58 - Regrets

Thranduil heard singing as he approached the clearing, but it was not Elluin's voice. It was Linalda who had been singing as she leisurely braided her daughter's hair, blocking his view, but Thranduil's sudden appearance silenced her. The elleth rose abruptly and placed herself between him and her daughter as if to defend her. Again, Thranduil thought, completely justified.

"I am here to speak to Elluin," he said, trying to suppress his desperation.

Taking a few determined steps nearer, he noted how Linalda's eyes were red with crying as she eyed him darkly. She had been mourning her daughter. Impulsively, Thranduil approached her and, taking her hand, knelt before her.

"This ends now," he swore, and kissed Linalda's hand. "I will earn your forgiveness."

"My forgiveness should be the least of your concerns right now," she accused, but managed to withdraw her hand gracefully instead of yanking it away. She stalked out of the clearing only because it was a king's command, leaving Thranduil alone with the creature of his desire.

There in the fading light, he saw his dear Elluin sitting on the grass. Her eyes were turned up toward the trees on the far side of the meadow, but they were so terrifyingly empty that Thranduil stopped dead in his tracks. She was so thin, so pale…

Elluin had made no sign of noticing either Thranduil's arrival or her mother's departure. Her skin had lost its golden glow; her eyes, their brightness; her limbs, their strength. He had broken her. His chest ached painfully.

Elluin's eyes did not stray in their vacant stare, nor did she make any move as he came to sit before her. His heart was pounding, and it was not because he had been running.

"Elluin, my heart," he began past the knot in his throat, taking her weakened hands in his. She finally looked at him, but it did not seem that she truly saw him. Her expression remained blank, and he suppressed a shiver.

"I am here," he continued, trying not to let his anguish show in his tone. "I am sorry I took so long." He released one of her hands to stroke her cool cheek. "Dear lady, I have been the greatest fool in Middle Earth. Please, can you forgive me?"

There appeared the slightest furrow now above her nose, as if she were puzzled about something, but too tired to seek an answer.

Thranduil tried to temper the panic that rose in his chest. "Please, my love, come back to me. I love you. Stay, and let me love you."

Still, she studied him, though it seemed that a faint light sparked in the wells of her eyes. He waited, trying to control his breathing, speaking quiet words of entreaty. Long moments passed, and she made no move. He ignored his welling tears.

The memory jarred him — kneeling beside her in a clearing with tears in his eyes after confessing his love. This had happened before, nearly two years ago.

He found it difficult to remove his hands from her now that he knew what she meant to him, but did so knowing that the action could give him a chance of keeping her by his side longer. He pulled out the dagger he always kept in his boot, unsheathing it and holding it up in front of Elluin.

"My heart, let this be the last time I hurt you," he said. Gingerly, he lifted one of her hands at level with their faces, and pricked one of her fingers with the dagger's point before flinging the blade away as if it burned him. He held onto her hand reverently, holding his breath, his eyes darting nervously between her face and the drop of blood that slowly formed on her skin.

"This is real, Elluin. I am here, and I love you. Come back to me," he pleaded again.

She blinked, finally shifting her gaze to her finger. She looked up at him again, her brows furrowing further.

"Thranduil?" she said, her voice quiet and rough from lack of use.

His eyes lit up with hope, and he could not restrain himself. Immediately, he pulled her into his arms. "Yes, my heart," he sighed into her hair, barely noticing the breathless tears that followed. As he held her, it seemed that his warmth seeped into her. Her body, at first cool and feathery under his touch, seemed to solidify and become more alive. He distantly recognized that he was shaking as she slowly brought her arms up to return the embrace.

"Thranduil," she said quietly, like a prayer.

"I'm sorry, Elluin," he sobbed, still unable to release her. "I hurt you, my own heart. I never should have thought to leave you."

"You've returned," she said, her hold around him slowly gaining strength.

"Yes, Elluin," he said, his breaths finally calming as relief flowed through him. "I have come back to you."

