Chapter Four
The sound of a crying baby woke Ayla as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and then sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and her feet touching down on soft grass. Rising up to stand she began to walk forward through the woods lit by the light of the full moon, following the sound of the baby's cries. She continued through the woods until it gradually faded away to a barren path leading up into the familiar volcano of Mt. Doom, the crying was getting louder, echoing all around her as she continued forward up the path and through the mouth of the volcano's cavern. She walked through the great hall that led to the ledge where Sauron's anvil stood, overlooking the pit of molten lava. She could feel the overbearing heat already stinging her skin and making her sweat as she approached the anvil and seeing her son; her beautiful baby boy wrapped up in the crocheted blanket she had made for him. His small limbs wiggling as he continued crying. Ayla lurched forward, her heart swelling with hope as she outstretched her arms and lifted her son up, ready to press him close to her bosom when he suddenly vanished.
A trail of gold dust slipping through her fingers.
Hot tears pricked at her eyes, mingling with the sweat that dripped down her face. Her heart immediately breaking again when she heard his deep voice from behind her, calling her name so seductively. The cold grip of fear pierced through her body, dousing the heat produced by the volcano as she slowly turned around to face him. His beautiful face was obscured by a black shadow, with only a pair of flaming red eyes visible. He reached out suddenly with his hand, gripping Ayla by the neck and she let out a scream as she fell out of her bed, her knees and left shoulder hitting the stone floor painfully.
She let out a pained hissed, her foggy mind quickly finding purchase that it was just a dream and that she was on the cold floor. Ever so slowly she picked herself up, her skin sticky with sweat as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed to gingerly rub her poor shoulder and knees. It was going to leave a sore bruise. Ayla took a moment to process her dream as her racing heart slowly returned to its normal pace. It was obvious that she will never get over what had happened, how such a horrifying event had shaped her presently. Her heart was still broken and even though she has taking comfort in Thranduil's presence she was terrified of what it could lead to. She couldn't allow herself to indulge in the patience and kindness he had shown her because she feared what Sauron would do once he discovered her location.
She didn't want the elves to become casualties of war because of her. She wanted to spare them. They have done nothing to provoke Sauron's ire, and the thought of Thranduil or Kwenthrith dying because of her…she needed to leave. Go as far away as possible, but to where? How would she even survive? Perhaps the easiest solution would be to simply kill herself, and Sauron will know of her passing immediately through their bond. He will feel it break and he will know and then the world will be safe.
The image of her son's essence becoming one with Sauron's ring came to mind and her heart sank. The ring…so long as it existed Sauron will have the power to dominate the western lands of Middle Earth. A ball of dread sat heavy in the pit of her stomach as Ayla realized that regardless of what she did it would have no impact on Sauron's grander goal. It was childish of her to think that she was his only concern. Sauron obviously had no further use of her and would probably have killed her himself since he got what he wanted from her. She was of no importance but then why send his scouts after her?
Her mark ached and she brought a hand up to trace over it with her fingertips and for just a moment she indulged herself to wonder if Sauron had ever loved her. Yes, he had obviously cared for her, he must have, he had shown a side to him that showed Ayla that he still had a bit of humanity within him. She would be lying to herself to say that Sauron was never good to her. Yes, he was controlling, and he had gotten rough with her when they were in the throes of passion but he had never beaten her like some alphas do to their omegas. Looking back, he had manipulated her many times, but he also pampered her whenever they were together. He also never lost his temper with her; he had always been surprisingly patient though careful to steer their conversation whenever Ayla began to question things.
When Ayla had been kidnapped by the Avari and raped by their chief Sauron had come to her rescue, slaughtering the entire tribe from what she understood. He even took it upon himself to nurse her back to health, comfort her in a way that only a mate could. He never forced her into intimacy until she had felt ready. He had listened and praised her for protecting her neck. He had been the ideal mate and Ayla had truly fallen in love with him, even proclaiming her love to him. He had never said the same words in return, had never acknowledged that he felt the same but at that time Ayla didn't mind because she was in love and knew her mate cared and provided for her.
It had been enough.
It had been a beautiful illusion.
And then the illusion had shattered after witnessing the death of her son.
The reality of her place in Sauron's world was realized when he sweetly told her that they will make more children for her "to keep."
It had dashed away her girlish hopes of "Happily Ever After."
Something inside her that day died.
That something was the love she had for her mate and in its place birthed an ugly seed of resentment and bitterness.
Ayla rubbed at her mark, the ache gradually receding. So long as the scar existed and so long as Sauron was alive, she would never be truly free.
She will forever be hunted so long as Sauron had power.
She was frightened of Thranduil finding out who her mate is. Who she really is. It had been a well kept secret that Ayla had the gift of foresight, only her family knowing about it but it did beg the question of how Sauron knew of her gift. Had it been brought up by her father when negotiating the peace treaty? Was that why he so willingly gave her up to their enemy? Was that all she was good for? A bargaining chip? If the Elvenking found out about her gift would he use her, too, for their own gain? Would Thranduil sit back and let it happen?
