Dawn was not far off when the Elvenking and his ellyn finally ended their labor. They washed their hands and faces in the cold flowing river. One of the soldiers took a rag to clean the worst of the blood off Thranduil's armor. Another polished his silver circlet and placed a rich gray cloak about his shoulders that the rear guard had brought for him. The warriors of Greenwood all had some knowledge of how to tend to their king on the battlefields. It was a matter of solemn pride for them to uphold the realm's presentation and honor in this way.
Thus, Thranduil re-entered the settlement looking pristine, as if the stars, retreating one by one with the coming of the sun, had descended from the sky to take refuge in the armor and the eyes of the Elvenking. His cloak billowed regally behind him, as a cloud swirling about the night sky. Many townspeople were struck by the sight. Several murmurs of awe could be heard from among them. The sound was then briefly drowned out by a muted thunderclap as the ellyn assembled in the courtyard snapped a salute at Thranduil's gesture of dismissal.
The Elves indulged at last in a moment of rest. Their tired muscles and spirits were permitted to begin recovering from the stresses and traumas of the frantic afternoon and violent night. The more seasoned among them gently taught those who had spilled their first blood in this battle how to cope with their new realities. Some, who were perhaps too hardened against warfare, cleaned their armor and spoke nonchalantly about the strangeness of the town or the virtues of their horses.
Thranduil watched all this from the eaves of a house, where he sat on a crate with his arms crossed over his chest. Satisfied that his Men were doing as well as could be expected, his eyes shifted toward a group of tired Men at another corner of the courtyard, some sporting bandages, already starting to build another set of gates. He recognized the timbers they worked with as coming from Greenwood.
With the more pressing duties of the aftermath of battle complete, Thranduil finally allowed himself to begin contemplating his anger at the situation. If Elluin had not been here, there would have been no cause for his people's involvement. He owed nothing to the Men of Stony Bend—they were merely trade partners, just like the other clan of Rhun men from the region of Dorwinion. Greenwood received fair payment for its goods and services, certainly; under the direction of Elluin and the other council members, foreign trade like that with the Men of the plains was the primary reason for the realm's growing treasury.
But seeing the timbers made the relationship between his kingdom and Stony Bend somehow more important. The very trees of his realm made up a large part of the buildings that protected and sheltered these people. Pelts and meat from its hunters warmed and fed them. And now, its soldiers have bled and died in their defense.
The approach of a group of townswomen pulled him out of his thoughts. In their midst, they carried a few large, steaming pots of what smelled like stew. A pair of them, who appeared by their resemblance to be a lively matron and her daughter in the first bloom of womanhood, came directly to Thranduil. He reluctantly rose to meet them.
"King Thranduil," said the older woman as they curtsied awkwardly, "may we offer you and your men some food? It's the very least we can do to thank you for your help tonight." She spoke with authority, and with the gravity of someone who has seen her family through its share of hardships.
"Yes. That is very kind," he answered, his expression politely blank.
She murmured a courteous reply and nodded at the other assembled ladies, who began distributing bowls to the Elves lingering near the gates. She set a hand on her daughter's shoulder encouragingly before joining them herself.
"Here you go, your majesty," the girl blurted, and carefully handed him a finely made wooden bowl with designs in silver along its base and rim, and a silver spoon.
Thranduil accepted them as graciously as he might, noting that he was receiving the best of what the prospering town was able to offer. The stew was well seasoned and contained the meat of a bull likely butchered for the purpose, and plenty of vegetables.
"My name is Bronna, your majesty," she continued nervously, her eyes respectfully downcast as she struggled not to wring her folded hands. "I was wondering if there was anything I could do for you to… thank you, after all you and your soldiers have done for us."
"The meal is very welcome," Thranduil said, slightly perplexed.
"No, I mean… I mean, well, if there is anything I could do for you." She was looking everywhere but at him, her cheeks coloring. "Or if there is anything that you would like to do…with me…" Bronna briefly met his eyes at last, silently begging him to understand.
When he finally did, he nearly dropped his bowl.
"Oh."
"After you finish with that, of course," she rushed to add, gesturing to the food.
