Chapter 59

Wildest Dream

"Welcome to the Forest, penneth."

Erynlith fluttered her eyes open, searching for the marchwarden. In her dreams, she was back in the forest with its blue-throated nightingales and rivers. The silver-haired marchwarden was waiting for her, as he kept himself occupied by playing a harp. His white bow was near his feet, with a green pennant fastened on the lower limb.

She felt the heat radiating inside her room. She sat up and saw the familiar bedside table, wardrobe and round window on her left. Across the room, Glorfindel moved into the sunlight and sat on the edge of her bed. He touched her cheek and kissed her forehead, and then her hand.

"Good morning," he said.

Her eyes blinked to adjust from the blinding light. "Good morning," she murmured.

"Feeling better?" He reached out for the table and took a hairbrush. He began brushing the umber hair and softly untangled the knots.

"No." She hugged her knees and buried her head on her arms, and began to sob.

Glorfindel's heart ached to see her weeping so. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down to the bed with him, shifting her carefully so that Erynlith was on top, and her damp cheeks pressed against his chest. His hand stroked her hair soothingly.

"It's all right to cry, Eryn. You can cry, but please do not give up."

She sniffled and wiped her tears. "I am not supposed to drag you into my grief."

"No." He sat up, as Erynlith slid down to straddle his lap. He stared long at her face; her grey eyes were teary and red, her hair thick and cascading down to her hips. The sunlight was illuminating her sad face in a soft, golden glow. He felt intoxicatingly drawn to her.

Staring at her full lips, Glorfindel began to lean in. Erynlith's breath hitched in her throat, and she closed her eyes and pulled away from him, her fists curling tightly on the warrior's broad shoulders. Glorfindel blinked and immediately pulled away. Only then did Erynlith breathe again.

He cleared his throat. "Well this is awkward."

She burst out laughing. "Not quite."

"Aha! Now there's my guiding light!" He beamed and grinned childishly at her.

Then she smiled and cupped his cheek. "I thank you for everything you're doing for me, Glorfindel." She leaned in to kiss his forehead.

"Are you ready to get up?" His hands settled lightly on her hips, indicating that she was still straddling him.

"Uh-huh." She yawned and tried to process what was happening. She tried to push the memory of Amroth's passing to the farthest part of her mind, and tried to focus on what happened last night. Something important happened, but she could not remember exactly what. Then, there was something in the back of her mind that showed a tall figure with blue eyes and soft hands that touched her face.

"Hungry?" Between Glorfindel's lips was a blue ribbon, while his hands deftly worked in braiding her hair.

"Definitely." Smiling, she leaned closer to him and whispered. "I had a strange dream last night."

Glorfindel smiled back and took the ribbon from his lips, now tying it around her braided hair. "What dream?"

"Very strange, really. I saw a marchwarden in the forest, and he seems to be familiar with me. I do not know him, but he has my bow and pennant with him." She looked into his eyes and knew he was thinking about something else. "Other than the silver-haired warden, I saw someone else in my dreams."

He dropped his hands to his lap and admired the half-up hairstyle. "Who else did you dream of?"

She brushed a lock away from her face, and leaned closer to whisper in his ear. Her voice remained low. "Thranduil."

"The King?" Glorfindel's brows furrowed, his dark blue eyes flashing in disapproval.

"Yes, him." Erynlith raked her fingers through his long golden tresses, and smiled sadly. "But it is only a dream. I have more things to think about, not him. I feel so conflicted, Glorfindel. I was only trying to help Amroth and now—" She bit her lip. "And now everything becomes so difficult. I don't want to rule Lórinand. I just want to go back home to Rivendell. Please take me home."

"Oh, Eryn." He watched helplessly as his friend curled up and hugged her knees again. He scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "I promise that everything will turn out just fine. I'll be here to help. I may not know how exactly to rule a forest, but I have known five High Kings throughout my long life. At least I could be of help, one way or another."

She lifted her face and frowned. "Will you really stay here and help me?"

"You know I would." Glorfindel smiled and kissed her cheek. "Now then, breakfast?"

"Let's go then."

Clutching her skirt, Erynlith plodded down the staircase with Glorfindel at her heels. He caught her hand and she let out a shriek, breathless in her laughter. He lifted and spun her around, and then settled her back on her feet. They crossed the courtyard and went towards the banquet halls located in another golden tree, above the flet.

"You know, one of the High Kings I knew often told me that a good ruler should not start a day with an empty stomach." Glorfindel tugged at her hand and led her up to the platform, where various attendants were already waiting for them.

Upon seeing the golden-haired warrior and the minstrel in her white dress, the attendants stopped preparing the table, lined up and bowed. "Good morning, Your Ladyship," all said formally to Erynlith.