Was this what the Arda had intended for her? A lifetime of heartache and misery? To forever be looking over her shoulder?
"How miserable." she whispered hoarsely into the darkness of her room, a single tear falling down her cheek.
xxxxx
Since that day Thranduil nearly force-fed Ayla, he had taken it upon himself to join Ayla for every meal. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and any leisure time in between for snacks. He was determined to see Ayla gain weight, and he did not care that his father disapproved of his only son, a prime alpha, spending so much time with an unknown claimed omega. Thranduil only cared about Ayla's wellbeing, and sitting with her as they ate together made the prince feel whole and content. Not to mention how pleased he was to see her willingly eat on her own. He took note how Ayla would avoid the meat, the only source of protein she willingly ate were eggs and fish while she mostly just ate the vegetables and grain.
After a week of eating together he noticed a change in Ayla, she had more energy and was out of bed more often. She still tensed up whenever he touched her but when he would purr for her she would relax. He wanted her to become familiar with his touch, with his scent, with his presence. Just as much as he wanted the same for her. Thranduil was not in any way patient, and he eagerly craved Ayla to acknowledge him in any way, living off the hope that she will see him as her Fated alpha. The smallest of touches and every little smile aimed at him made his inner beast hum in pleasure, making that need, that craving for his omega ever so much stronger.
Kwenthrith answered the door to Ayla's room after Thranduil knocked; entering after the beta stepped aside and opened the door wider for him. The omega's scent filled the room with her sweet aroma that made the prince think of cool spring mornings, it caused a stirring in the alpha's lower belly, making him crave ever more. The prince's eyes immediately landed on Ayla, sitting out on the balcony with her eyes closed and her face tilted up towards the sky, soaking in the warmth from the sun. Thranduil paused at the beautiful image Ayla had created, looking so peaceful and tantalizing at the same time. Kwenthrith sidled up beside Thranduil, her hands clasped politely in front of her.
"It is a lovely day, why don't you invite her to have lunch out in the gardens?" Kwenthrith suggested, having been watching the two for the past week making doe-eyed looks at each other. Quite honestly she was tired of it and she needed an opportunity to air out the room and have the servants change the bedding.
"Yes, that's a grand idea." Thranduil said, walking over to Ayla. "Are you enjoying the warm day?" he asked softly, getting Ayla's attention as she lowered her head and slowly opened her eyes. His breath caught in his throat, the way her turquoise eyes shown had made his heart flutter and he wanted to so badly take her in his arms and kiss her.
Ayla blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the light before focusing on Thranduil, smiling up at him as she nodded her head. He smiled back as he offered her his hand.
"Would you like to have lunch in the garden today?" he asked.
Ayla's smile brightened up, reaching her eyes as they creased ever so slightly. "Yes, I would like that." she said, her voice still a bit raspy as she took his offered hand and standing up. Thranduil's eyes widened and his jaw going slightly slack. She had talked. She finally spoke.
"Your voice…" he breathed out.
Ayla's cheeks turned lightly pink as she shyly looked down. "Yes, it is a bit hoarse. It will get better, I'm sure."
He gently took hold of her chin and lifted her face up to look at him as he smiled gently down at her. "It is more beautiful than I imagined it would sound."
The color in her cheeks darkened at his flattering words. "Thank you, my lord."
"Call me by name. Please." he said, wanting to hear his name spoken from the omega he pined for.
She shyly smiled, "Thank you…Lord Thranduil."
Thranduil had to suppress a moan at the sound of his name leaving her lips, forcing himself to release her chin and take a step back. He had to be careful around her, even with Kwenthrith nearby, if his restraint faltered even just a little it would be the end of his sanity. His rut was looming in the horizon, always approaching at the beginning of the fall season and he worried that being this close to Ayla with his rut so near would simply trigger him into it early. Yet he couldn't resist the temptation of being near her.
"I will have the servants arrange to set up a table in the garden." Kwenthrith said, knowing fully that she was interrupting as she stepped out onto the balcony. "My lady, let me assist you in changing before you head out." she suggested, giving the prince a meaningful look.
Thranduil took the hint, suppressing an aggressive growl as he nodded his head. Along with his approaching rut came the side effect of his alpha showing aggression, the need for dominance and the urge to mate becoming stronger the closer it came. "I will meet you in the garden."
After Thranduil left the room Kwenthrith had gone to the wardrobe to pull out a new dress for Ayla to wear. A sea foam green dress with a flowing skirt with a high neckline to hide Ayla's mating mark, knowing that Ayla was self-conscious of it. The beta was ever mindful of making sure that the omega felt comfortable and to not worry when in the presence of another alpha. Kwenthrith had made sure that the servants that came and went in Ayla's presence were all betas. Omegas were rare among elves, to the point that when one was born they were protected fiercely like a dragon's hoard. The only famously known omega elf that Kwenthrith knew about was Galadriel in Lothlorien, all other omega elves would normally wear a collar around the necks to protect themselves from being bitten and marked.