Thranduil was temporarily at a loss for words. At first, his anger nearly resurfaced. Did she mean to insult him thus? He had spent the last few hours of daylight in a frantic race to rescue his queen, whose life had been threatened. When night fell, he had killed Men he never otherwise would have had cause to encounter. And under the flickering stars, he had endured the loss of six of his ellyn, all of whom had spent years with him in training and journeys. Aurados had endured the Siege of Barad-dur by his side, victorious against the hordes of Sauron, only to be cut down by the spears of avaricious Men. How could this slip of a girl now suggest that he abandon his people and duties while he takes his pleasure with her, when he should by rights be mourning his soldiers and rejoicing in the survival of his beloved queen?
Though he was certain his thoughts could not be read in his expression, Bronna could only endure his penetrating gaze for a moment before she dropped her eyes to the ground again, clearly trying her best not to fidget. Doubtlessly, the girl's mother had approved or even suggested this course of action. Perhaps unfairly, Thranduil wondered if the family had employed similar measures to afford such luxuries as they had apparently obtained, if the silver he held was any indication. But he sensed no malice in Bronna. She was nervous, but had clearly made her offer volitionally without thinking it would cause any harm.
Thranduil was forced to consider that these were Men, and that their customs were different. He had heard rumors of such things as mistresses among them, and other similar practices. And for the mother to set her daughter into such a position meant that it would probably advance the status of the family somehow, he supposed. The mistress of a king would likely receive material favors that would make it worth her while, and the fleeting glances Bronna was even now sending him suggested that it was not only the material aspect of such arrangement that would be to her liking…
He found the idea rather offensive. But he forced himself to think like Elluin. His queen's understanding of the other races made her a fine diplomat. She recognized the differences between their customs, and would not punish a girl for making suggestions that would be perfectly acceptable among her own people.
The thought of Elluin and her good qualities helped him greatly to control his anger, both at Bronna's suggestion and at the situation that led to it. His bewilderment at the offer remained, but he was now, at least, able to refuse civilly.
The Elvenking sighed, drawing the girl's nervously expectant gaze. He endeavored to convey kindness in his tone, suspecting that she might be upset at his words. "Lady Bronna, it should perhaps be made known among your people that Elvish customs are quite different from what is apparently practiced here. Elves only engage in… romantic intimacy with one other person throughout all their long years of life—only with the person with whom they share an enduring spiritual bond. And while love between Elf-kind and Man-kind is not unheard of, it does not manifest in response to mere suggestion. So you will find that, however fair a maiden may be, or however admirable of character, there will be no arrangements of that sort between our peoples."
Bronna's eyes held surprise and a small amount of disappointment. "I see." Her nerves redoubled, and she looked sidelong toward her mother, who remained tactfully distracted by her task of distributing meals.
Thranduil decided to take pity on the girl. After thoughtfully swallowing another bite of the stew, he mentioned, "It would perhaps be crass for me to reject your offer of service, however, offered so purely from a heart of gratitude. If I may be so bold as to request a different favor?"
Bronna lifted tentatively hopeful eyes to him. This confirmed for him that her family was likely expecting her to attempt to earn them some privileges or benefits. Very well. But she would have to work for it.
"My wife, the Elvenqueen, is overseeing the healing of both the plague victims and those wounded in battle. Since you are a generous young lady in fine form, I wonder if you could place yourself at her disposal for a while? If you make your talents known to her, she will put you to use for the highest benefit. It would ease my heart to know she is well assisted, and you might learn some new skills in the course of it."
Bronna stared at him for a long moment, and he could sense her readjusting her expectations. He raised an eyebrow as it began bordering on impertinence.
"Thank you, your majesty," she said at last, giving him a small smile. "I shall." She withdrew with another somewhat ungainly curtsy.
Greenwood may have played a part in this settlement, he concluded, but Men were still very strange creatures.
Thranduil finished eating without further interruption, though he frequently felt the gazes of the people. The girl's mother came to take the empty bowl from him with a tight smile. He was then at a loss of what to do next. Dawn had conquered the horizon and the work of his soldiers was done. Soon, he could extract his wife, as he had been intending to do since he heard that she Greenwood. They would leave Gwedhil, who had come with the other healers, in charge of overseeing the care of the wounded and those still suffering from the plague. Certainly there would be some Man or Woman in the town who could oversee the hall of which Elluin had also taken control.
