46 - Sundering Plans
It was well past nightfall before Thranduil and Elluin found their way back to the palace. The leisurely walk in the cold air had ensured their lips showed no lingering signs of their use by the time they arrived. However, the guard by the kitchens' side door blinked in shock before he could catch himself when he noticed that the Elvenking and the housekeeper were holding hands.
Obstinately, Thranduil squeezed her hand tighter, stopping when they were right out of earshot from the guard.
"My heart, thank you for taking me to the juniper trees," he murmured with a contented smile. "It was a most enjoyable afternoon."
"Yes, it was," she agreed, eyes glittering. "I am inclined to invite you to join me in investigating a great many more trees in preparation for harvest."
Thranduil's laugh rang out into the forest. "I sincerely hope so," he responded, and led her back inside.
He deposited Elluin at the door to her office, as she insisted that there were a few more tasks to attend to before she retired for the night. She felt the loss of the heat of his hand keenly when he withdrew and knew it would be long before she could form a coherent thought, let alone make accurate calculations in the ledgers. She allowed her thoughts to drift back to the stand of junipers, where she and Thranduil had kissed…and kissed…and kissed.
Elluin had been more than content with doing just that. It felt as if her spirit were soaring above the treetops the entire time. Thranduil had not moved his hand from where it was entangled in her hair, and they had not moved any closer to each other. They had broken apart when evening drew near, knowing that having the king disappear overnight would distress the household and the council members. There had been few words between them as they walked back, each reflecting on the new turn in their relationship, reveling in the memory of the new sensations, and cementing them into their spirits.
Elluin called for tea, hoping it would help her calm down enough to finally turn her mind from the exciting day's events and toward other tasks. To her surprise, it was Dinen who came into her office after a knock. She had brought a full pot and two cups, installing herself in the opposite chair with a bright greeting.
"Tell me all about it, Elluin," the head cook said, pouring the tea with a delighted glint in her eyes.
"About what?" Elluin asked, inwardly cursing her face for breaking into a grin without her consent.
Dinen laughed as she passed her a steaming cup. "What a blessing it is to this old heart to see you so happy, Elluin," she said with a sigh. "You and the king, both."
Elluin's brow furrowed. "How do you know the king is happy?"
Dinen scoffed good-naturedly. "I have been in his household since before we moved from Amon Lanc. I should hope I can read his moods by now! And he's eating well," she added with a smirk.
The housekeeper smiled fondly at her friend.
"The servants have already made up their minds," Dinen continued. "'The king has found his bond-mate,' they say. We're all expecting an announcement any day."
Elluin's expression faltered. "How can they all be so certain?"
Dinen huffed, trying to conceal frustration. "My dear, you are very young, but that does not excuse your blindness. Can you not see that you hold his heart?" The cook leaned forward and searched her companion's eyes, trying to find the answer. There was hope, and joy, but also doubt in their blue depths.
Dinen reached out a hand to encase Elluin's from across her desk, going on without waiting for a verbal answer. "I know the king likes to take his time with changes," she encouraged. "You have waited this long. A little more patience, and you will both be rewarded."
Elluin smiled gratefully, and sipped her tea. It was warm against her lips, and she was reminded of Thranduil's kisses. Once again, she was unable to suppress a grin, earning her another giggle from Dinen.
~.~.~
The council meeting the following morning was unusual with the number of curious sidelong glances shot at the Elvenking and the housekeeper. News had obviously traveled about their escape into the forest the previous day. The two Elves in question kept their gazes studiously away from each other, with the Elluin looking squarely at the table during the few times she needed to speak. But it seemed to the council members that the eyes of both were mirthful, seeming always on the brink of crinkling with joyful laughter.
The tone became slightly more sober toward the end of the morning as Lady Raegdis reported that the Silvan tree masters had selected a fine group of silver birch saplings to be sent to Rivendell before the first snowfall—a gift to repay Elrond's hospitality last spring. Travel with uprooted, well-wrapped saplings was ideal during the more temperate part of winter. The slow growth of the season yielded fewer needs for the plant during transit, and it would be replanted well before any threatening frost. Springtime would see it dig greedily into its new soil, prepared to flower. But this meant that the party traveling would need to leave soon.
