Chapter 41

Special Assignment

Thranduil was irritated beyond all reasons. Returning to Greenwood from Lórinand, he found out that the servants in the kitchen had an accident. As King, he would have allowed it to pass; but no, he did not this time. Barrels of his wine were shattered and the precious red liquor drenched the kitchen floor. One could tell that too much wine was spilled that night that it was already dried when the Elvenking arrived. No words could have described his fury, but he kept silent, glaring instead at the clumsiness of his kitchen servants. He huffed as he turned his heels and left the grandeur kitchen of his underground palace, none too pleased that he had to wait for another season for the making of wine. The harvest season for the wine had already passed, and winter was coming. After Aduial en Meleth, winter always followed, and surely, Yule would come.

Yule, Thranduil gritted his teeth as he strode the long and winding passageways of his palace. Sometimes he regretted for having those corridors too long. He did not like winter at all, for he believed that it made his forest too cold and barren. Some of the Silvan shared this ideal; his influence as King was great among his people.

He forced himself to think of more important matters. Raithon had been asking permission to scout the whole of Greenwood, which would take him months to return. He said he wanted to see the overall management of the forest, and even mocked that it was Thranduil's duty as King. Santien herself was busy; the population of the Silvan had prospered for the last thousand years. Many of the young girls wanted to become a healer just like her, while boys ran around, following Raithon and the Elven-guard.

And then, there was Celairis. Thranduil had been worried. Following the incident in Lórinand, she seemed to distance herself from him, taking her time and burying herself with Chief Counselor duties that Thranduil found ridiculous. For the past days, she was cold and quiet, earning an inquiring look from the King. Whatever it was, he would coax it out of her.

Celairis was reluctant. There she was, standing in front of the grand double doors. She knew well that on the other side lay the Elvenking's chambers. Her hand reached out for one golden knob, hesitating to turn it. She was aware of her position as the King's counselor, but she was the Chief Counselor. Did that mean she had the right to enter the King's room without his permission? But she also knew that she was more than that; Thranduil's motives were clear to her. An Elvenking would not simply give gifts to his counselors, or share dinners with them, or even a kiss on the brow. No, she was more than just a counselor.

Thus, gathering her courage, she entered.

The room was spacious and elegant; silky green curtains hung about the windows and were slightly swaying with the early winter breeze. A king-sized bed was in the middle, blankets and pillows positioned neatly on top. The wardrobe stood on the right side of the room and a small round bedside table as well. But admiring the room was not her intention.

She approached the desk of the Elvenking, his favorite wooden desk where he was always hunched when drawing. Papers were piled neatly on the corner, a quill and ink ready to be used. There was a small bookshelf beside it containing all the books and sketches that the King drew in his lifetime.

Hesitantly, Celairis took out one book and flipped its pages, preparing herself to see what was there.

"I loathe underhanded people," a deep voice sounded behind her.

Celairis jumped and dropped the sketchbook, a dried branch and leaves falling from between the pages. Thranduil narrowed his eyes as the keepsake fell and watched intently as his dark beauty picked it up. Her hands were shaking from being found out too early, but her bright blue eyes held his gaze. She was strong and proud for words, and too intelligent for her own right. But those were the reason why she caught the Elvenking's attention, and the very reason she was in his room.

"Permission to speak, my Lord," Celairis said, still looking directly at him.

Thranduil nodded. "Granted."

"May you tell me what this is?" She flipped one page from the sketchbook and the rough sketch showed a crown of flowers.

It made the King catch his breath. "A crown of bluebells," he answered nonchalantly. "They were given to me."

"And this?" Celairis showed another sketch of two white daggers. Its edges were engraved with elvish runes.

This time, he did not answer. He knew where the conversation was leading, and he did not like it. His counselor continued to show him his sketches, her voice coming in broken syllables. From the first page to the last, it showed countless sketches of a meadow of bluebells, a family of foxes, the waterfalls, the southern fortress of the previous Elvenking, a foliage of green leaves, and a small triangular pennant—all were too painfully familiar to him. When the sketchbook was finished, Celairis held up the dried branch in her hands, looking directly again at her King.

"I was wrong to assume that I could take her place," she said honestly.

Thranduil was silent. His eyes were looking at her sternly and almost indifferently.

"Erynlith, wasn't it?" She continued, fighting back tears. The name sounded like it came from legends. It had been centuries since Celairis saw her, the eccentric minstrel who caught the Elvenking's eyes. The Silvan folk continued to call her Erfaron, although only those who remembered her name were Santien, Raithon, and few of the elf guards.

"That was a long time ago," the King finally said. His voice was soft and reassuring for his counselor. He did not wish to see her cry, especially if it was his doing.

Thranduil walked up to her and took the dried branch from her hands. He pulled her into his embrace, his chin resting on the crown of her dark head. He planted a quick kiss on her hair and his hands soothed her back. She began to cry, leaning against him. He kept silent, listening to her sobs beneath him. But his eyes were darted on the branch that lay now on his desk, remembering well how he acquired it.

