completely, but between the maid and the musician, she is starting to feel the guilt less and less.
When she reaches the front gates, Tauriel is surprised to see more than just her patrol waiting for her.
In addition to her usual four, they are joined by Captain Dagon and Thranduil.
"My King," she says, bowing and trying not to think about what happened the last time they were together. "What brings you out here today?"
"The King wishes to see the nest you found yesterday," Dagon informs her. "We want you to lead the way."
"Oh, of course," she agrees. "Are you ready to leave now?"
"We are," Thranduil tells her, finally speaking.
Their gazes lock and they stay that way perhaps too long, because Grond clears his throat loudly drawing her back.
"Uh, right. You heard them, let's move," Tauriel recovers, moving to take the lead as they set out through the open gates.
Tauriel normally feels so at ease in the woods, loving the freedom that comes with the open air, but today she is too self-conscious to relax.
Every step she takes, to her, sounds like the thundering footfall of a wounded bear. Every breath she takes seems too labored, and she can't stop second-guessing her navigation skills as they head for the nest.
It is at a fork in the path, where she changes her mind last second, recalling they must go left, rather than right, when her foot catches a root and sends her sprawling backwards.
She lands hard, though not on the ground. Arms wrap around her before she can do any real harm to herself, and when Tauriel glances over her shoulder she finds her back pressed against the King's chest.
After the slightest hesitation, he sets her right and they continue hiking on, Tauriel burning from head to toe with embarrassment.
They make it to the nest just before noon.
It looks the same as it did the day before, and the same as the one they found a week previous.
Spider bodies litter the ground, most of them missing legs and torn apart. The ground is too hard for there to be any recognizable tracks, but a few of the spiders still have spears or axes hanging from them, leaving no doubt that the Orcs are responsible.
King Thranduil takes in the scene before him in silence, and then he and Dagon make their way around, performing their own inspection.
As they already checked the area yesterday, Thanben, Magol, and Echtel all spread out on the ground to have a picnic lunch.
Tauriel bites her tongue and says nothing, while she and Grond double-check their surroundings to see if they missed anything.
They didn't.
"Nothing," Thranduil growls, having completed his own search.
Tauriel takes a long swig from her canteen, and holds it out to Thranduil.
He takes it with a nod of thanks, and takes a long drink before passing it back to her.
"We should head back," she tells them. "If we don't we may not make it before dark."
Everyone murmurs their agreement, and the lunch trio packs up their gear.
They make it less than fifty feet into the forest away from the nest, Tauriel again leading the way, when the largest spider she has ever seen drops down in front of her.
It's at least three times the size of the dead spiders back in the clearing.
Tauriel reaches over her shoulders for her daggers, but before she can draw her weapons, she is thrown to the side out of harms way.
Thranduil takes her place, drawing his own sword and charging the beast.
She can only watch from where she sits, slumped in the underbrush. Attempting to join the fight, Tauriel finds herself caught on something.
The other patrol members must have come to their senses, because they join the charge. With their help the creature is dispatched in no time, all while Tauriel is still trying to free herself.
Thranduil appears beside her, crouching over her, concern clouding his face.
"Are you alright?" he asks, voice hoarse.
"Yes… I'm fine… just… stuck," she tells him through gritted teeth.
"Let me help," he says, kneeling to better reach the vines tangled around her feet.
When her feet are finally free, Thranduil offers her his hand and helps her to her feet.
She's pulled to a standing position, just inches from him, and notices the way his brow furrows, just before he reaches a hand up to cup her cheek.
Her heart thuds loudly.
As if suddenly remembering they are not alone, Thranduil drops his hand and steps back away from her.
"You have a cut," he says pompously, "there on your cheek. You'll want to have that looked at."
Without another word, Thranduil turns away and begins down the path once more, leaving Tauriel standing breathless as five pairs of eyes turn from the King's back to her blushing face.
Author's Note: I am so sorry about the long wait! With the sudden appearance of Spring, I find myself ridiculously busy! I guess hibernations is over... I hope this chapter is worth the wait! Please let me know what you think. As always reviews are greatly appreciated!
Just a little warning, I'm leaving on Tuesday to take my great grandmother on a cross country road trip to Las Vegas, so the next chapter probably won't be up until April 11th or 12th. On another note, please go to my profile and check out some of the amazing (hilarious) story art for this tale, done by The Last Victorian!