"Are you sure he knows you're unavailable?"
"Am I?"
"Are you?"
That brief exchange and the heated kiss that followed keep Thranduil up late into the night; the scene playing over and over again in his mind.
As he knows sleep is out of the picture, he tries to tend to matters of state, but after settling into his council room he cannot stay focused long enough to accomplish anything, and eventually finds himself wondering about what Lady Neleth said earlier.
Perhaps there is a grain of truth in Lord Haewon's accusations, he muses. I have been rather distracted lately. Could it be we are not making progress because of my own wandering mind?
Thranduil shakes his head silently at himself.
No, no of course not. Just because I've been a bit preoccupied, that doesn't mean I don't have my kingdom's best interests at heart.
Although, perhaps my head would be a bit more clear if Tauriel and I were to have a… upfront discussion about… matters.
He shifts uncomfortably at the thought.
What does she expect from me? Surely she understands there are things I cannot give, such as…
The latch on the door clicks, echoing loudly through the quiet chamber.
Instantly on guard, Thranduil blows out the single candle in front of him, and slips from behind his desk, slinking into the corner of the room.
He watches as a hooded figure enters, carrying a small lantern.
This mysterious intruder heads straight for his desk, setting the lantern down, and begins to rifle through the papers scattered across the top.
Thranduil springs, wrapping one arm around the intruder's neck from behind, and his other hand pulling a blade from inside his robes.
"Who are you and what do you think you are doing?" Thranduil hisses.
"Please, my King! Forgive me!"
"Neleth?"
Thranduil releases his hold and spins her around, pushing her hood back and indeed revealing the councilwoman.
"I could have killed you! What are you doing?" he demands.
"I—I'm sorry, my King. I forgot one of my scrolls when I was here earlier. I came to get it. I didn't think anyone would be up."
With a shaky hand, Neleth grabs a roll of paper from the edge of the desk and hands it to him.
Unrolling it, Thranduil recognizes the seating chart they went over that afternoon.
"This couldn't have waited until morning?"
"I couldn't sleep," she explains, "I thought I would do some more work on the plans. I realized I was perhaps a bit presumptuous placing myself at your side. That seems a spot more reserved for the eldest member of the council."
Thranduil sighs and shakes his head.
"No, no, it's fine. You planned everything after all."
"Again, I am so very sorry. I should never have entered your council chambers without permission."
"Don't apologize," he insists, suddenly very weary. "If anything, forgive me. Did I hurt you?"
"No, I'm fine… just a bit startled. You have nothing to apologize for, though, charging a shadowy figure in your office in the dead of night. May I— may I ask why you're here working so late?"
"I couldn't sleep either," he admits.
"Why not?" she asks earnestly.
Thranduil doesn't respond right away, and the curiosity glinting in her eyes, quickly shifts to chagrin.
"That was rude. It's not my place," she begins to apologize, but he cuts her off.
"Honestly, I was thinking about what you told me earlier, about the rumors circulating. How bad is it really? Are my people doubting me?"
"I wouldn't say that anyone is doubting you," Neleth begins, rather evasively, "there are just whispers. People are curious more than anything. Our kingdom has been the same for so long, but now things are changing. A lot. The deviation from the norm, and downright upheaval of traditions, has set people on edge."
He sighs, feeling twice as weary as he was just moments ago.
"I appreciate your honesty. What do you recommend I do to restore order and faith?" he asks.
She ponders his question, looking only slightly uncomfortable about being put on the spot.
"Something big," Neleth muses, "and something steeped in tradition. Maybe something that will make the kingdom feel united. There are fractures in our communities, stemming from differing of opinions, and losses suffered and not suffered during the battle."
"Something big, traditional, and uniting? I haven't the slightest clue."
"Well," she says slowly, "you could get married."
Thranduil starts laughing, and it's only once he sees her mortified face he realizes she wasn't joking.
"You're serious?" he asks.
"Have you never considered it? I thought— I mean— it's been so long since... Aren't you lonely? Your position seems very isolated."
"I suppose I haven't ever considered it. There has never… there was never anyone to make me consider it."
"That's the best I can come up with, my King."
Thranduil grows quiet.
He remains silent for so long, Neleth begins to excuse herself.
She stops after just a few steps, and turns back to face him, resolve clear on her face.
"Did you know we were once promised to one another?" she asks him.
