Galion was obviously anxious as he met Elluin and her drenched party at the entrance to the kitchens where they were to unload their burdens from the three heavily laden mules.
"I will take over here," he told the group in a rushed but authoritative voice, before Elluin could begin giving instructions. "The king commands your presence, my lady," he told her, quietly but urgently.
Elluin glanced down at herself, one hand wiping back her dripping hair. She had not thought to bring anything to cover the mules and their burdens in case of rain, and was obliged to sacrifice her own cloak for the purpose. It meant she was thoroughly soaked through. Her simple linen underdress was clinging to her, though the short leather tunic and generous skirts of her Silvan-style outfit ensured modesty. It would all need to be discarded, though, as small, blackened holes dotted each garment, the result of embers floating around her in her flight to safety with the other foragers. Fortunately, the heavy rain that followed had washed away the soot, but mud now thoroughly caked her high leather boots and the bottom portion of her skirts.
"Do not make him wait," Galion said in a nervous tone that made Elluin's eyes widened in alarm.
"Yes, my lord." She made due with the towel she grabbed from beside the fireplace, wringing out her hair and wiping off as much mud from her skirts and boots as she could as she made her way swiftly through the passageways. The darkness of the cool night did not slow her feet, so many times had she traveled the same way up the stairs to the royal chambers.
She did not know what she would find, but based on Galion's expression, she knew the king was furious. Remorse flooded her. She should have consulted the elders before leaving. They certainly would have suspected the heavy rains that now flowed over the Greenwood. Was the king disappointed in her lack of preparation?
Despite the late hour, Sulros stood at his post before the door of the king's chambers. The concern in his eyes confirmed Thranduil's bad mood. He nodded a wordless greeting to Elluin and accepted her dirty towel.
Elluin dared not hesitate. She knocked before quietly opening the door and stepping inside.
She was somewhat taken aback at seeing the king dressed so informally — barefoot, with only a shirt and breeches. Thranduil had his back to her and had been pouring wine into a goblet but he stopped to look around when he heard her enter. His face was tense as he studied her and he remained motionless while she curtsied deeply, her hands slightly lifting the drenched cloth of her skirts as she did so.
Silence reigned in the room and Elluin dared not move or speak for fear of the king's ire. She kept her gaze firmly on the ground. The ominous quiet reminded her of the anticipation before the lightning strike that had caused so much damage earlier that day.
Through the silence, she heard Thranduil release a relieved breath. Suddenly, he swept over to her, enveloping her in his arms, nearly hiding her in the loose folds of his shirt. Elluin stood frozen for a moment in shock before the warmth and comforting scent of him broke through to her thoughts. Was he not angry? She timidly raised her own arms to return the embrace, allowing her joy at being with him again to seep through her, much like the rainwater from her clothes was seeping into his.
The new sensation of her touch caused Thranduil to blink his eyes open and realize what instinct had driven him to do.
"Elluin, forgive me," he rushed to say, releasing her and taking a long, decisive step back. "I had not meant to force myself on you in this manner." He internally reprimanded himself once more on his seeming inability to control himself around her. He avoided her gaze in his embarrassment. "I am just glad you have returned safely after the fire," he explained quietly.
Elluin let the moment settle in her mind before searching his face. "Sire, friends may embrace thus." She forced down a blush as she continued with some hesitation, "Regardless, I welcome anything that comes from you. And I would deny the king nothing of myself."
Thranduil stared at her as he registered the implication of her statement, his cheeks coloring slightly. After a moment, he cleared his throat.
"Nevertheless," he insisted, "I would ask your permission instead of taking liberties with your person."
Elluin met his eyes steadily. Now it was Thranduil who was uncertain, while the elleth stood before him in tranquil confidence. Her words were soft. "You have my permission, sire."
Thranduil's heart twinged. While he cherished her willingness to serve him in all ways, what he now marveled at most was that she trusted him to act with the love and wisdom with which she had seen him rule. Elluin knew of his doubts; he had revealed them to her unintentionally when she came into his room as a chambermaid, as plainly as he had seen them himself, reflected in his father's mirror that day. And still, she believed that he could overcome the darkness lingering in his own spirit, make the right decisions for the kingdom, retain the love and respect of his people, and be a friend to her.