Kwenthrith helped Ayla change into the new gown and frowned when it fit too loosely around her waist, prompting the beta to huff softly. She reminded herself to be patient and not adjust the dresses because Ayla was still recovering and gaining back a healthy weight will take time. Sitting Ayla down at the vanity she began to comb her dark hair and putting it into a simple fishtail braid.
"Thank you, Kwenthrith." Ayla said softly, startling the beta out of her thoughts as she met the turquoise gaze in the mirror. Kwenthrith had been overjoyed that morning when Ayla greeted her with her hoarse voice, and knew that the prince will feel the same.
She smiled at Ayla's reflection. "You are most welcome, my lady. Now let us be off, I am sure the prince is most anxious to see you again."
xxxxx
A table had been set up for them in the garden under partial shade. It was Ayla's first time venturing out of her room and she was in awe at the beauty of the architecture. It was a far cry from the darkness in Mordor with the bare halls that echoed with each step she took, or the deafening emptiness of the rooms she would explore. Everything in the Woodland Realm was the opposite. Open-aired walkways, natural lighting, people. Nothing here suggested loneliness and desolation. It was…more comforting of a thought to know that she was not alone. Even better was that every face she passed wasn't some grey hollow husk of a creature that frightened her no matter how much time had passed.
Thranduil was waiting for her, smiling warmly. It made the butterflies in Ayla's stomach flutter with excitement.
A servant pulled out a chair for Ayla as another servant did the same for Thranduil as the two sat down at the table. Their meals were brought to them, roast chicken breast over a bed of rice and steamed vegetables. Taking her fork, Ayla pushed the chicken to the edge of her plate and focused on the rice and vegetables and it did not go unnoticed by Thranduil.
"I have noticed that you do not eat much meat." Thranduil said, "Please, let myself or Kwenthrith know what you prefer to eat and it will be done."
Ayla looked up from her plate at him, a bit confused by his question when she realized that her aversion to meat was not known by him. "I don't have the stomach for it; never have actually. I can tolerate fish and eggs but I normally just steer clear of meat of any kind."
"I did not know that. I will have Kwenthrith inform the kitchen staff." Thranduil said.
"Thank you, I would hate to waste food." Ayla said, "Actually, would you like my chicken, since I won't be eating it?" she offered.
Thranduil smiled and pushed his plate across the small table to her and Ayla transferred the meat onto his plate. It turned into a pleasant time for them both, as they spoke and conversed. Thranduil found it so much easier to just talk with Ayla and have her finally have a conversation instead of asking simple questions and waiting for her to write down her replies. It felt more natural this way, more freeing and he learned so much more about her.
"I enjoyed painting when I still lived in Gondor. My mother encouraged my interest in the arts." Ayla said with a light smile on her lips. Their meal had long been finished and the plates cleared away, leaving the two of them to enjoy the warm day.
"What else do you enjoy doing? Other hobbies?" Thranduil asked.
"I also enjoy reading, although it has been some time since I have been able to enjoy a good book." Ayla said, hesitating a moment before continuing. "My...mate…he did not have many books of interest to me." It was only half the truth. Sauron had a massive library of books but only a handful of them were written in the common western language while the rest were in languages she could not read. She had once asked Sauron for a tutor so that she may read more from the library but Sauron had told her that it would be impossible because the books were all written in a dead language. Looking back she knew that had been a lie. She clearly recalled seeing elven and dwarven scripts within the pages of some of the books. On top of that Sauron had turned down her request for him to teach her, which, looking back had been another clue amongst the growing list of things her mate had purposefully denied her and manipulated her into thinking that she could go without.
Kept secrets from her.
The list of lies and deceit only getting longer in her mind.
"Our library here is quite large and many of the books are written in the common tongue. If you are interested I can arrange for a tutor to help you learn the elven language so that you are not limited to what you can enjoy from the library." Thranduil said.
Ayla smiled brightly. "I would like that very much!"
"Let me take you there," he said and then paused for a moment. "Unless you are feeling tired?"
Ayla shook her head. "Not at all. I want to see the library."
xxxxx
The library was a bit of a walk from the garden where they had lunch together, just giving Ayla a rough idea of just how large the elven palace was. When they arrived she was awestricken by the sheer size of the place. Well lit with natural lighting coming in through the massive windows. From wall to wall and floor to ceiling, three stories high, were lined with so many books that Ayla was sure that she would never read them all in her lifetime. The library was furnished with beautiful chase lounges, couches, tables and desks. There was even a spot in a quiet nook decorated with soft furs and plush pillows.