She shifted uncomfortably and looked at her friend, who nodded to her. "Ah, um, good morning, everyone."

"What you would like to have your breakfast, my Lady?"

"Something light, I suppose." Erynlith was guided to take the seat at the head of the long table—Amroth's usual place. More and more attendants streamed in and laid out delicious foods in front of her. When everything was done, she noticed her friend still standing by the entrance. "Glorfindel, what are you doing all the way there? Come and sit with me," she said, patting the chair next to her.

Glorfindel shook his head. "I am not supposed to intrude on the Queen's breakfast."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Sit beside me now or you'll eat with a broken arm."

"Fine, fine." He chuckled and held up his hands in surrender. Once he was already seated, the attendants moved to bring the meal in front of him, consisting of a hot soup and a plate of honey-cake and some lembas. He observed the alertness of the Nandorin elves and whispered to Erynlith, "You have to get used to being pampered."

"I don't think I will ever get used to it."

Up in the flet provided by Orophin to the King of Greenwood, Thranduil and Raithon were spending the early morning contemplating on their next plan. The dark-haired Sindarin captain was flopped on the King's large bed, using his dagger to slice thin parts of the apple and eating them. On the other hand, the blond elf was pacing back and forth, nibbling on his nail and muttering incoherent words under his breath.

"You know..." Raithon began, waving his dagger around, "nothing will happen if you keep on pacing here and there. You are only making me dizzy, and I hope you're getting dizzy, too."

Thranduil rounded towards him, glaring. "I just don't know what else to do! It seems she has forgotten about me!"

"Well, she must be resting right now. Give her a break. King Amroth drowned and Lady Nimrodel lost, and now, all the elves in Lórinand have come to acknowledge her as the new ruler of the forest. Everything fell upon her shoulders all of a sudden. If you bother her now and present yourself like the arrogant elf that you are, she's not going to appreciate it. You'll just set her mood off like you always did before."

"Shut it." Thranduil rolled his eyes and crossed the room. He scoured through the few formal robes and trousers that he brought. He groaned. "I can't believe I only have few options on how to dress for today."

Raithon laughed. "Well, don't blame me. I am not the one who bolted out of the room and demanded that we go to Lórinand as soon as possible. I didn't get to say goodbye to Santien properly."

"What am I going to wear now? I cannot appear to her looking like this!" He gestured at his white undershirt and black breeches. His pale golden hair was still in tangles from his uneasy sleep last night.

"You are not going to impress her through your dashing good looks, are you?" the captain teased, slicing a portion of his apple and eating it. He waved the dagger again. "You are not going to win her back that way."

"I am not trying to win her back!" Thranduil snapped and dropped his voice. "Not yet, at least. I just don't want to fade into the background like last night. I am a King; I should be treated as such. I am the King and I will not let some reborn elf from the West who cannot event handle his petty nightmares outshine me."

"You may be an Elvenking, but Erfaron is the Queen here now. Everyone's priority is her well-being and carrying out her commands. You and I are just visitors from a neighbouring forest. We are last in her concerns."

Thranduil pouted. "What do you suggest I should do?"

"Be gentle with her," Raithon answered. "Keep your temper off the bay and speak pleasantly to her. Remember that she remains dazed and uncertain after everything that happened, so make sure to keep your calm and don't call out on her mistakes."

"Since when did you become an expert?" Thranduil smirked at his friend.

"I am not an expert. It just so happens that you are hopeless in these kinds of things. No wonder you cannot get that many ladies before."

"Fine. You're the expert, I'm the novice. What else can I learn from your wisdom?"

Raithon laughed again. "Well, just don't ever raise your voice at her. Keep in mind that Lord Glorfindel is always around and he will not take it kindly if you mistreat her. He will not hesitate to whittle you down, that's for sure. Watch out for the marchwardens, too. They are very protective of her."

"Since when did you become so familiar with the wardens here?"

"Oh, come on, Thranduil." Raithon scoffed, a little haughtily. "I do not even have to strain my eyes to see. Have you seen the looks on those wardens had when we first arrived? Obviously, if they had mistaken us for foreigners, they would have shot us dead in the dark. No questions asked. That's how strict and anxious they are now; without proper orders, the chain of command would be broken. With Erfaron the only one left to rule, and we both know how children revere their childhood hero, they would do anything she says—except she doesn't give orders." He grinned.

"Great, I am the King and I should worry about that stupid warrior and some young marchwardens."

"Stop thinking that you are King, Thranduil. It will not work here. This is not Greenwood, remember? Basically, you have no power here and no one would think twice about your concerns, unless Erfaron commands it."

"We haven't even been invited to breakfast yet. Does she even know we are here?"

"Maybe." Raithon shrugged. "Perhaps you should prepare yourself now and we can go to the banquet halls."