Finally, he stopped shaking and managed to withdraw enough to look again into her eyes. They stared back at him more purposefully now, more animated. He knew that she truly saw him. She kept a grip on his arms.

"My heart, I have much to make up for," he confessed seriously. "I will do what I must to regain your trust and your love, I swear it."

"You never lost my love," she told him matter-of-factly. And he could see the truth of it in her eyes. The love…and the wounds.

He somberly accepted that she said nothing to contradict the first part of his vow, and resolved to see it through, whatever it took. He gently extricated one arm from Elluin's hold to swipe a sleeve over his face. He looked her over, assessing her thin frame and sallow skin. As he had done long ago, he wiped the smudge of blood off her abused finger with the edge of his robe.

"Elluin, will you come back to the palace with me?" he asked, allowing hope into his eyes. "I should like to care for you there."

She hesitated, and it cut him deeply. She was afraid he would hurt her again. It was safer to love him from a distance, as she had done for so many years.

"Here," Thranduil said after a moment's pause, uncertainty coloring his tone. He fumbled for a moment in his robes until he found a flask—a gift from Amroth. "Take some miruvor."

Elluin slowly took the flask and obediently sipped. It seemed to stoke the fire in her eyes to a shaded semblance of what he had known it to be before. She blinked at him again.

"Thank you," she said, distant and polite, as she handed it back.

Thranduil anxiously replaced it and offered her a wafer of lembas.

"Will you eat?" he asked tentatively.

He followed her movements with his eyes as if to ensure that she would. Elluin noticed, swallowed, and observed, "This is somewhat of a change."

"I am ashamed to agree," he readily admitted. "You have cared for me so well and for so long, and I have not returned your kindness as I ought."

"It is not your kindness that I lacked."

Thranduil winced but could not tear his gaze from her. His instincts were begging to sweep her away to his chambers and pamper her back to health, and begin atoning for his harmful mistakes. But he knew that if anything good were still to happen between them, it would not occur until he had confessed what he had done. One had to chop away the diseased branches of floundering trees to give them any chance at growth. Despite their surviving love for each other, they both needed assurance that this would not happen again before further promises could be made.

"I know," Thranduil said earnestly. "It was my openness and my trust that I withheld. I was a fool not to recognize your strength, Elluin. And I was a fool to deny us both the bond that we need, because of my own pride. I had convinced myself I was acting to protect you, but in truth, I was just ashamed at admitting how much the pain of my past has affected me."

Elluin nodded her understanding but remained silent, waiting for him to draw the conclusion.

He obliged, unwilling to deny her anything, and eager to prove his faith. "I have realized how foolish it was of me to wish to keep you from my scars, for life on the Hither Shores is certain to provide more, to both of us. I will no longer use shame or fear as an excuse to put distance between us, or deny you what is your right."

After a brief moment, Elluin gave him a slight smile, and Thranduil knew she at least accepted his apology, regardless of whether she had yet forgiven him.

Now for the promise, he thought with a thrill. With one hand he held hers, and with the other he reached into his shirt to pull out two silver rings. Elluin's lips parted in surprise.

"All that I have, all that I am, I wish to give to you," Thranduil said, holding the rings in his palm between them. "Whatever comes, the sweet and the bitter, I wish to share with you. I would be your husband, Elluin, if you would have me."

His conviction and hope glittered in his eyes as he waited for Elluin's response. She searched his face for several breaths. Finally, she seemed to find what she sought, and her lips widened into a wider smile.

"I will bind myself to you, Thranduil," she said. Her smile grew even greater at Thranduil's relieved and joyful chuckle, and she allowed him to slide the smaller ring onto his finger. Both their cheeks were wet with tears as she reciprocated the gesture, and he drew her into another embrace. They nuzzled into each other's hair, letting hope and love diffuse through their spirits like water onto parched earth, clinging to each other, for many long moments.

Another elleth's voice cut into their mutual reverie. "Sire, my daughter needs to rest."