Thranduil enjoyed seeing how excited and amazed Ayla was, finding her reaction refreshing as he felt as though he was seeing the world anew through her eyes. He watched as she perused through the wall of books, tomes and scrolls. He saw how she pulled out a book from the shelf and opened it with such care, her eyes gliding over the paragraphs.
"You may come here as often as you want," he said softly, coming to lean a shoulder against the wall of books as he looked at her. "But only with an escort, I don't want you to get lost."
Ayla smiled up at him. "Thank you again. I'm rather eager to see what you have here."
"Take as much time as you please." he said, though in truth all Thranduil wanted to do was to push her up against the shelves and ravish her thoroughly. His inner beast was pacing with impatience, gnashing its aching teeth, wanting to sink them into the supple flesh of her neck and mark her, claim her as his and erase all traces of her current mate.
How he wished to act on those primal impulses.
Thranduil's research into alpha and omega bonds had brought up many unproven theories about breaking current bonds to form new ones. Many scrolls he had read about bonded omegas accepting another alpha's bite often resulted in that omega getting very sick and ultimately dying. He tried looking up on fated pairs and soulmates only to come across nothing but fairytales and romantic novels. Nothing concrete.
Ayla could have spent all afternoon and well into the evening in the library, having found so many interesting books that she was eager to start reading. Unfortunately she had to be mindful of the company she was with and only took a few books to read in her room. Thranduil carried them for her as they walked back towards her room when an elf that looked like Thranduil approached them.
He looked like a much older version of Thranduil, though his expression was impassive and air about him cool. He was dressed handsomely in such rich material of black, gold, and brown; with a silver circlet resting across his forehead. His sharp gaze landed on Ayla, making the omega cast her eyes downward and trying to make herself appear as small as possible. She had heard tales of the Elvenking of Greenwood, that he was a cold and calculating ruler who was suspicious of outsiders. Most tales about the elves of the Woodland Realm were rather dark, though Ayla had yet to see any of those tales being true. Even now, standing before such a powerful alpha, she had yet to witness if the tales of the Elvenking's dislike towards humans are true.
Will he eat her heart?
Will he drink her blood in a potion to prolong his life?
There were many wild stories that Ayla was sorting through in her head that she nearly missed it when he spoke in the elven tongue that she could not understand and saw from her peripheral vision that Thranduil had stiffened up beside her. Clearly whatever had just been said had put the prince on edge as he replied back, his tone controlled but biting. Ayla dared to peek up at the Elvenking he cast a rather disdainful look her way before he walked past them.
Thranduil placed a warm hand to the small of her back and gently pushed her to start walking.
They were silent for the rest of the way back.
xxxxx
Ayla's health was up and down due to the physical distance of her mate, bedridden some days with a low-grade fever. Kwenthrith and Thranduil were patient with her, at the very least, and always so kind towards her.
Thranduil had gifted her with blank canvases of varying sizes, brushes and fresh paint. It had been a gift that Ayla did not squander as she passed her time painting. It helped her work through some of her past trauma, painting her home, the places she had been to and seen. Some of her work she did at night when she was restless or had woken from a bad dream about her painful experiences. These works she kept covered under linen sheets against a wall, images of faces that used to haunt her until the paintings were completed and her mind less burdened.
She had no desire to share them with anyone.
Especially not with Thranduil.
Her past must remain hidden.
However…
The Elvenking Oropher had visited her one afternoon while Thranduil was away patrolling the borders. He had dismissed Kwenthrith to give them privacy, much to Ayla's discomfort as she wished to keep at least one ally in the room with them. Ayla had been painting again, this time it was a painting of her mother, going by memory. It was not yet halfway completed and Ayla took many small breaks to recollect what her mother had looked like but now her current work had to wait as Oropher slowly looked at each of her paintings. His face giving away nothing as he gazed at the canvases while Ayla sat nervously at her easel watching him.
The Elvenking was well aware of his son's impulsiveness and reckless behavior, often times giving him quite the mess to clean up to avoid any political discord. Though he was surprised to have learned that his son had brought home an injured and sickly omega; what was more is that this omega was also a bonded runaway. He had expected for the omega to simply die from being away from her mate but it has nearly been a month, and the omega was showing signs of recovery despite the odds. On top of that his foolhardy son has appeared to be enamored by this runaway, spending too much time with her and boldly showing affection in front of witnesses.
When he had happened upon them returning from the direction of the library he had immediately sensed that the omega was a prime. A rarity even among omegas. Under normal circumstances the Elvenking would not have been opposed to his son courting a prime omega knowing that such a union will bear strong alpha children. But this was in no way a normal circumstance. This prime omega has already been claimed by another alpha and regardless of the reason for her running away the scar on her neck is proof that her alpha still lives.
A true shame.
