Chapter 67

Cherish the Moment

"Glorfindel?" Thranduil repeated in dismay.

The elf in his arms nodded sleepily, her grey eyes fluttered open to look at him once more.

From Erynlith's hazy vision, she could only make out the pale golden hair and blue eyes that looked down at her, perceiving that it was her friend from Rivendell rather than the dismayed Elvenking. Again, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

"I am not Glorfindel," he hissed and abruptly loosed his grip around her, letting the minstrel fall on the hard ground. She let out a pained yelp from the impact, though it was not enough to wake her up to reality. "I am not your Glorfindel," he continued, fists curling up in anger.

She was unsteady on her feet when she rose, gripping the railing of the staircase. Galion had made her drink wine more than was necessary, and her head pounded and swirled and ached. For a moment, she felt something rising up from her innards, prompting her to retch, but the vomit did not come. Her eyes observed Thranduil carefully, wondering why Glorfindel was angry at her. The warrior had never been angry, not even raised his voice against her.

"Silly elf, tra-la," she sang, clutching her head tightly to gain more composure. It felt as if a mace was hammering her brains out. She looked at him again, confused, and continued: "Silly Glorfindel, tra-lo…"

His eyebrows twitched in frustration. "The name is Thranduil. Now that you can stand, come with me and I will take you back to you bedchambers." He pulled on the minstrel's elbow and guided her upstairs, minimizing each step that she took to keep her from falling. It was a miracle that they had reached the topmost stair without problem… until now.

Suddenly, she wavered and grabbed onto Thranduil's maroon sleeve. The King jerked up from the impact, and found himself backed up against the wooden. Erynlith collapsed against his chest, her hands clutching his shoulders tightly. He could feel the minstrel trembling, and his hands made their way to her hips to balance the weight again. Should Greenwood hold another celebration, he would forbid her from drinking wine. And he blamed Galion for all of this.

He felt Erynlith pressing herself against him, her chest brushing lightly against his. He looked down on her incredulously, and his mind panicked on what to do. Drunken elves and close body contact were something he did not anticipate tonight! He could only wait until she was feeling better, or snap out of it, to get herself off of him. Alas, she was not.

Closing his eyes, he relished the feeling of her body pressing against his. He almost felt loved and needed; too bad it was a lie and a figment of his imagination.

"Glorfindel," Erynlith finally said after a few moments. She pressed her face on the crook of his neck, and accidentally inhaled the forest-like scent of the Elvenking. It crossed her mind that Glorfindel never smelled of forest, but put it aside. When she received no answer from the taller elf, her drunkenness made her bolder and pressed herself closer to him, feeling the heat of his body. Then, she began to sob.

"What is it?" he asked worriedly, running his hand gently on her back. Instead of being relieved, the elf in his arms burst into tears, her chest heaving on his. "Eryn, why do you cry? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Hurt…" She muttered between her sobs. "Yes, Glorfindel, I am hurt…"

He winced upon hearing the warrior's name. How it wounded him. "And why are you hurt?"

"Because of Thranduil," came the sobbed answer, tears cascading from the flushed cheeks.

He stiffened. "Thranduil? Why?"

"I am a fool, Glorfindel." She continued to cry, burying her face deeper on the warm neck. Her arms were wrapped around that neck, pulling herself closer to whom she thought was her friend. "Amardís said the King loved me, and I was a fool for believing…"

Thranduil wanted to hush her, to keep her from crying. Yet a part of him wanted to hear what she had to say.

"I loved him for far too long." She choked back another sob. "I shouldn't have waited, Glorfindel. If I knew he already had Celairis, I would have chosen you. It would have been you, Glorfindel." She shook her head and finally looked up, her eyes still seeing the warrior rather than a speechless Elvenking. She reached out to stroke the damp cheek, and Thranduil flinched. Since when did his tears fall?

"It would have been you, Glorfindel," she murmured again as she tiptoed and leaned in.