"I'm sorry?"
"Our fathers made an arrangement when we were both quite young. This was when my family still lived in our own hold. Your father needed more soldiers, and my father had his own garrison. They struck a bargain."
"I've never heard this."
"My father's men fought for your father, and many died. They agreed they would wait until we were older to tell us. However, before that day came you had already met Gilrin. Your father broke the deal, and it was only then my own father told me," Neleth tells him. "I'm happy you found love, my King, but marriages can be also be built on mutual respect, and contracts meant to benefit those we care about."
She pauses and Thranduil's not sure whether she expects him to speak.
"If you do decide you wish to do something big, traditional, and uniting, I am still willing to complete the bargain our fathers struck. Goodnight."
Lady Neleth leaves, and Thranduil sits on the edge of his desk, trying to process everything she's just told him.
He can't believe his father would make a deal like that and never tell him, though he doesn't doubt what Lady Neleth said.
Out of everything, one question immediately comes to mind.
Was I just proposed to?
X
After she left Thranduil, Tauriel sought out both Grond, and Echtel, to tell them of the new mission. She also sent word to the twins that for the time being they would be transferring to another patrol.
She is positive she won't be able to sleep when she climbs into bed that night, but it's as if her body forces her into a deep slumber, preparing itself for the journey to come.
The next morning Arodeth is already there with breakfast when Tauriel awakes.
"You know I'm only going to be gone three days, don't you?" she asks, looking over the enormous spread of food waiting for her.
"Three days is a long time to go without a hot meal," Arodeth insists. "Now you just hush and eat something. And I'm expecting you to have seconds as well!"
Obligingly, Tauriel slips out of bed and grabs a large roll from the elaborate display.
"Is there anything else you me to get you before you go? Fresh stockings? Cakes for the road? Are your weapons sharp enough?" Arodeth frets.
"You wouldn't happen to be worried about me, would you?"
"Me? Oh, of course not. Why would I worry about you disappearing into the dark, infested, forest for three days to go looking for an army of Orcs? What's there to worry about?"
"Exactly," Tauriel replies innocently, taking another bite from her roll.
Arodeth stares at her exasperatedly, and throws her arms up in the air.
"Okay, then. Fine."
She marches towards the door and groans, then turns around to march straight back at Tauriel.
"Do you have to go?"
"Of course I do, but don't worry. I'll be fine." Tauriel tries to reassure her.
"You had best be. Take care of yourself out there. I couldn't— you're my…"
"You're my best friend too, Arodeth."
The maid smiles at her, her eyes threatening tears, and pulls her into a hug.
"I can see why mortals choose to express affection this way," Arodeth mumbles into her hair, and Tauriel just smiles.
"I'll see you in three days," Tauriel says, pulling away. "Now you take care as well. I don't think this kingdom could function without you."
Arodeth snorts, and wishes Tauriel a safe journey before excusing herself.
After eating more than she normally would, knowing the empty trays will please Arodeth, Tauriel waits at the front gates for Grond and Echtel.
Grond is the first to arrive, and Arradon shows up right behind him.
"What are you doing here?" Tauriel asks, pleasantly surprised.
She hasn't got to see much of him lately.
"I just wanted to see you off," he tells her, smiling, "and to tell you to be safe out there. Both of you be safe out there."
Arradon throws in a pointed nod at Grond, who just smirks.
"We will be," Tauriel swears, "I promise. You know this isn't my first patrol? Why is everyone so worried?"
Before Arradon can respond, no doubt with something sarcastic, Echtel runs up to join them.
"You were almost on time," she says, "I'm impressed."
"I would have been early, had I not been intercepted by one of the King's stewards. Here," Echtel retorts, shoving a scroll at her.
Tauriel takes it and immediately sees the King's wax seal.
Breaking it open and scanning the missive, she sighs.
"Alright, change of plans. Looks like our route has been altered. We're branching off southwest near where the Enchanted River bends."
"Towards the mountains near the Old Forest Road?" Grond asks.
Tauriel nods.
"I'm ready when you are, Captain."
She turns to Arradon, who looks more concerned than he'll admit.
"We'll be fine. We have to go, though, so we can get back," she teases. "Dinner when I get back?"
"You had best count on it," he smiles, offering them all a small bow.
Once they are in the trees, Echtel pipes up, and Tauriel suppresses a groan, knowing his recent good behavior couldn't last.
