Thranduil and Elluin were woken late in the afternoon by a knock on the door. Blinking blearily, Elluin was about to move away, but Thranduil held her fast and placed a leisurely kiss on her hair.
"Who is it?" he called.
"Maethon, sire. I have brought a meal."
His body servants were so familiar with him that Thranduil thought nothing of them seeing him in such a state of relative impropriety, reclined on the bed. But now he looked to Elluin for guidance, not knowing her feelings on the matter.
She smiled up at him. "I am a little hungry," she admitted, and made no move to dislodge herself from his embrace.
"Come in, Maethon," Thranduil called with an answering smile, happy that at least she was not ashamed of their proximity.
The servant promptly entered and unabashedly walked right up to Elluin's side of the bed, depositing the tray rather hastily onto her lap before taking her hand. Relief and joy were written on his features as he kissed it.
"How glad I am to see you well, my lady," he said, his voice somewhat roughened by emotion.
"Thanks in part to you, Maethon," she answered warmly. "All those flowers and the hours sitting beside me playing your harp…"
"You know I would do anything for you, my friend," he answered earnestly.
"Ah, for our lady, but not for your king?" Thranduil asked, smiling in response to his servant's joy and amused by his loss of decorum.
"I already do everything for you, sire," Maethon quipped back easily, his mood entirely too light to take Thranduil's question seriously. But he did move to the tray as he spoke and ensured the king was served his plate first.
"Mistress Gwedhil is without," Maethon added once they were settled with food and water. "She wishes to check on Lady Elluin once you have eaten."
Thranduil sighed, murmuring his thanks and a dismissal. He knew, of course, that he could not stay with Elluin in this room indefinitely, pretending to have no other obligations…but he had hoped for more time than these precious few hours, at least. This did, however, remind him of the more urgent matters to be discussed.
He allowed a few moments for both of them to eat, since they'd both been largely deprived during the days prior. But, eventually, he spoke.
"My heart, your parents are here as well, in the guest quarters."
"Yes, I think I remember them telling me last night."
He gave her a sidelong glance as she bit into a slice of apple. "Yesterday, your father encouraged me to marry you as soon as you are able."
She nearly choked on her food, but managed to swallow and turn her head to stare at him, a blush rising to her cheeks. "He did?" But there was also that same hesitation in her eyes.
"I know I have work to do, my heart," he told her solemnly. "And I will do it. I will place you first—correctly, this time. And I will heed those who would counsel me to our benefit, instead of pushing them away as I had done. In this manner, I hope to regain your trust."
"You cannot place me first all the time," she noted practically. "The kingdom needs its king."
"But Thranduil needs his queen," he answered. He looked at her thoughtfully. "Perhaps having you by my side while dealing with matters of the kingdom will help. I heard the report from Galion about what you did with our newest trade agreement with the Men of the plains, maneuvering a friendship between them and the Silvan wood cutters. Perhaps the same principle can be used for us. Relying on each other to complete tasks and address problems might inspire greater confidence between us."
A large part of him wanted to cast all these careful steps aside and take her to wife that very instant. Once they had formed their bond, their trust would be automatically ingrained into their very beings. But the wounds on Elluin's heart had not yet healed, and it would taint any bond they made now. He also knew that Elluin was not yet completely convinced of his sincerity, and it haunted him. And he knew that if he waited until she was entirely willing to open up to him again, he would count it beyond precious. He longed for the gift of her trust even more than the blessing of their unity.
Elluin blinked, seeming to order her thoughts. "When would you have us wed?" she finally asked.
He took her hand and gave her a hesitant smile. "It is nearly midsummer now. Perhaps in a few months, when the leaves change in autumn. Would that suit? It certainly aligns with my own wishes." It was far enough away, he hoped, for his efforts at helping her heal and winning her trust to yield fruit, but soon enough that she would not lose hope in his resolve.