"I bet that warrior's there with her," Thranduil grumbled.

"What, you're jealous now?"

"I never said I was!" A robe flew across the room and hit Raithon on the face. Then Thranduil turned back to stare at his reflection in the mirror as he combed his fingers through his hair. "Truth be told I cannot see anything so special about him. So what if he was reborn?"

Raithon sat up from the bed, waving the dagger flippantly. "Were you not paying attention about the reports? He was allowed to be re-embodied and return to Middle-earth because of his great deeds that saved Gondolin and its people. If it was not for him, Lord Elrond would not even be with us. History would be different. You should not speak so ill of him since you barely know him. In fact, you do not know what it is like to burn."

"Do I not?!" Thranduil rasped, one hand caressing his left cheek. Once upon a time it had been burned by dragon-fire, a horrendous burn that was saved only because of Elrond's expertise, and years of healing.

"Forgive me," Raithon muttered under his breath. "I did not wish to offend you."

An hour later, when the two Sindarin elves arrived in the banquet halls, there were no signs of Erynlith. The long table was empty and the halls itself was almost deserted, except for the single attendant who stayed to clear the last bits on the floor. She bowed to the newcomers but said nothing, as though she was not inclined to serve the King of Greenwood and his Captain of the Guards. She was about to leave through the staircase when the blond elf rounded towards her, scowling.

"Where is she? The Lady, I mean."

"She has gone down to the river with Lord Glorfindel," the attendant timidly answered. She bowed and left, cradling her materials with her.

Raithon saw the glower on his friend's face. "I warned you Lord Glorfindel doesn't take his eyes off her."

"Yes, Raithon, I am aware of that." Thranduil inhaled sharply. What now?

They stayed up there for quite some time, until the sullen King finally thought of something. He smoothed his blue-grey silk robe and adjusted the collar, and then grabbed his captain by the shoulder and raced down the staircase. Thranduil led them around the forest, wandering without certainty which river the attendant was referring to; Lórinand had two intersecting rivers coursing through the middle, while the Great River, Anduin, was located south.

When they found one of the scouts, Raithon asked him.

"Oh, Erfaron—ah, Her Ladyship," Rúmil corrected himself, as he remembered that he and his brothers (or any of the marchwardens for that matter) were not allowed to call her Erfaron any longer. He pointed towards the direction of Nimrodel's previous house. "She and Lord Glorfindel are in the river."

"Thank you." With that, the two Sindarin elves dashed off.

Upon reaching the rivershore, Thranduil and Raithon paused. Not too far away from them were Erynlith and Glorfindel, sitting underneath a large tree. The warrior was sitting in front of the minstrel, who was playing around with the golden hair and seemingly trying to braid it. Something must have been said because the minstrel laughed and pushed the warrior's shoulder, who, in his turn, laughed louder. Thranduil felt the same feeling of rejection and frustration from last night, unconsciously curling his fist.

"Go ahead and talk to her," Raithon whispered in his ear and winked. "I'll handle Lord Glorfindel."

"What?"

"Just get in there." The captain pushed him towards them. "And go get her."

Thranduil meandered towards them, his mind racking what to tell her and what to do if ever the golden elf came in between them. His hands were cold again, his heart caught in his throat; and when he tried to swallow, it only left him breathless. He stopped a few steps beside the tree, and cleared his throat.

It was Glorfindel who reacted first. At once the warrior was on his feet, whose large build covered the minstrel on the grassy floor. He walked towards the King, and Thranduil did not like the fact that—other than the warrior's broader shoulder and thicker arms—Glorfindel stood a few inches taller than him.

"My Lord," Glorfindel addressed him.

Thranduil ignored him. He passed through the warrior, brushing him off quite arrogantly, and stepped into the view where Erynlith could see him from head to toe. He did not smile at her; only kept his face nonchalant and his voice neutral.

"Eryn," he whispered.

Erynlith stood unsteadily, and found balance when her hand rested on the tree trunk. Her eyes stung as hot tears threatened to fall. She looked at Glorfindel and then to Thranduil, looking confused and utterly lost. Was her mind playing tricks again? Her breathing became laboured and her heart felt like bursting out. When the imposing King walked to her, it felt as though she could not breathe anymore. She only stood there, frozen in disbelief.

As the King reached out for her face, she turned her heels and ran away.

"Eryn!" Thranduil called after her but felt a strong grip on his wrist. He saw Glorfindel and scowled. "Let go," he snarled.

"She is not in the condition to meet you," Glorfindel said as politely as he could, though he wanted to run off and chase after her.

"You have no right to stop me!" Thranduil snapped, removed the hand on his wrist and sprinted into the other direction.