Oropher could see that Ayla was a talented artist, painting wonderful pictures of what he recognized as Minas Tirith and Osgiliath, giving him the impression that she was from Gondor. Landscapes of the Misty Mountains and even paintings of the view from out her window told him that she had an eye for details. His eyes then caught sight of the canvases off to the far wall, covered by linen sheets. He approached them and reached out to uncover them, hearing the chair Ayla was sitting on scrapping against the floor and her startled intake of breath when he pulled the sheets off to reveal the hidden artwork. His blue eyes widened at the scenes painted on the canvases.
Each one emitting such strong, intense emotions of wonder, sadness, fear and anger. Showing a world of mystery, darkness and pain. One painting made him pause. It was of an elven man with dark coppery skin, black hair, and captivatingly topaz colored eyes. This portrait was dark with a dark red and black background, the subject facing forward towards the onlooker with an intense gaze. Oropher immediately recognized the subject as one of the Avari, also known as dark elves who lived in the eastern lands beyond Mordor. No mere human, not even one from Gondor could have possibly come across an Avari unless they were actually in Rhun. Oropher had only ever encountered the Avari once in his youth, and that single encounter had forever been engrained in his memory and seeing this painting of one had brought it back.
There was a smaller canvas the size of a book with the picture of a newborn infant wrapped in a woven blanket and surrounded by gold. The baby, he could hazard to guess, must not have survived or was still with her mate if it had been a painting of her offspring. Among these hidden paintings were pictures of markets with bright, vibrant colors and the people dressed extravagantly in jewels and brightly dyed clothes. Foreign lands with foreign people of foreign origin. This omega clearly had traveled beyond the borders of Middle Earth to the Eastern lands of Rhun; she must have in order to paint such scenes of a culture unknown to him.
Then he saw it.
The very last one hidden behind the portrait of the Avari. A portrait of a man that was both beautiful and sad. A man that Oropher recognized immediately as he turned to look at Ayla who stood petrified, her turquoise eyes wide in fear. It had become clear to him just who Ayla was at that very moment. How the Fates have seemed to favor him in a strange way.
"Princess Ayla, daughter of King Elendil of Gondor." he said, turning around to fully face her, seeing the way she stiffened up at being found out. He caught wind of fear coming off of the omega as her true identity was revealed. "I had heard the news of the treaty your father managed to secure with Mordor by giving you away to our greatest enemy. It had clearly been a desperate move on your father's part."
Her lower lip quivered. "Pl-please…d-don't send me back." she begged, her voice shaking.
Oropher frowned at her, the scent of her fear getting stronger. Too bitter for his sensitive nose. "Rumor has it that your mother was gifted with the power of foresight and had passed along that gift to her daughter. Is such a rumor true?"
"I…" Ayla hesitated, afraid to tell the truth but more afraid of being cast out and found by Sauron's scouts. "Yes." she finally said in a hushed breath.
"And how does such a gift work?"
She licked her lips to wet them, her mouth feeling dry and her throat tightening, threatening to constrict her voice. "I will get visions," Ayla said in a small voice, her eyes cast down as she was once again unable to meet his stare. "Flashes of events that might happen. The picture is more clearer in my dreams."
"Do you get these visions often?"
"No, my lord. They only appear to me at random."
"Why did you run away?"
Ayla flinched at that last question, her eyes briefly flicking up to the small canvas of the infant; the painful memory resurfacing. The hot sting of tears came to her eyes at the memory. "He…he killed our son."
The loss of a child could hardly be deemed enough of an excuse for an omega to runaway from their alpha, but the way she had worded it—"He killed our son."—Sauron's cruelty and evilness would not stop short of killing his own offspring in the pursuit of power. The very fact that Ayla had said it liked that yet painted something so hauntingly beautiful made no sense to the Elvenking, unless…
"Are you still in love with him?"
Ayla hesitated before answering. "He broke my heart."
"Was he aware of your gift?"
She nodded her head, feeling her voice was going to fail her.
"And he searches for you now, I presume?"
She nods again.
"Such a gift in enemy hands will be the doom of us all in Middle Earth. Why did you not run back home to Gondor?"
"I…" Ayla's voice cracked, her anxiety rising and constricting her throat. In truth she did not want to run back home to her father and brothers. She knew that her return would not be welcomed and the cruel words of her father: "You are no longer of Gondor" had become a barbed fence in her mind, an invisible wall that prevented her from crossing the border to her birthplace. Had she gone back to Gondor they would have surely broken both her legs and send her back to Mordor out of fear of war. Of course, Ayla knew that the truce had been nothing more than a lie on Sauron's end, his true goal was to use her powers and the soul of their first born. Even without her at his side, Sauron had completed his goal of creating the Ring of Power and it was only a matter of time before he waged war on the western world.
In the end she was nothing more than a pawn on the chess board that had been sacrificed in exchange for someone else's gain.
Oropher was running out of patience for a response and he had come to a decision. "Regardless of your reasons you are here now. Your gift of foresight is invaluable and will serve the Woodland Realm well against our enemies in Mordor."