But that would mean approaching her, and in his grief and anger, that would be unwise while there was not something else to divert his attention.
He cursed himself for the thought when Remlastor, posted as a watch on the wall, called down that a pair of ellyn riding fast was on their way from Greenwood. How he hoped they would bring no more ill news.
"Can you see who they are?" Thranduil asked, internally shaking himself to prepare for whatever would come.
"Lord Derion and one of the queen's guards."
The guard would be Benavorn, Thranduil knew, recovered from his race to deliver the message of the queen's plan to the palace and desiring to return to his post. However, Lord Derion's presence was worrisome.
Remlastor informed the Man on watch beside him that the Elves were approaching before jumping down from the rampart to go to the Elvenking. He stopped to salute with a slightly nervous air. "Sire, shall I send for the queen?"
Thranduil could not prevent the furrow in his brow as he considered, emotions still vying for dominance within him. "Yes. Tell her that I will have her informed of what the messengers say, but that regardless of the news, I would have her quit the settlement as soon as she has arranged for others to take over the tasks she deems necessary to have continued here."
There was obviously more that the soldier wanted to say, if his uncomfortable expression was any indication, but he saluted again and left on his errand without another word. It served as a warning to Thranduil that his current feelings toward his queen were more easily read than he had first supposed, enough to stir unease in his warriors. He would have to keep his composure.
That thought was enough to irk him further. He had vowed to share every burden of his heart with Elluin. She would consider it a slight against herself for him to withhold his feelings. But if those feelings included anger against her…
The way Thranduil strode over to his soldiers, so recently dismissed to rest, betrayed, he hoped, nothing of his ongoing internal conflict. He ordered them to begin preparations for the bulk of the force to leave.
In the meantime, he watched the Men at work making the new gates, having extinguished their lanterns with the coming of the new day's light. The hammers and saws were abusing the wood with every blow and scrape. Thranduil would have felt sorry for it, had he not known the strength and protection that would result. He hoped the same principles applied to his marriage.
The sky was bright when Derion and Benavorn at last made their bows before the king. Thranduil simply nodded at the guard, who left briskly in search of his charge. Derion, however, could not be as easily dismissed.
"My heart sings to find you well, my king," he said earnestly. "I trust the queen is safe?"
"Yes. What brings you here?" Thranduil was eager to get to the point, and his advisor was equally pleased to oblige.
"I am afraid I bring concerning news. It seems that the Rhun Men traveling to Stony Bend at first had come in caravan with representatives of the northern clan who has been trading with us. We were given to understand from our scouts on the Old Forest Road that they have some dignitary among them who will wish an audience with you. They camped for the night on the plains further North, but will likely be at the palace before nightfall."
Thranduil cursed under his breath. Derion politely ignored it. "Sire, if the smoking pile of corpses on the plain is any indication, I believe we will need all our powers of persuasion and diplomacy to prevent a war with Rhun."
"Is the council prepared?"
"As much as we can be without your authority," said the advisor. "Lady Linalda has undertaken preparing for the party's accommodation, as at least having lived in proximity with Men in the Gray Havens. But she admitted that the queen would have a better idea of what would be best, having participated in the councils."
Thranduil frowned outright. "Even if the queen were home to undertake the preparations, these Men are different from the Edain that visited Lord Cirdan's domain. Even Soronume's experience may fall short in matters of diplomacy. We cannot know what to expect."
"As you say, sire," was Derion's pessimistic reply. "Regardless, I urge you to return to the palace as quickly as you may."
"I shall. Elluin will accompany me," he resolved. There was certainly enough to distract them on the journey. "You will stay here in the settlement, Derion. You will oversee the healers and soldiers I leave behind, and act as my representative here among the Men. There are matters that remain to be discussed with the new chieftain."
"Borgel has died?" Derion asked. "Did his son survive to succeed him?"
"Yes. I wished to discuss with Garren how he intended to safeguard the town. And I expect he will wish to present some type of thanks for our assistance against this attack. I will accept what he deems appropriate, though I wish it to be made clear that I have no intention of aiding him thus again."