Elluin stared for another long moment. Then she must have realized his honesty. In response, she leaned in and kissed his cheek.
"With mine, also," she declared, and her face brightened into a smile.
Thranduil thought his heart would burst. This lovely creature had agreed, despite everything, to be his wife. He suddenly found the rosy color on her smiling cheeks to be the most beautiful color in the world.
When they had finished their meal, Thranduil called a servant to clear it away. They recognized her as Gerniel, a Silvan elleth who had seen countless generations of Elves born in Greenwood even before the beginning of Oropher's reign, and had begun service in the palace more out of curiosity than anything else. Too old to bother with excesses of decorum, she winked at Elluin as she collected the tray, but made the appropriate curtsy to Thranduil before she left.
"I suppose I should retire and allow Gwedhil to examine you," Thranduil said, sighing with reluctance as his mirth at the ancient elleth's audacity faded.
"I feel fine," Elluin protested sharply, squeezing his hand far more tightly than the situation warranted.
Thranduil was instantly on the alert, seeing the uncertainty on her face. He turned to face her more directly and took her other hand also. "My heart, what troubles you?"
She swallowed and dropped her eyes, seeming to draw strength from the sight of their clasped hands. "It is perhaps unfair of me to feel this way," she began quietly. "But whenever you change your opinion of me, it is when you are not with me."
Thranduil's heart broke all over again. He allowed the shame to wash over him and dismissed it, knowing that lingering on it now would not help his lady. They had at least part of a plan in place now for strengthening their relationship, and he had faith in its success. In the meantime, he needed to assure Elluin that he would be faithful to it.
"You have never doubted my love, once I declared it to you, have you?" he asked, searching her eyes.
He saw her answer before she said the words. "No, never."
"Then I declare to you now my faithfulness. And please come to me whenever you will, to ensure I remember it. I do not intend to leave the palace grounds without you until you are convinced."
Thranduil saw her consider his words as they shared a brief smile.
Elluin stared again at their joined hands before she spoke again. "This ordeal has made me forget what I already knew. I knew you as dedicated and determined, and good-hearted, always with the best intentions for me and for those under your care." She met his gaze. "I will remember again soon enough, I think." She gave him an encouraging smile, which Thranduil answered with a hopeful one of his own.
"Shall I admit the healer?" he asked carefully.
Elluin nodded and dutifully withdrew her hands from his.
"I will ensure that my whereabouts are always known," he told her, rising reluctantly. "And, jests aside, my love, come to me whenever you wish, if you feel able. You still hold the position of housekeeper, but you have my leave to lay aside or delegate any tasks you wish in order to do so. Galion will be informed of this." He gave her a fond smile and ran a thumb over her cheek. "I admit I would enjoy my days more with you at my side. Now that we are trothplighted, none would think it strange."
"I will join you when I may," she promised, obviously pleased at the prospect.
Thranduil was unable to conceal his happiness with her assent. "Then I will see you soon, my love."
He kissed her forehead and, after a long glance back at her, left the room to send in the waiting Gwedhil.
~.~.~
"You look better," Soronume observed, running a hand over his daughter's head before selecting a chair in Raegdis' receiving room. The late afternoon sun lent its golden glow to the place, making it even easier to notice the drastic changes in Elluin since the previous day as she settled beside his wife on a couch. Elluin's skin had lost most of its pallor, and her eyes had regained most of their brightness. The house's lady's maid, Fennith, had arrayed her in a comfortable dress that fell more like a robe, and brushed her hair until it gleamed almost as much as it had before she…
Soronume's jaw clenched at the memory.
"I am much improved," Elluin confirmed, breaking through his thoughts. "Gwedhil says I may do whatever I wish as long as I take time to rest and eat."
"That is good news," Linalda said happily.
"So, my dear, what is it that you wish to do?" Soronume asked.
"Well, first, speak with my dear parents," Elluin said with some humor, drawing smiles from them.
"And then, daughter," Linalda asked, "will you resume your duties as housekeeper?"