Thranduil's heart was racing. He was not fool not to know what was happening. Should he push her away? Scold her for ranting at him? Leave her alone in the darkness? Yet he did not such thing. As she leaned closer, he found himself drawn to her like before. He bent his head and received her kiss.

It was tentative at first. He knew he should take not advantage of her. She didn't know what was happening. Damn the wine. He felt Erynlith nipping at his lower lip, lazily and almost sleepily. Blinded with desire, Thranduil pushed forward and deepened the kiss, one hand entangling in her hair, not caring if anyone should find them in the dark. His other hand settled on the small of her back, holding her in place, yet Erynlith was not responding to his kiss anymore. She was drunk and deluded, the same eccentric elf he met years ago. Still no response, he felt rejected and pulled away from the sweet kiss.

Erynlith sighed and rested her head against his shoulder again. Her tears were gone and she was drifting off to sleep. With a shake of his head, Thranduil carried the minstrel off into her bedchambers. He pushed the door open and laid the sleeping elf on the wide bed. Next, he removed the silver floral headpiece, releasing the thick mass of umber hair from its clasp. He removed the shoes and the other unnecessary adornments to keep her from falling peacefully.

Finally, he sat beside the bed, stroking Erynlith's cheek.

"You are unbelievable," Thranduil whispered. The thumping of his heart had subsided. "I can see why Glorfindel keeps you under his watch." Then, as though something bold flared within him, he leaned in to plant another sweet kiss on those equally sweet lips. He looked at her face for a response, yet she was fast asleep.

"Yes," he whispered and leaned in. He kissed her once more, a little longer this time. "I will see you in the morning. I think I am in love with you again."

For some reason, Erynlith woke up in her room. Her head still throbbed from last night's festivities. She remembered how Galion coaxed her into drinking too much wine. The pain was too unbearable that she was determined to scold the butler… later.

Swinging her legs to the side of the bed, she began to fix herself and comb her hair. The hallways were unoccupied that morning, leaving her to wonder where the handmaidens were. Dressed in a light blue dress yet barefooted, she scampered down the halls to grab some breakfast.

"Good morning," King Thranduil greeted her as she entered the grand banquet halls. He seemed to be in a pleasant mood, though the absence the butlers made her wonder.

"Good morning, tra-lay," she sang and sat on the left-hand side of the King, her eyes feasting on the breakfast prepared in front of her. Her mouth watered from all the delicacies laid out, the cakes and cheeses and breads. She began to help herself on the early morning feast, ingesting whatever she could.

"Please, do help yourself." He chuckled as he sipped from his wine.

Looking at him, she almost retched at the sight of the wine. She could feel her head swirling, the war hammer pounding on her brains again. She looked at the wine glass with disgust and returned to her food.

The King began to smirk. "So, Erfaron, do you remember what happened last night?"

She looked up again while in the middle of chewing her blueberry cake. She pondered for a moment, humming a nameless tune as she guessed. Finally, a bulb dinged. "Oh, yes, I remember, tra-la," she chirped quite cheerfully. "There was a lot of singing and dancing…"

"That's right." He nodded in encouragement. "Do you remember what happened afterwards?"

Her brows furrowed. Yet, she complied and tried to remember again. Her head throbbed once more, and she winced at the pain. "I remember…" she drawled as the memories flashed before her: stairs, darkness, crying, and Glorfindel.

Instantly, her cheeks flared up.

"So?" Thranduil crooned; his voice smooth and teasing. His chin was propped under his palm as he leaned his face close to hers. He could see the embarrassed look on Erynlith's face, the way her cheeks reddened, and her biting of her lower lip. "Do you remember anything yet?"

"I— um…" The minstrel fell to the King's trap. She was helpless. Her chest tightened and her breathing became ragged. She could still remember how she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned closer to him. Her cheeks burned even more, and he smirked at the reaction. The tingling sensation of Thranduil's lips against her was coming back all at once.

"Do you remember when you called me Glorfindel yet professed your love to Thranduil?" The wicked Elvenking teased even more.