Ayla looked up at the Elvenking, not at all surprised that he would use her to his advantage. Because that was what men, alphas, did in the end—use her as a pawn in their games of chess. It was all for their selfish reasons.
It made her heart feel cold.
"Does Thranduil know about you? About your gift and your past?"
She shook her head.
"Good. It will remain a secret between the two of us. I will tell him in time but for now you will remain as our guest so long as you keep your omega tendencies to yourself. I will not allow my son to pair with a claimed omega, regardless of how much he has come to care for you. Should you go against my words then I will personally cut off your head."
It was a punch to the chest to be threatened in such a way. To be ordered to continue lying in exchange to continue living like this, and the price? To lock away her heart. The Arda's gift was not meant to be abused in such a way, Ayla was sure of it, and as much as she wished to voice her disapproval she could not because before this alpha she had no voice, no power, nothing. It was Ayla's disadvantage and Oropher pounced on the opportunity, knowing that she had nowhere to go and no leverage against him. It was also his way of manipulating his son, warning Ayla to keep away from Thranduil at all costs. He will not risk his son's future by allowing him to take an omega who has been stained by evil.
Ayla had no choice but to accept the terms.
When Oropher left her room Kwenthrith quickly entered, closing the doors behind her before going straight to her mistress. Even as a beta she can smell how upset Ayla was and went to the omega, easing her back into the chair. She knelt down in front of Ayla, taking her trembling hands into her own as she looked up into the turquoise eyes that were quietly spilling tears. Her heart ached to see the omega in such despair and had feared the worst—that the Elvenking would be sending Ayla out of the Wooden Realm.
"Prince Thranduil will be back soon from his patrol. He will speak to his father King and will do whatever is necessary to keep you here. You have nothing to fear, my lady." Kwenthrith said, trying to sooth the omega though knew that as a beta she could not replicate what an alpha can do to calm her. A beta had weak pheromones and thus the best she could do was hug Ayla as if she were a frightened child.
Ayla shook her head and wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. "No…no Kwenthrith, it is nothing like that. His majesty is not sending me away." she said softly.
The beautiful elf maiden was confused. "I don't understand, are you upset because he is letting you stay?"
Ayla shook her head again. She trusted Kwenthrith, she knew the beta was aware of the attraction she had for Thranduil because the elf maiden was far too clever to not notice. "No, I am upset because I have been told that I am forbidden from giving my heart to the prince. This it must be locked away."
Kwenthrith's violet eyes widened in shock, looking quite affronted and it broke her heart for Ayla. She gripped both of Ayla's hands firmly in hers and looked up into her eyes with a fierce determination. "Listen to me, my lady, the Elvenking has no right to tell you what to do with your heart. If giving it to the prince will make you happy then do so because no one has the power to tell you who you can and cannot love; and I truly believe that you and the prince are meant to be. Why else would fate bring you together?"
Ayla felt a rush of relief come over her as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Kwenthrith's neck, burying her face into the golden locks. It was more than she could have hoped for to have at least one person on her side.
"I want to trust everything to you, Kwenthrith." she whispered, her voice trembling. "Can I trust you?"
Such a simple and open request. Kwenthrith was born a Silvan elf, considered to be of lowest among the different clans of elves. On top of that she was a beta of no special talents with no expectations to become more than what she is. It was almost expected of her to become a servant within the royal house, to keep her head down and to obey orders until the day she died. Kwenthrith had never had much ambition for herself, having become complacent with her lot in life until she was assigned to be the personal handmaiden to Ayla. It had been just another job for her but in time she had grown to care for the omega who was gentle and delicate and had clearly suffered unimaginable cruelty.
She felt rather protective of Ayla; much like a mother bear protects her cubs.
Now Ayla was asking if she can be trusted with her secrets and her heart swelled with pride.
"You have my word that I will never break your trust." Kwenthrith replied.
Ayla pulled back to look into Kwenthrith's violet eyes, seeing the sincerity that the beta would never break her trust. "I am Ayla, daughter of High King Elendil of Gondor."
Kwenthrith felt shaken to her core, knowing exactly who Ayla was, having heard the rumor of the King of Gondor sending his only daughter to Mordor for a truce in peace. When the rumors had reached the Woodland Realm the elves, especially King Oropher had balked, not trusting Mordor to keep their promise. Ayla being here, sitting in front of her, was proof that an attempt in peace was not going to be met.
"My…my lady, if that is true then…" Kwenthrith thought back to what Thranduil had told her when he found Ayla in the woods. She had been chased by warg riders, scouts of the enemy. Her eyes fell to the scar on Ayla's neck. "The Elvenking knows." Ayla nods her head. "What of the prince? Does he know?"
"No, he doesn't. His majesty has ordered my silence to Thranduil. He has bargained my safety for a steep price."
Kwenthrith felt the simmering of anger in her gut. "Yes, he ordered you to lock your heart."