Soronume had joined his wife by the clearing. Their faces had drained of anger, and now a weary relief had filled them. Their daughter lived. But though Elluin was not bound for the Halls of Mandos, she was expected in the Halls of the Elvenking.

"Will you come with us to the palace?" Thranduil asked them, rising and pulling Elluin up after him, silently delighting in the ability to do so.

He thought he saw a twinkle of appreciation in their eyes as they agreed.

~.~.~

Maethon forgot protocol entirely when Thranduil walked into his chambers that evening.

"Sire, Elluin…"

"She lives, Maethon," the king answered softly, slow feet coming to a halt. "Galion had chambers prepared for her. She is receiving the finest care."

The servant let out a sigh. Then he remembered himself.

"Forgive me, my king— welcome home," he rushed to say. It would not be proper for the king to see his previous anguish, nor even his present relief. Maethon finally turned his full attention to his master. Thranduil's clothes were soiled from long travel, and it was obvious he had not slept or eaten properly for a very long time.

"Sit, sire," Maethon said, gently taking the king's elbow and drawing him toward the closest chair. Thranduil made no fuss, blinking slowly as Maethon pulled a small table in front of him and served him a steaming bowl of soup with fresh bread. He wolfed down half of it before slowing down, at which point Maethon interrupted the meal by peeling off the king's tunic, shirt, and boots, and taking a wet cloth to the exposed skin, guessing the king might fall asleep in the bath if it were offered. Maethon said nothing as the cloth passed over the silver engagement band on the king's finger, but his expression softened considerably. Thranduil lazily nibbled on the bread as Maethon brushed the dust and tangles out of his hair.

The work finished, Maethon set the brush aside decisively, noting the glazed look of Thranduil's eyes. "Come now, sire. To bed with you."

"No, just a fresh tunic," he protested, his sounds slurring together in his exhaustion. "I wish to go to Elluin."

"I promise, I will wake you before dawn, my king, then you can go to her," Maethon said boldly. "Just now, you need to be in your own bed. She will not wake before you do." He suspected Thranduil would not have been able to resist his guiding arms even if he tried. The king nearly fell over when Maethon tugged off his breeches, and could barely lift his arms as a night shirt was tossed over his head. His eyes were shut long before his head landed on the pillow.

~.~.~

Elluin gradually drifted out of a happy, hazy dream. She had thought a soft sound had woken her… She had her eyes shut, and decided to take stock of her other senses before opening them. The delicate scent of daisies wafted through the air. A soft blanket was tucked around her as she lay in an even softer shift. Her whole body was clean and warm, except a part of her forearm exposed to the cooler air. There was a different warmth enveloping her hand—someone's palm atop it, fingers curling around to her palm. She heard the sound again, and was able to identify it: a male Elven voice, in a soft grunt. The fingers of the hand holding hers twitched.

Elluin opened her eyes. As she guessed, this was not her roof. It was obviously a spacious chamber in the style of the palace of Greenwood, but she did not recognize it. Golden sunlight streamed in through a large window, some rays tinted green by the swaying leaves of the canopy. Vases of fresh cut daisies were set atop shelves and tables around the room. Turning her head to the side, her breath hitched. There was Thranduil, slumped in an armchair drawn close to her bedside, fast asleep. It was his hand that was holding hers, moving as he dreamed.

She supposed it was well that he was here with her, and she could see the silver band around his forefinger, otherwise she would have thought that what happened the day before was a mere fantasy stirred by her muddled, fading mind. But there he was, dressed in a simple shirt and breeches, sitting beside her.

Thranduil's handsome features seemed troubled, she realized. Another soft sound, as if he wanted to yell in protest, and his breathing quickened. He was having a nightmare.

"Thranduil," she said quietly.

He woke with a start, nearly jumping from the chair, gaze sweeping around the room until it landed on her face. He took a deep breath to calm himself, settling back into the chair and bringing his other hand to caress the one he held, as if to reassure himself that Elluin was truly there.