"Yes, sire." Derion's eyes scanned the line of bodies of townspeople killed in the battle along one wall of the courtyard, respectfully covered and awaiting burial. He swallowed against the necessary question, quiet once it came. "Did our people suffer any losses?"
"Six ellyn. And several wounded."
Derion nodded solemnly. Thranduil knew this Elf's compassion. "Derion, we must endeavor not to allow our grief to provoke animosity between us and the clan of Northern Rhun."
The advisor pursed his lips in silence for a long moment. "Yes, sire. Perhaps it is well that I am to remain here for a while."
Thranduil was forced to agree.
Approaching feet drew his attention. To his surprise, it was Nidhair, without Elluin. He quickly rationalized that all her other Silent Guards were with her. Delwion had never left her side, Benavorn had just joined her, and Tinalfir and Sadron had likely attached themselves to her hours ago. They had joined the vanguard, accompanying the additional healers to enter the settlement after the battle. And there were many warriors of Greenwood about, uneasy enough in the presence of Men to take special care to ensure the queen's safety through vigilance.
Lord Derion excused himself to ask a soldier to direct him to the chieftain's hall, and Thranduil called after him to tell the queen his news once he found her. Nidhair saluted casually when he came within an arm's length of the king.
"Well, that was a near thing," the captain began grimly.
Thranduil knew he referred to his army's arrival right as the invaders attempted gaining access to the hall where Elluin sheltered. "Too near," the Elvenking said with a dark look.
"Listen, Thranduil," Nidhair said in a serious tone. The informality shocked the king into attention. "The queen recognized her mistake as soon as the invaders were spotted. She apologized to us all immediately and sought advice from me and…Aurados…at every turn to ensure the least amount of risk and damage."
"She left the kingdom, and my protection, volitionally!" Thranduil hissed angrily, stepping toward his companion in challenge.
Nidhair was not cowed in the least, and answered the king's fire with ice. In a firm, flat tone, he said, "The queen was acting in Greenwood's favor in preserving the town from destruction that would have left the river entrance into our kingdom unchecked, reduce profitable trade to our realm, and condemn innocents to the grave when it could easily be prevented."
Thranduil remained motionless, scowling at the captain and barely suppressing the urge to scream in frustration. "Of course her motives were honorable. But the fact remains-"
"And from what I gather from Lord Derion's presence," Nidhair interrupted, "you need her help now. If you cannot forgive her yet, at least remember that she is entirely deserving of her title."
The king fought to control his breathing. "I know it," he whispered eventually, at last stepping away and disengaging his glare from his friend to stare holes into the ground. "That is another reason why I was so fearful of losing her."
Nidhair allowed the confession to settle for a while before stepping again toward the king. Quietly, he said, "You should know by now, you can trust her to try her best to please you."
Thranduil ran a hand over his face and sighed. "I know. It has been her chief occupation for many years, in all her roles."
His companion smiled. "On that note," he said, "I am on an errand from her. She has made the preparations to leave as you requested, and wished to know if she may join you now."
The king's brows furrowed in confusion. "So quickly?"
Nidhair nodded. "And I volunteered to come ask you, because she anticipated your anger, and your likely temper made her uncertain of her reception." His tone of displeasure was poorly disguised.
Thranduil groaned. They were right, of course. He would probably have been cold with Elluin had she come before this conversation with Nidhair. Resolved, he pegged his companion with a serious gaze. "You may return, and tell the Elvenqueen that her husband will receive her with all due honor."
"'All due honor,' Thranduil?" Nidhair raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "It is a wonder that you have a mate at all!"
Thranduil rolled his eyes but relented to amend his statement, emphasizing the words. "I will receive her with joy. Does that meet with your satisfaction, captain?" he asked dryly.
"Well, it is an improvement," he said with a smile, saluting easily and starting to walk off.
"You know, I am beginning to regret inviting you to drop formality with me."
Nidhair stopped and looked at the king again. "I love you both too dearly to forgo the opportunity to advise you in accordance with my duty to protect the queen," he said with a deep bow. "I have done what I can. Now, I trust that the king, in his superior wisdom, will have much more adequate words for the queen in private." There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye that was entirely impertinent.
Shaking his head, Thranduil scoffed and waved off his companion, still undecided between shouting, laughing, or blushing.