"It's not only that but…he also knows that I have the gift of foresight like my mother had."
Again the elf maiden was shocked. "That is a heavenly gift, and to think your father knowingly gave that to the enemy…"
"Please, Kwenthrith, as my friend I ask that you not speak a word of this to Thranduil. I ask that you share this burden of knowledge with me because I don't want to feel alone anymore."
"Of course, my lady." Kwenthrith said quickly, eager to prove that she was more than just a beta. More than just a servant. She was eager to prove that she was worthy of this friendship that Ayla was giving. "I will gladly carry this burden and any future burdens for you."
"No, Kwenthrith, you will not carry any of this on your own. We will carry it together. As friends."
It was now Kwenthrith's turn to feel a sense of overwhelming emotion flooding through her body as tears welled up in her beautiful violet eyes. She had lived for centuries and not once had anyone ever called her a friend or offered to share such kinship with her, a lowly Silvan elf of no great talent or skill. Yet this small, beautiful human, offered it freely.
"Yes. Yes, we are friends. I will gladly share this burden and keep your secrets."
"Thank you, Kwenthrith. I am relieved and I feel much lighter now that I have someone I can confide my trust in."
xxxxx
The deceit had to continue but it did not eat away at Ayla's soul as it had previously. Now that Kwenthrith was in the know about her past and her true identity revealed, Ayla's heart felt less heavy though if only by a fraction. The weight of her many secrets, including being blackmailed by Oropher, had efficiently chained her to the Woodland Realm. The "key" to her freedom was revealing the truth and willingly giving her heart to Thranduil; but even then that was one side of a double-edged sword because telling Thranduil the truth did not guarantee that she would be safe from the Elvenking's wrath.
Yes, coming to terms about her growing attraction to the handsome alpha was more than just primal instincts. It was as if she had walked into one of the romantic tales the bards and poets would sing about in the busy thoroughfare of Minas Tirith, of star-crossed lovers, an alpha and omega, finding each other by fate. It was hard to deny that Ayla had ran so far from Mordor, happening upon Thranduil during his patrol of the border by chance and then being brought to his kingdom without speculating the circumstances. His gentle kindness fed her soul and made her heart flutter with giddiness. She couldn't explain this natural feeling of easiness around the prince at first, but as time passed she had to wonder. Even back when she first met him in the woods she did not feel any sense of fear nor had any rational reason to distrust him.
She had instinctually trusted him.
Like it had been the Arda guiding her to him.
As if Fate brought them together.
But Fate can also be very cruel.
And her experiences of the world had jaded her and she had to strictly remind herself that everything comes with a price.
Despite that, his presence made her inner omega feel safe and content. His earthy scent calming her anxiety and doubts. But she couldn't allow herself to hope to love him and have her feelings returned. She was still very much afraid of Sauron finding her, sending out his fearsome Generals to find her. She could not send word to her father, afraid of her message being intercepted by one of Sauron's spies; or of it getting to her father and brothers and they demand that she return to Mordor. Yet staying in the Woodland Realm has now become less hospitable thanks to Oropher and his threat of death by beheading should she reveal the truth to Thranduil. She prayed to the Arda every day and night, hoping they will send her a vision for a solution to the ever looming problems. Alas, her prayers for a solution did not come only more dreams of what was to come.
A great army marching towards the gates of Mordor. Fire spewing from Mt. Doom. Sauron in his menacing black armor, swinging his fearsome mace at the brave soldiers who got in his way as if he were swatting flies. The golden ring of power on his armored finger, glowing and weeping with the voices of the trapped souls.
The sound of an infant crying ringing the loudest.
Today she was out for a walk with Thranduil, going at a slow, leisure pace as they talked and enjoyed each other's company. But with a respectable space between them. Ayla could not allow herself to have hope. She could not allow herself to fall more in love. She was already a claimed omega. She was the mate of their enemy. She did not deserve Thranduil no matter how much her heart desired the handsome elven prince.
She had to turn her heart to stone.
She told herself that it was for his sake.
For his sake…
"You seem to be distracted today." Thranduil said, having been observing Ayla and the way she would worry on her bottom lip or unconsciously wring her hands as she looked lost in thought. Her health was gradually returning to her, her cheeks taking on a healthier color, though Thranduil would prefer that Ayla would gain more weight as she was still far too thin.
She looked up at him, meeting his sky blue eyes before looking away with a flush to her cheeks. She wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth, that she had the gift of foresight; that she is the daughter of King Elendil, that she had been bargained away like livestock to Mordor for a truce that had been made under false pretenses, that she knows that Sauron has been amassing an army to invade the West. She wanted to confess that the alpha who claimed her, the mate she had ran away from, was Sauron. And that she was falling in love with Thranduil, but she was afraid of him rejecting her if he ever knew the truth. She was afraid of his father making good on his threat if she confessed. Instead of all of that she said: "Forgive me, my lord. I suppose my old habits of getting lost in my own thoughts have been coming up once more."