She finally mustered her courage to look up at him, but her eyes were filled with tears already. "Stop saying that! It's embarrassing!"

Hot tears fell from her flushed cheeks and she bit her lip to fight back a sob.

He flinched and lost the smug look on his face. He did not intend for her to cry! Before he knew it, Erynlith was dashing away from the dining table. He jumped to his feet, spilling his good wine on his dark trousers, but he cared not. He ran after her, cursing the heaviness of his damned outer robe. He followed his target until she stopped at the porch, trying to catch her breath.

"Eryn…" He called out her, panting lightly. Her back was turned to him, yet he could see that she was still crying. He stepped forward and drew himself closer until his chest was brushing against her back. "I… I did not mean that…"

She shook her head violently. "No! You like to make me cry!" Her accusation sounded like that of a child's. "Leave me alone or I will go home to Lórinand right this instant!"

The threat hit home as Thranduil suddenly swung her around to face him. Her back was slammed against the wooden pillar, the King's face dangerously close to her. She bit her lip and clamped her mouth shut, unsure of what to do.

Sensing her fear, Thranduil sighed and withdrew from her, yet his figure was still towering over her so that she could not escape.

"I am sorry," he whispered, wiping the tears away. "It was meant to be a little tease. I really did not want to see you cry. Well, not anymore, especially after what happened last night." He noticed that Erynlith was nodded slowly. He continued: "It was utterly disrespectful for me to take advantage of your drunken state last night, and I must admit, I kissed you again." It was his turn to bite his lip, anticipating for an answer.

"It was my fault," she murmured, not meeting his gaze. "I shouldn't have gotten myself so drunk as well. And about what I told you last night… please ignore that. That was embarrassing and stupid."

He chuckled quietly. "No. In all honesty, I'm glad it happened."

She looked up to him, surprised. After a while of staring at those beautiful blue eyes, she smiled reluctantly. "I'm glad it happened, too."

Thranduil's breath hitched in his throat. Did he hear the words right? Were the two of them confessing their love for each other like teenage elves? It sounded so surreal and overwhelming. He realized that his smile broadened as he stepped to close the gap between them. He cupped her cheeks, his forehead resting against hers.

He would cherish this moment forever.

"Love me again?" he whispered. Yet he feared the reluctant look on her face.

"I… cannot," Erynlith answered in dismay. Thranduil's eyes widened at her refusal. "I m-mean, you have Celairis, do you not? We have more things to worry about, and I still have to return to Lórinand and resolve the current problem." She sighed. "I am tired, Thranduil."

It took a few minutes for the words to sink in. Celairis. How could he have forgotten about his counsellor?

"King Thranduil," a voice interrupted them. Whisking their heads, they saw a guard. At the sight of him, Erynlith felt her innards moving again. But the guard was not in his usual gaming mood today. With a formal bow for the King, he continued, "Someone is here to see you."

Thranduil growled under his breath and snapped. "Who?"

A taller elf behind the guard stepped forward; his mass of golden hair was unmistakable. Thranduil gasped at the newcomer and quickly looked at Erynlith for her reaction. He had forgotten that he lifted the punishment on the warrior, and actually gave consent to let him enter the Halls. He thought it would have been courteous to invite him back, even after what happened, but not it seemed like a big mistake for him.

In an instant, Erynlith sprang into her feet and threw herself into the open arms of her friend.

"Glorfindel!" She was latched on the warrior's neck like a leech. Her smile widened when Glorfindel leaned to kiss her cheek. She was glad to finally have him back, despite him still wearing his tattered tunic and damp trousers, with a dark red bandage around his forearm.

"I hope I am not interrupting something," Glorfindel told the King, scowling at once. Whether the King let him back into the palace or not, his intense dislike for the pale blond-haired elf did not falter.

Thranduil forced an awkward smile. "Nothing of importance."

"Good, because I am here to take Eryn back, as we have agreed."