Raithon immediately went in and placed his arm around the warrior's shoulders. "Lord Glorfindel, I think it would be wise to let them be for a while."

Glorfindel hesitated. His eyes followed where Erynlith and Thranduil disappeared to, and felt the urge to run after them. However, Raithon was already leading him away from the scene and Glorfindel knew he had to step back this time.

By the time Erynlith stopped running, she was back in the field behind the palace, where she had cried last night. She bent over to catch her breath, and was suddenly aware that someone followed her there. She dared not to look over her shoulder and see his face; instead, she rubbed her eyes again and again, refusing to admit that her tears were coming out.

"Eryn," Thranduil panted. "Please don't run away from me again."

She flinched at his soft voice. She could not remember the last time she heard him talk to her.

"Why did you run away? Don't you want to see me?"

She buried her face in her hands and shook her head.

"I came here to see you. Eryn, look at me."

Thranduil turned her around and saw that she was crying again. He felt conflicted and did not know what to do. What did normal elves do if maidens cried in front of them? Celairis never cried to him; Santien never cried before (perhaps she was incapable of crying, he thought); and he had never comforted a maiden while she cried. He cursed himself and felt utterly helpless; he wished Raithon was there to tell him what to do.

"Dream," Erynlith told him, backing away a little. "You're just a dream."

"No." It came immediately from his mouth. "No, I am not a dream, Eryn. I am here now; I am here for you... Do you remember me?"

She bowed her head, ashamed to be seen in such a state. "You are not supposed to be here," she muttered.

It had almost been two thousand years, yet it still hurt when she refused him. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "We need to talk."

She sniffled but did not move from her spot.

His voice became softer. "You need to look at me."

Erynlith looked at him straight in the eyes. His collected presence was suffocating her. Anger coursed through her veins; she wanted to scream, to pound him, to rant on how she waited years for them to be together again. She felt her heart beating frantically in her chest, threatening to fall and break on the ground; and she imagined herself kneeling and gathering what pieces of her heart she could still save from the overwhelming pain. Tears welled up and fell for the umpteenth time since their reunion.

"Do you remember me?" Thranduil placed his hand on her cheek, and felt that she flinched at his touch. He was pleased that she did not back away from him.

The close proximity was intoxicating to her, but what surprised her more was the fact that she did not draw herself away from him. Instead, she felt more drawn to him, as though all those years of waiting were nothing. It seemed her anger and disappointment in him was gone in a flash; all her negative feelings towards him seemed to turn into something more positive, now that he was here.

She kept her eyes focused on his jaw line, her hands uncomfortably hanging on her sides, and her breath hitching in her throat. When Thranduil moved closer to whisper something in her ear, she closed her eyes tightly, suddenly afraid. She could feel his warm breath on her skin.

"Eryn, do you remember who I am?" His whisper sent shivers down her spine.

Still afraid, she bit her lower lip and nodded.

"Look at me." He raked his fingers through her umber hair and saw the blue ribbon fastened around it. He leaned back to look at her face. "If you remember, who am I?"

Her grey eyes finally opened and looked at him for a few seconds, as though she was discerning who he was. At length, she smiled.

"I remember. You are Thranduil."

Her voice whispering his name had always been music to his ears.

Next Chapter: Restart of Eryn/Thrandy romance? But what about Glorfindel?

Author's Notes: *sports commentator voice* What team?! Thranduil or Glorfindel? Based from the previous and this chapter, the score now is 1-1. It seems Thranduil gets bonus points in this round for running after her, while Glorfindel remains behind. Wrong move, Glorfindel, wrong move I tell you! Now Thranduil gets the spotlight all to himself. You go, King of Greenwood!

Sorry if I wasn't able to update as soon as possible. It's exam week and I have tests and papers to work on.

Another sorry because I won't be able to reply to everyone's messages like I always do. My time is really limited so I hope you guys understand. But! I'll just make special mentions of those who brightened my whole week last time: Overlord Rousdower, Am4444, melodicechoes, Lovitall, only-one-mirkwood-princess, Guest, StarofSea, Lord Illyren, SarahWeasley, Carastein, Saura9, May, Gremalor, Elentar, Lady of Mirkwood, Stella, Omorfi Enas, and Senshi at Heart.

*SparklesJustReads, I think the concept of Thranduil with girls girls girls around him started from The Hobbit films. That sounds fine, I guess, but I really cannot imagine our beloved Elvenking with so many girls. LOL. Besides, that's a LOT of character development in a fic. It's okay to give Thranduil a run for his money—he's a King so he has enough to spare. XD

Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I appreciate everyone for taking their time to review! Although I am aware that someone expressed disappointment about the reunion, that's okay! I hope this one makes up for it. Enjoy the return of Thranduil in the game, because he's going to play by his rules from now on!