"Good morning," he said once his breathing had settled, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips. He appeared uncertain about how he would be received.

"When did you come in?" she asked. Her memories of the day before were still somewhat hazy, but she did not recall him in the room when her mother helped her into bed.

"At dawn," he said, slightly embarrassed. "I…had not intended to fall asleep again. It seems Maethon was right, and I needed to rest more."

Elluin smiled briefly at the mention of her friend, but she had other things on her mind. "Thranduil, where are we?"

"This is Ninniach's room. Raegdis volunteered her house to host you and assured me Ninniach would welcome you here if she were not still in Lorinand."

It made sense that she didn't recognize the place, then. Lady Raegdis' family employed their own servants, so Elluin had never been here.

"You were having a bad dream," Elluin said kindly, questioning.

Thranduil shook his head and looked down, seeming about to brush off her words. But then his gaze landed on his hand, and the silver ring he wore.

"I will tell you," he said resolutely, obviously reminded of his vow to share all things with her. "I was dreaming of my journey these past few days. I dreamed I was running toward you, but you faded further away with each step I took." He met her gaze with a pained but determined expression. "I would rather not repeat the experience."

Elluin sighed. She was still regaining her strength, but knew one thing for certain. "You should know, I would never leave you willingly."

Thranduil nodded, and kissed her hand. He let the moment settle before changing the subject. "How do you feel?"

When she stirred as if to sit, she suddenly found Thranduil's arm behind her to assist. The move had brought him closer to her, and it made her smile. "Much better," she said, watching the concern and affection sparkle in his pale blue eyes as he searched her face for any sign of strain or discomfort. She raised a hand to his face in appreciation, stroking her thumb along his cheekbone. To her surprise, he quickly shut his eyes against sudden tears.

"Thranduil, what's —"

"What if I had not come in time?" he gasped out, covering her hand with his. "My spirit is heavy with guilt from what I have done, but if you had not survived, it would have been—"

Elluin hushed him. "There is no need for such dark wondering. We are together now."

He looked at her again, appearing unconvinced. "I am entirely unworthy of you, my lady," he said. "After all I have done to you… You may come to regret our union."

Elluin's face turned dark, and she pulled her hand away. The wounds on her heart were too fresh to stand it. "Don't do this, Thranduil," she said. "Do not deny me again. Do not try to drive me away." Her vision blurred as tears streamed down her cheeks unbidden.

In an instant, she felt the bed shift as Thranduil came to sit beside her, his strong arms pulling her against him. He tucked her head against his neck.

"Did I not tell you I am the greatest fool in Middle Earth?" he said. "That was thoughtless. It will not happen again. Please forgive me."

He helped dry her tears, and kept holding her.

Once she felt more in control of herself, she said quietly, "Perhaps I am not quite ready for you to share your fears with me."

Thranduil placed a kiss on her forehead. "My selfishness harms you at every turn. I will seek to remedy it, my heart. I will see you regain your strength."

Elluin did feel tired again. Reflecting, she realized it was to be expected, coming back from the brink of fading…

After a long moment, he separated slightly from her to look into her eyes. "May I rest a while with you?" he asked tentatively.

"I would like that," Elluin answered honestly, feeling reassured by the warmth of his body beside hers. He withdrew only briefly to arrange a few pillows against the headboard, then gathered her more comfortably into his arms as they reclined.

They both soon drifted again to sleep, and no unpleasant dreams could reach them within the protective circle of their beloved's arms.

A/N: Welcome new followers and thanks to those who added this story to their favorites! And thanks to the thoughtful reviewers. I love hearing your impressions and always try to address them in upcoming chapters as I do edits. For now, Elluin still has healing to do, and Thranduil still has to learn how to avoid hurting her in the future. But at least they're both alive, together, and irrevocably dedicated to each other. My hope is for Elluin and all of you to believe, eventually, that Thranduil deserves forgiveness. There's a ways to go, yet.