"Agreed?" The King narrowed his eyes at him, and then gave Erynlith a questioning look.

"Oh, we had an agreement yesterday." She stepped in between them, feeling the ambiance grow even fiercer. She did not want another fight. "If Glorfindel apologized about what happened, we would return to Lórinand."

The King's face darkened with anger. At once Glorfindel was alert.

"I told you before that I have no need for his apology."

"It is only polite to do so," Erynlith argued. She looked up to her friend and nodded to him. "Go on now…"

The Elda went forward, dark blue eyes piercing the other elf, but he bowed low before the King and pressed a hand to his chest. "Please receive my sincerest apologies for the fight the other day, Lord Thranduil. I admit that I am at fault, and that the cause might somehow be unreasonable."

"Yes, you are right. You were at fault, but for the sake of not spoiling the wonderful morning, I pardon you." Thranduil sighed in defeat, but saw the satisfied look on Erynlith's face. He supposed it was truly her intention for the warrior to admit his mistake, and that pleased her. Now it was over, did it mean they would leave now?

"Eryn…" Glorfindel whispered to her anxiously. "Shall we leave now?"

The bright smile on her face vanished. She gave him a saddened look, which the King did not fail to notice, but she nodded. "I promised, didn't I? Let me prepare for a while, and then we'll leave." She went off sullenly.

Silence hung over between Thranduil and Glorfindel. The fighting was over, but the loathing was still there. It was suffocating, uncomfortable, and maddening. No matter how much either of them tried to be polite to the other, it would all come back to glaring and breathing heavily, as though someone would attack the other anytime soon.

At length, it was the King who broke the silence, an attempt to pour oil into the fire.

"I would have you know that she professed her love for me last night," Thranduil told him, smirking triumphantly. His eyes glinted in mischief as the warrior took a sharp inhale, and then moved his head away, pretending not to hear and admiring the beauty of the porch. Thus, he continued, "We shared an embrace and a kiss, though I would advise you not to let it keep you awake at night. Jealousy can undo even the best of warriors."

Glorfindel's vicious gaze went back to him. "Do you honestly think it would undo me? If so, you are too arrogant for a King. I have known several High Kings throughout my life, and believe me, you are the most incompetent yet."

It struck a kingly nerve. "Those you knew were High Kings, but I am King of the Woodland Realm. There is a difference, but of course I would not expect you to understand. You were so occupied sobbing about your nightmares and taking advantage of her comfort."

"You would not understand either," the warrior returned coolly, "because you were too busy not visiting Rivendell."

"Do you think a Captain of Rivendell would intimidate me? Because you have the expertise of a hardened warrior?"

"Not at all, but you expect me to cower outside your gates, because you have a thousand guards at your disposal? I do not often boast about these matters, but believe me, King Thranduil; your guards have seen too few winters to survive even the Nirnaeth."

"Getting up close and personal, aren't we?"

"You started it."

"It doesn't change the fact that Eryn—"

"Kissed you?" Glorfindel laughed scornfully. "You're the one boasting now, my Lord. Even if it was an embrace and a kiss, the competition does not end there."

"Competition?" Thranduil rolled his eyes. "Believe me, there would not be much competition."

As both of them spied Erynlith returning in her travelling shirt, trousers and cloak, the golden-haired warrior simpered. "Watch me."

Erynlith beamed at them. "Are you getting friendly like I asked you?"

"Definitely," Glorfindel confirmed. He snaked an arm around her waist, pulled her against him, and planted a kiss on her temple. Then, he glanced at the glowering King and smirked in triumph. "Shall we leave now?"

"Quite excited, aren't you?" She smiled and then went toward the King. "Thank you for everything, Thranduil, and do forgive us for the trouble the other day… and last night." She bit on her lip again, embarrassed to remember what happened. Her eyes refused to look at him, fearing that he might be smiling and teasing her again. "I know we talked about some things, but do understand that Lórinand has need for me, too."