Lord Derion suggested that the Silvan tree masters bringing the plants be accompanied by someone in the council, to ensure that relations remained amiable between Rivendell and the Greenwood during the exchange. The advisors had become silent, none feeling quite equipped for the task.
"My king," Lord Derion said at length, "I wonder if Master Soronume might be willing to accept the charge? While he is not of the council, he has helped the kingdom with diplomatic situations previously. And his trade, I imagine, makes him well acquainted with the needs of trees and able to support the Silvan wisdom."
Thranduil thought briefly before asking, "Lady Elluin?"
"Sire, my father would be honored to take this task. He currently has no urgent projects." She met the king's eyes briefly, to convey her support for the idea.
Thranduil felt her gaze like a heated caress, and forcefully willed his heartbeat to stay steady. All too aware of his audience, the Elvenking quickly averted his eyes and nodded. "Lord Derion, draft a plan for the journey to share with the traveling party tomorrow."
The ellon bowed in acknowledgment.
Noting that they had come to the end of the council session, Captain Telior cleared his throat. "Sire, I trust it is still the king's plan to survey the borders before the spring?" Thranduil noted the hesitation in the captain's tone and hoped his council members did not. Of course Telior would guess that he would not wish to be parted from his new-found love, especially after the display he witnessed outside of the practice grounds days ago. Thranduil fought the urge to seek Elluin's eyes again, focusing instead on keeping his breath even and his face relaxed although he wanted to shout and slam his fists onto the table in protest.
Without waiting for a response from Thranduil, Telior quickly turned to explain to the rest of the council — perhaps to give the king some time to compose his own response. It was certainly needed.
"It had been recommended after the Attack of the Unseen Army," Telior was telling the advisors. "We have had no report of Orc activity in the realm since then, but our available soldiers have been hard pressed to cover both the regular patrols and the additional scouting missions. Now that we have inducted new recruits, we can bring them along so they may both familiarize themselves with our territory and assist in surveying the borders." He turned back to the king. "Shall we go through with this plan, sire?" he asked again.
By now, Thranduil had recovered sufficiently to respond in an even tone. "Yes. Make the arrangements for us to leave within the week."
Telior and Galion bowed their heads to acknowledge their orders.
"Any other matters?" the king asked, a little more coldly than he intended.
Everyone was aware of the shift. None of them dared to move. "No, sire," Lord Derion finally blurted after a short, strained silence. Thranduil dismissed them with a stiff nod.
Galion subtly waved a hand at Elluin when she stood up beside him, indicating that she should be the last to leave. She obeyed out of habit, hanging back as the others filed out. She had wanted to flee to her office to collect herself, knowing that her disappointment in the new plan was completely unfounded and not wanting it to show. Of course Thranduil had to go on this patrol — it was a completely expected occurrence, and necessary to ensure Greenwood's safety. It was much more important than the joy of having him close to her. The afternoon they had spent together in the woods had been sorely needed after so much time apart, and now they would shortly be sundered again, likely for weeks. A blink of an eye in the life of an Elf, to be sure…but no less poignant for it.
Elluin dared to lift her eyes to meet Thranduil's as she reached the door, and — as Galion had apparently predicted — the king gestured for her to remain behind.
"Mileth, you may go," she ordered quietly to the servant at her post by the wall. The elleth hastily bowed and scuttled out without so much as a curious glance.
Elluin peeked into the hallway toward the other council members, now a good distance away, all walking quickly as if eager to escape the Elvenking's sour mood. Quietly, she shut the door of the council chambers and turned to face him.
The regret shining in his eyes hit her like a slap, and her breath hitched. Without a conscious thought, she closed the distance between them in a swish of skirts and took his sword-calloused hands in her own work-worn ones.
"Thranduil, we will have to become accustomed to this," she said vehemently, not bothering to hide her own sorrow. "Your duties, and sometimes my own, will require separations like this occasionally."
"It is too soon," he said, dropping one of her hands to caress her cheek. "I have only just found you."
"We can weather it," Elluin said, though her displeasure was evident in her tone and in the look she gave him.
"Of course we can," he answered easily. "But it is not what I wish." His eyes roamed her face slowly, beginning to glitter as his frown morphed from one of frustration to one of determination, causing a blush to rise in Elluin's cheeks.