He needed to tell her what he had realized while they were apart. Elluin's glittering eyes were still boldly but carefully watching him – this was the perfect opportunity to do so. But would she believe his words, coming so soon after she had escaped from danger?
Friends may embrace thus, she had said. Thranduil took it as a sign. His revelation could wait. He resolved to be, for now, what she believed he could be to her: a friend.
His decision made, Thranduil stepped toward Elluin and held his arms open in invitation. He smiled at the happiness and adoration he saw in her eyes before she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him, neither heeding her wet garments. Molding herself against him, she rested her head on his shoulder. She sighed quietly as she felt the warmth and gentle pressure of his arms and hands on her back, his cheek pressing against her hair.
The space of several breaths passed before Thranduil slowly released her. Elluin was still smiling contentedly as she stepped away. He looked down at her kindly.
"You must be exhausted," he said. "You traveled a long way through the rain."
"A little, sire," she admitted.
"I wish to see you again in the afternoon."
"As you wish, sire," she answered cheerfully, taking her cue to leave with a curtsy. "Good night."
"Good night, Elluin."
~.~.~
Having heard of the fire and of their daughter's safety, Elluin's parents were awake and expecting her when she arrived home, believing she would be tired, chilled, and likely distressed. It had been a long journey down the mountain and through the forest in the rain, following a close brush with death or injury as she fled from the lightning fire. Therefore, they had prepared her a warm bath and a calming tea, thinking to send her to bed soon after she had them. But when Elluin walked through the door, she was giddy and her cheeks were flushed.
"Daughter, what happened to you?" Linalda asked, bewildered.
Elluin seemed to awaken from her thoughts and blinked as she looked between her confused parents' faces.
"The king embraced me," she whispered, grinning. "I thought he would be angry with me for not anticipating the storm, but he seemed so relieved that I had returned safely…" Her expression faltered briefly as she continued. "I know he sees me just as a friend, but... it was wonderful."
Linalda shared a smile with Soronume.
"We are also relieved you've arrived safely home," Soronume said, tucking her under his arm. "Was your journey successful?"
"Yes," Elluin said, regaining some of her practicality. "The three mules were each laden with as much as they could carry. If we had stayed the additional day, we would have had to carry some ourselves."
"Then it is just as well you came home when you did," the ellon concluded. "And hopefully this rain will increase the forest's bounty so that you need not repeat the journey again for a long while."
"I think I shall stay close to the palace for now," Elluin agreed. "At least until next autumn." She had still not stopped smiling.
"I will add valerian root tincture to your tea, my dear," Linalda decided, knowing that Elluin needed to rest but her giddiness would be long in subsiding without assistance. She ensured her daughter drank it, ignoring her protests about the unpleasant taste. By the time Linalda had helped her daughter out of her bath, the tea had begun to take effect and she soon fell asleep.
"What do you think, my love?" Soronume asked his wife quietly when she joined him in their own room. "Is the king's heart opening to her?"
"Time will tell," Linalda said with a soft smile. "I wish there were a way to encourage him."
"As long as it does not involve putting our daughter in danger," her husband said sternly. His expression turned sorrowful. "I should have listened to my instincts more closely."
"No one could have predicted the lightning," she consoled.
"This is true," he conceded reluctantly.
"The same way no one can predict when a heart will fall in love," Linalda mused.
"No, indeed," Soronume said, and kissed his wife's cheek.
~.~.~
Thranduil had messengers inform the council members that there would be no meeting that morning. The formal reason for the cancellation was the rain that made the travel required for gathering reports and information a messy and time-consuming endeavor, but Maethon guessed the truth. Sulros had informed him when Maethon came to relieve him that morning that the king had not retired until after he met with his housekeeper, who had returned in the middle of the night. That was all he said on the matter, but the evidence in the rooms revealed more. Maethon saw that Sulros had hung the king's shirt and breeches to dry in the dressing room, only the front of them slightly damp, dry at the shoulders and feet — not consistent with a trip outdoors. He could hardly wait to ask his friend what happened.
Maethon was hard pressed to maintain a neutral expression as he attended to the king. Thranduil had risen as early as usual, but took his time with breakfast, fiddling with the two daisies on his tray.
"My king, shall I prepare your training clothes for this afternoon?" Maethon asked, keeping a casual tone.
"No. I shall remain in my chambers today."
"Very well, sire."