"I was afraid it would come to this—but oh well." Thranduil cupped her cheek with one hand. "I would follow you in Lórinand, once I get everything settled here. I promise you."

Her heart began to race when his face leaned so close to hers. She was aware what was happening, what he was attempting to do, and that Glorfindel was there, watching them. She hurriedly turned away, blinded with so much bashfulness that her cheeks were hot and her heart was pounding.

Thranduil only laughed. "Too soon, I know. But we'll get there, won't we?"

"Y-Yes… I suppose…"

"I have a gift waiting for you outside."

She smiled broadly. "Really?"

"Come, Eryn. It gets late." Glorfindel took her hand and dragged her away from the porch, but not before sparing one last glare at the smirking Elvenking. He slung her pack over his shoulder, guiding her across the stone bridges and passing by the armoured guards that he easily subdued the other day. Some of the attendants, among them Amardís, watched them leave without so much of a farewell.

When they reached the main gates, the four guards begrudgingly opened the gates and let them pass.

One horse was waiting outside, attended by a guard. It was a tall, black stallion with large head and heavy footfalls. It whickered and attempted to dash away, hurling the guard off his balance until Glorfindel snatched the rein and pulled it back. The stallion persisted, hot-blooded and so energetic, protesting against the warrior's grasp.

The guard stood aside, and said, "King Thranduil's gift, Lady Erfaron. I hope you find it well."

Erynlith touched the stallion's muzzle, which seemed to calm it. "Gift?"

"He wants you to take it, for faster and safer travel through the woods," the guard said.

Finally, some good use for him. Glorfindel was pleased that the guard was already sprinting back to the Halls. He urged the horse closer until it stood between him and Erynlith. His already sour mood turned worse when the King thought of giving her a horse. Why didn't I think of that before? I could have given her a sword or a dagger, she likes them, too. But a horse?

She sensed that he was still not in the mood to make jests. "Glorfindel, are you angry with me? Did I say something wrong?"

He avoided her eyes and sighed. "It's not you, Eryn."

Blinking, she looked back towards the closed gates. "Is it Thranduil? Did he do something?"

"You really have no idea, have you?" He sighed, shooting her an almost annoyed look.

She pouted, noticing that he was getting impatient with her cluelessness. "…Idea about what exactly?"

He rounded towards her, his face so close to hers that their noses were brushing. Bending near her ear, he whispered in a low voice, "If I kiss you now, what would your reaction be?"

"What?" She drew away to stare at his gentle eyes. She was still lost. "But you do it all the time, right?"

"N-No." He combed his fingers through his tresses, a little nervous now. He had never been so high-strung around her, even when faced with this kind of topic. "I mean… what if I kiss you… on the lips?"

Gasping, Erynlith stepped away and covered her mouth. "B-But Erestor said you could only kiss someone on the lips when you passionately love someone!" She thought of what happened last night in the darkness, when she was drunk and bold and had bravely kissed the Elvenking. Did it count as passionate love? Or was it only the influence of the wine?

"You know what?" Glorfindel immediately laughed it off. "Let's forget that we've ever had this awkward conversation. Let's just go home."

"Yes." She nodded, climbing the stallion and sitting in front of him. She held the reins, while he put an arm around her waist and the other on the rear of the horse, supporting his weight. "You do sound awkward this morning, Glorfindel. Must be the hunger…"

Again he laughed. He was feeling better now, as though the confrontation with the Elvenking never happened.

Next Chapter: It's time for Thranduil to make up his mind and come into a conclusion. How would Celairis handle it?

Author's Notes: Happy New Year, everyone! For everyone who has been with me through the ups and downs (and the lateness of the updates) in this story, I sincerely thank all of you! I do enjoy writing and researching as much as the next person does, but real life has its ways to come in between. Though I would be busy with school projects, I would try my best to update more than I did last year.

Also, it's going for real: Glorfindel versus Thranduil!

As always, your feedbacks are always appreciated. I really missed being in this fandom. T_T