She decided to take his lead. "Then what do you wish?" she asked, her disappointment draining away in the wake of anticipation.
Thranduil's eager gaze held her captive even as his fingers wound into her hair. "More moments like this," he answered softly, bringing his lips down to graze hers.
It took several moments for Elluin to recover her thoughts enough to open her eyes and speak. "You know, we will have many moments like this in the ages we will have together, for us to remember whenever we are apart," she said a little breathlessly, still trying somehow to steel them both for the impending separation.
Thranduil smiled even as he drew closer again. "And I intend to enjoy each one."
~.~.~
Maethon struggled to keep his brows from furrowing in confusion when Thranduil walked into the royal chambers after the council meeting with a happy look on his face. The body servant had already been warned by a runner that the king would be leaving on patrol within a week. Maethon was therefore anticipating the need to distract Thranduil from bleak thoughts of the undesirable distance the trip would put between him and his new love. But now, the king strode in with bright eyes that seemed somewhat distracted, and a smile tugging at his lips. Looking closer, Maethon noticed that those lips were perhaps slightly redder than usual. Understanding dawned and Maethon's eyes widened slightly in surprise. He would have to find Elluin later, to hear about the recent developments.
Sulros had been even more mirthful than usual this morning as he reported to Maethon at their shift change that the king had returned late from a stolen afternoon with Elluin. But Maethon had not expected that their time together would yield such a drastic improvement in Thranduil's humor, to the point that he seemed to dismiss the unpleasant outcome of this morning's council meeting.
Maethon gave the king the usual greeting and invited him to sit at the small table where a modest midday meal was waiting. Thranduil absent-mindedly obeyed, allowing his servant to remove his formal outer robe and crown on the way. He had only taken a few bites before he sat back and studied his wine goblet, taking slow sips and savoring the taste on his lips, the same smile still threatening to overtake his face. Maethon dared not comment, going about his usual tasks as silently as usual, but certainly could not avoid noticing the king's blissful distraction.
The servant's tasks unfortunately included preparing the king's things for the journey. Reluctantly, he cleared his throat. "My king, will you be wearing your metal armor or the leather armor for the upcoming patrol?"
Maethon almost felt guilty over the necessary question, for Thranduil's face instantly became icy. He sighed and set down the goblet. "The leather."
"Very well, sire." The servant debated apologizing, but reasoned that it would cross a line. They were both better off pretending that Maethon's dear friend was not the same elleth that Thranduil was courting. Stating outright that he knew the impending separation between them would be difficult but would pass quickly with the influx of tasks would be too personal to be of comfort, regardless of how well it was intended.
After another moment, Thranduil rose impatiently. "My sword," he ordered, and blinked when he turned to find Maethon already holding it out to him, his gaze lowered to the ground.
He took it wordlessly and allowed Maethon to gesture him onto a bench to swap his soft court boots for sturdier ones, and his finely embroidered shirt for a plain linen one, these items having already been laid out while he was at the table. Thranduil wondered what Maethon had seen in him. He was due to be attending to correspondence and writing missives in preparation for the patrol this afternoon, but somehow, Maethon had known even before he did that he needed some time to let out his frustrations on the sparring fields before he could be productive.
Thranduil found himself suddenly curious about his body servant's friendship with Elluin. Was he this attentive and insightful with her? He deemed that they shared these traits. Both of them could read him so easily. What would a friendship such as that be like? Could he ever learn to be thus with Elluin?
He abandoned the thought, knowing it would lead to another bout of melancholy, and rose from the bench. He nodded at Maethon and strode out of the room, Gaelang's hilt ruthlessly gripped in his fist.
A/N: A day late, I know... I actually had to write most of this chapter this very week, instead of doing just final edits like I usually do. Please forgive me if this chapter seems less polished than the others. But I have the next few chapters already mostly finished. WARNING: this story is not just a happily-ever-after of how Thranduil and Elluin end up getting married after finding each other. There are the wider events in Arda to consider, and weaknesses within themselves that they must overcome - not to mention the fulfillment of Cirdan's prophecy. Be prepared for a bumpy ride.