"He seems like a decent enough fellow," he comments. "There's got to be something wrong with him, though, giving up a military career like his to be a musician."
She's about to respond, but Grond beats her to it.
"Because clearly someone who doesn't feel like risking their life must have something wrong with them," Grond sneers sarcastically. "Now, why don't you stop risking ours and silence that hole in your face."
Tauriel has to bite her lip to keep from laughing, thinking how unprofessional that would be. She does, however, shoot Grond an appreciative smile the next chance she gets.
As usual, the day is fairly uneventful. They find nothing to indicate an Orc pack is nearby, but the silence of the forest leaves Tauriel feeling uneasy. Though normally not very lively, their surroundings are even more deadly quiet than usual.
As the sun begins to sink, and the darkness around them grows, so does the group's tension.
Nobody says it, but it is clear they all share the same uneasiness from being in the forest at night.
"I'd really love a fire right about now," Echtel says as they settle in to make camp for the night.
"We can't risk it," Tauriel reminds him.
"Who is going to see it? The forest is practically empty, and the trees are so thick, it would almost be impossible to see."
"You've answered your own question," Grond counters. "Why do you suppose the forest is empty? What could drive away the beasts that call this home? And as you said, almost impossible to see; which means still possible."
Echtel mumbles under his breath, and then says something practically unintelligible about having to find a bathroom, before stomping off into the woods.
Tauriel rolls her eyes.
"Maybe if we move now, he'll just go back to the castle when he can't find us," Grond suggests, making her laugh again.
A few minutes later they hear Echtel crashing back through the underbrush.
"Could you at least attempt to be—" the words die on Tauriel's tongue.
It isn't Echtel.
It's an ambush.
X
Back at the castle, Thranduil is just finishing up for the day. He's signing off on some new trade orders to send to Dale, but rummaging around, he can't seem to locate his seal.
Sighing, and feeling completely exhausted after his lack of sleep the night before, he decides to worry about it in the morning.
X
The first thing Tauriel is aware of when she wakes up is the stiffness in her neck, and the pounding in her head.
Her head is slouched forward uncomfortably, chin resting on her chest, and her head feels as if she spent the whole night in the King's private wine cellar. (Which she's only done once before, and it was completely Legolas' idea.)
She can taste the tang of blood in her mouth, and when she tries to reach up and touch her head, Tauriel realizes her hands are bound.
Slowly she becomes more aware of her body.
She's sitting up, propped against a wooden post, with her hands bound around behind it. Her fingers are starting to tingle from lack of blood flow.
Groaning, she lifts her head, and immediately wishes she were still unconscious.
She's in the camp of the Orc pack they've been looking for.
Eyes scanning quickly, she sees a few dozen Orcs doing work around her, and signs of many more in the area.
As the panic in her chest grows she looks left and right, seeing two posts similar to the one she is bound to, with Grond and Echtel both tied up as well.
Grond is unconscious, and his front is shimmering with blood.
Swallowing back bile, Tauriel prays it isn't his.
On her right, Echtel is awake, his face a blank mask as he takes in their surroundings.
When he catches her looking at him, he bows his head.
"Well, well, look what my friends brought home."
Tauriel twists to see who is talking, because the voice she hears is not that of an Orc.
It's also one she happens to recognize.
When her eyes land on him, Tauriel feels herself go numb, and vaguely wonders why they never thought of this possibility.
"Surprised? You shouldn't be. My banishment would never have been enough. I told you this wasn't over," Erwarth sneers.
Author's Note: Again I would like to remind you that my knowledge comes strictly from the movies, I just wanted to put that out there before I get messages calling me out on the proper courtships of Elves and the unlikelihood of arranged marriages.
Next, I would like to apologize for my lack of reliability when it comes to updating. I could tell you about how busy I am and blah, blah, blah, but the truth is I received a few nasty messages about my writing (about this fic) and despite the fact the positive responses outweigh the negative, it was still a blow to the confidence. After receiving so many wonderful comments, and messages from those of you enjoying the story, I realized it was unfair for me to make you guys wait because of a few rude people. I will try to do better in the future. (I would also like to clarify that constructive criticism is always welcome, but if your intent is only to be rude, please move along, you will get no response from me)
Thank you so very much for sticking with me on this story, and I hope you continue to enjoy it!