"I must speak with Galion about that," she mused. "Mostly, I intend to. But Thranduil has invited me to spend more time with him, which will take me away from some of my duties."
"And you agreed?" Soronume asked, trying to keep the bitterness from his tone.
His daughter saw through it and sighed wearily. "You must think me mad for allowing this love to continue," Elluin said.
"Dear child, I would make no attempt to stop it," he countered, "and not only because you cannot live without it." Now it was his turn to sigh, running a hand over his face before meeting her eyes with a look of determination that suggested he was realizing the truth of his words as he spoke them. "He hurt you by making a single mistake: attempting to drive you away."
"To protect me from the stains on his spirit," Elluin agreed, "…and to protect himself, from the shame of admitting to them."
Soronume nodded sagely. "It was abysmally idiotic, especially considering who you are to him."
"Who do you think I am to him?" Elluin asked curiously.
"You are the sapphire of Greenwood, my child," Linalda broke in easily, "— the blue star that will encase the heart of the Elvenking in its kind warmth and firmness, and allow that heart to turn from ice to flesh that can be trusted to rule the kingdom."
Elluin slowly shook her head in disbelief. "He certainly cannot rely solely on me to provide the defense of his heart," she mused.
"Indeed, the idea was too frightening for him once he realized that a relationship with you would mean relinquishing his control over his own protection. I imagine that is, in part, why he tried to stop it," Linalda said bitterly. "For one who has been so long alone, it stands to reason that he would fear dependency on another. Before the month is out, I intend to steal all the ointments from the healing rooms and bribe Sulros to pour a bucket of fire ants into the king's bed, to repay him for his stupidity."
Her hostile declaration drew surprised laughter from Soronume and Elluin.
"But he did realize that abandoning this fear was the price for love," Linalda said, taking her daughter's hand and meeting her eyes earnestly. "He knows now he must drop the barriers he has built around himself, in order to let the strength of the bond between you take their place."
Elluin pursed her lips, unconvinced.
Soronume picked up on her mood. "His mistake cost you both," he commented, "but you most of all. Is he worth pursuing, Elluin?"
Elluin looked gravely at her parents. Soronume could see her mentally evaluating the king's behaviors—his sweet attentiveness during the beginning of their courtship, his cold aloofness when he had put distance between them, his sharp cruelty when he rejected her outright and left, and finally his remorse and care over the past day since he returned. "Yes, father," she said, seeming relieved at the realization.
The carpenter's lips quirked into a grim smile. "He told you what I said, I imagine?" he asked. "Are you ready to marry him? What would you have him do?"
"I need…" she straightened invisible wrinkles in her gown. "I already told him, I need to know he will not try to drive us apart again. We have agreed on a wedding when the leaves change."
Linalda tapped her daughter's hand. "The ring on your finger, that once was mine, is at least some proof that he has accepted your role in his life."
Elluin nodded, then looked up with determination. "I will make sure he does not forget it."
"Now, do not take all the burden on yourself," Linalda counseled. "That is not how a relationship works. You will act to support and protect him, as you have ever done. And he must actively allow you to surround him thus, without reverting to independence."
"And if that thick-headed Elf ever pushes you away again," Soronume said, his tone light despite the sincerity in his eyes, "he will have more than fire ants to contend with."
~.~.~
General Cembeleg wondered at the many messengers he passed in the halls toward the Elvenking's chambers. Entering the receiving room, he asked Sulros if he knew the reason for it.
"The king wishes to be easily reached," he said with a cryptic smile. But Sulros, efficient despite his occasional frivolity, soon ushered the general through the door to the king's office.
"Welcome home, sire," Cembeleg said, his affection for the Elf obvious through his gruffness.
"Thank you, General," Thranduil answered, and beckoned him into the chair opposite the desk. "First, I wish to thank you for your aid in assigning Elluin a guard during my return journey."
"Of course, sire. There were many volunteers."