It was a get-well-soon gift from someone else. He remembered well how they fought off two wargs at the same time, working as a team to gain victory. He remembered well how she knelt in front of him, her face laced with worry. His hands were wrapped in bandages following that, and she always visited him in the infirmary. The branch back then was filled with rich green leaves; in the midst of winter, they grew in the forest, and she thought they were lovely.

"Thranduil."

"Yes?" He answered, taking his eyes off the thing.

"Do you still want to be with her?"

He took her flushed face between his hands and gazed at her eyes. "No, I do not. I have you now. Let us forget this silly incident. She lives in Rivendell now, and most likely has pledged herself to someone else. Let us move on." Then, he kissed her forehead, and Thranduil smiled when she smiled.

At this time in the night, he did not expect the infirmary to be occupied.

After talking it over with his Chief Counselor, the Elvenking bade her goodnight and locked himself in his chambers for a few moments. Then, changing his coat to a simple tunic and jerkin, he trudged down the staircase and headed straight to the infirmary.

The lights were on when he arrived, prompting him to stop in wonder. It was midnight, and a strong blizzard was raging outside. The streams that flowed underneath the palace were frozen stiff, and the hearths needed to be attended every once in a while.

Crossing his arms over his chest and shivering for a brief moment, Thranduil waited. He leaned against the wall, the lamp flickering just above his head, as he continued eyeing the door of the infirmary. Then, it opened. Raithon emerged, and then Santien. None of them seemed no notice the King's presence. Thranduil watched in amusement as his Captain of the Guards brought his finger to the healer's chin, whispered something in her ear. Santien let out a little gasp and lightly punched him on the chest. Raithon laughed softly and kissed her on the forehead, and then waved his hand when Santien finally closed the door.

As he was heading to the foot of the staircase, only then did Raithon notice the King.

"Ah, Thranduil, what are you doing here?" The dark-haired Captain rubbed his cold hands against the sleeves of his green tunic, and shook his head. "Winter seems more terrible than last year."

"Tell me about it." Thranduil pushed himself off the wall and approached his friend. "I am surprised Santien's staying in the infirmary. Did someone get hurt?"

"Hm?" Raithon blinked, glancing back at the door of the infirmary. He shrugged. "Oh, not that. Haldamir's wife is in labor. Santien believes she would give birth sometime soon, perchance tomorrow."

The King's eyes glinted in excitement. Grimacing, he took a step closer. "So soon? Is it a boy?"

Raithon laughed a little. The gender of the child had been the discussion of the counselors in the council chambers whenever the King was not present. Some of the guards in the outpost, the kitchen servants, and the attendants were murmuring behind their hands, quietly excited for Haldamir and his wife. If betting was proper, Raithon would have betted that the child would be a girl.

"No one knows for sure," the Captain answered. "Haldamir wants it to be a girl, and so do Santien and the other counselors."

For some reason, Thranduil felt extremely lighthearted now. His irritated mood seemed to have vanished upon hearing the news. It had been a while since he saw another elfling in his forest, an enthusiastic child running around within his palace. He felt happiness for Haldamir and his wife, though a part of him also seemed to be missing quite something else.

"Gender does not matter," the King said. "As long as the child is healthy. I would like my child to be healthy as well."

Raithon smirked. "Better get yourself a lady first, before anything else."

Thranduil glared. "Damn it. You always spoil the mood. But enough of this matters." He waved his hand flippantly, while the other held out something for the Captain. "I have a special assignment for you."

"What is this?"

"I want you to go to Rivendell, to send my regards to Elrond and Celebrían. You would also deliver some presents for their children—Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Galion would help you prepare for the travel, and for anything else. And this," Thranduil whispered, offering the sealed parcel to his friend, "Erfaron must have it. You must promise me she would receive this."

The Captain of the Guards was holding his breath as he accepted. It was thick and heavy, almost like a hardbound book, and sealed in a brown paper. A green wax shaped as a leaf was in the middle. He took a deep breath as he looked at the eyes of his friend, his King. All Raithon saw was sincerity.

"I promise."

Author's Notes: I know I promised in the last chapter that I would only be gone for two weeks at most, and voilà! I was gone for the whole month! I am really sorry for the late update. I am currently in Menorca, and the internet connection is terrible. I could not tell when I could update again. Also, I apologize for the short chapter. Hopefully, the next one would be long and would focus back on Eryn and Glorfindel. For now, let us enjoy Thranduil and Celairis, and some Raithon as well!

Though I do not have much time to thank everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter (because internet here is really crappy), I would like to give special mention to the guest who gave constructive criticism. You have a lot of good points! It was indeed Erynlith's fault for leaving Thranduil, but none of the characters acknowledge this. Erynlith should have been there when Thranduil was suffering, yet it was Celairis who stayed with him. She deserves to be treated well, at least; or give her some credit. After the timeskip, I am not even sure what should be the status of Eryn and Thranduil's relationship. I think, at this point in the story, there are no romantic feelings whatsoever. I also think the right feeling here is that they both miss each other badly, not in a romantic sense.

Aaaand the rant stops here! Anyone could come up with what they think would happen next! Thank you everyone who has waited patiently for this chapter! I would try my best to get another chapter done (and updated) in the next few days or so.

Thank you very much! And reviews are always welcome! ( ~˘ ³˘)~