"Indeed," Thranduil answered, obviously pleased. Then he raised his right hand and turned a forthright glance to his companion to say, "We are trothplighted."
"Congratulations, sire," the general said with a genuine smile. "I wish you both every happiness."
After a gracious response, Thranduil again turned serious. "We must speak of a change in my silent guards."
"My king, are you unsatisfied with their service?"
"No," he was quick to reassure. "But I think they should now be assigned to Elluin."
Cembeleg blinked. "I cannot allow you to travel unprotected, sire."
"Then appoint new guards for me," Thranduil countered easily. "The guards with the most experience should go to my lady, who is more of a healer than a warrior."
Cembeleg nodded his agreement as he considered. "As you wish, sire," he relented, performing quick calculations to accommodate such an abrupt shift. "I have a few candidates in mind. When will the change take place?"
"Immediately," the Elvenking said.
Cembeleg could not avoid his eyes widening slightly in surprise. "...Very well, sire," he said with some hesitancy. "If I may request that the king remain inside the palace, then, until I can arrange for a test—"
"I do not mean to inconvenience you, General," Thranduil said with an open expression. "But I was recently reminded, all too clearly, of what could have happened if some ill were to befall my lady. I know you have taken measures for her to be escorted while I have been gone, but… I need to know she is well protected, on a permanent basis."
"I see, sire." His look was sympathetic. "I shall do as you say."
The conversation moved to the topic of the border. Cembeleg detailed his accommodations for the joint Man-Silvan hunt that was due to take place. Then they spoke of what measures should be taken now that Thranduil had abandoned his tour of the outposts. Near the end of their discussion, they heard a muted joyful exclamation in the antechamber. Both recognized Sulros' voice, dismissing the interruption and continuing their conversation.
Soon enough, there was a knock on the office door.
"Enter," Thranduil called as Cembeleg rose. Then he watched in astonishment as Thranduil's face broke into a look of infatuated awe.
Elluin came in, a little shyly, holding a tray with paper, ink, and quills. "I did not mean to interrupt—" she began.
Thranduil waved off her comment. "You are welcome here, my lady," he said warmly. Cembeleg, hiding a grin, briskly set a chair at the end of the desk for her, then stood awaiting orders.
Elluin settled herself somewhat awkwardly, the tray held in her lap.
"General, please be seated and tell Lady Elluin what we have discussed regarding the transfer," Thranduil said.
Cembeleg obeyed and turned to her with a bow of his head. "My lady, you will have an escort of silent guards whenever you leave the palace. These soldiers have been trained most extensively by myself and the king, and are sworn to protect their charge with their lives. They have been protecting my king since he took the crown."
Elluin looked at Thranduil, surprised. "What of you?" she asked him.
"I will have new ones," he said with a warm smile.
Cembeleg was struck again by the obvious tenderness on the king's features.
Elluin nodded her understanding, then asked with a grin, "How many extra apples will I have to pack on our outings?"
Thranduil chuckled merrily and took her hand affectionately while Cembeleg tried not to let the confusion show on his face at that remark.
"There will be ten between us, my thoughtful lady," he told her.
"Can I meet them?"
Thranduil and Cembeleg suddenly became very still. The general looked a little uncertainly at the king, and received a small nod.
"My lady, the identities of the silent guard are generally kept secret," Cembeleg explained. "This is to reduce the risk of an evil force capturing them, or someone with knowledge of them, with the purpose of obtaining information that would lead the king to harm. They tend to live reclusive lives during the few times their services are not required."
Elluin's face had fallen as Cembeleg spoke, but Thranduil quickly cut in. "You will meet them," he told her. "The Elvenqueen has every right to know her protectors."
Joy returned to the elleth's eyes.
"It will be a special moment," Cembeleg ventured.
"After the evening meal?" Thranduil asked them both.
At Elluin's nod, Cembeleg saluted. "It shall be arranged, sire."