"Anything you are willing to share with me?" he asked, watching Ayla bite her bottom lip as she turned her turquoise eyes back up to him.
"I'm just…worried. I'm afraid of my mate finding me." Ayla said softly, turning her gaze away once more, unable to look Thranduil in the eye while speaking of her mate in his presence.
Thranduil reached out and took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of her hand. "You are safe here; you have my word." His promise was meant to sooth her but it only made her mind feel muddled at best.
His touch sent a pleasant tingle up her arm, and she craved more of his warm touch but she had to shut it down. She pulled her hand from his. "Forgive me…I…"
Thranduil shook his head, hiding his disappointment. He had noticed Ayla was forcing distance between them, constantly hiding behind the fact that she was already claimed by another. But he knew, there was undeniable proof that she was falling for him, her scent was sweet and had the hint of arousal. It only made him want to confess his own growing affections and profess his desire and intentions towards her. His approaching rut making it harder for him to resist the urge to simply push the small omega up against a tree and have his way with her.
It took every ounce of self-control not to do just that.
"No, I should be the one asking for forgiveness. I should not have touched you so familiarly."
She hated herself for hiding behind her mating mark but it was the only shield she had to protect Thranduil. It was too dangerous.
Thranduil had noticed that Ayla seemed depressed as of late, her gentle nature seeming to have dulled ever so slightly. Her smile less luminous than usual when she looked at him. An idea then popped into the prince's head to lift Ayla's mood; a trip into the City of Dale which was just a few hours ride from the main gates. When he brought it up Ayla's demeanor shifted to one of excitement.
"Yes! I have heard such wondrous tales about Dale from travelling merchants." she said so eagerly, making the prince laugh. But then her excitement quickly crumbled as she realized the danger that would put them both in if one of Sauron's spies was lurking in the city. "But…what if…what if someone recognizes me?"
Thranduil frowned slightly. "Do you know anyone living in Dale?"
Ayla shook her head.
"Then you have nothing to worry about. I promise you that I will protect you. I will arrange for us to leave tomorrow morning." Thranduil said, "We will make a day of it."
Ayla reluctantly nodded.
xxxxx
Kwenthrith had fussed over Ayla to following morning, making the omega put on a heavier cape that was lined with silky rabbit fur and thick stockings to cover her legs beneath her dress. It was amusing how the beta mothered Ayla, making sure that not only was the omega dressed warmly but also made sure that the finer details on her were perfect and had even styled Ayla's hair into a Gibson tuck (which suited her). Kwenthrith added small decorations into Ayla's hair, pins with small white flowers made of opal.
"Dale is a trading city with people from all over stopping there to trade and rest. It would be in your best interest to stay close to Lord Thranduil." Kwenthrith said, now that she was in-the-know about Ayla's past and true identity only made the beta woman fret ever more. She was now too aware of the posing danger of Ayla leaving the sanctity of Greenwood.
Ayla just smiled and hugged the elf maiden. "Thank you for worrying about me. I promise to stay alert." she said, though a small part of her wanted to back out of the trip and stay in her room where she knew it would be safe.
When Thranduil saw Ayla arriving to the front gates with Kwenthrith trailing behind her, dressed so warmly that she looked demur in the fur-lined cape. The cool grey of the cape and the snow-white fur that lined her neck and shoulders contrasted perfectly against her fair complexion and dark hair. She was an image of purity that his inner alpha wanted to sully and knot.
Again he had to tamp down those urges. Already he had masturbated twice that morning to expend the excess energy in him.
"Good morning, my lord." Ayla greeted sweetly with a polished curtsy.
Thranduil bowed back with a smile on his lips. "My lady, you are quite the welcomed image this morning."
Ayla's cheeks flushed a nice hue of pink, her sweet scent reaching his nose and making his inner alpha growl with unbridled lust. Thranduil mounted his Great Elk and then held out his hand to Ayla so that he could help her up behind him. Even through their gloved hands he felt the electric tingle go up his arm at contact as he easily hoisted her up onto his mount behind him. Every cell in his body coming alive when he felt her thin arms hug his torso and her small frame pressing into his back, making his cock stir and tingle much to his chagrin. Judging from the strong smell coming from Ayla, she was also feeling the electricity between them as this was the most contact either of them had since their first encounter.
"Journey safely." Kwenthrith said, maintaining neutrality in front of witnesses as it was not her place to show preference as a servant to the crown.
Ayla smiled at her handmaiden. "Try not to be too lonely without me, Kwenthrith."
"I will stay occupied with other duties, my lady." Kwenthrith replied.
Thranduil kicked his heels into his steed after the gates had been opened and rode off down the road through the forest with a small guard right behind them on horses. At the fast pace they were riding Ayla had to hold on tightly to Thranduil, though she hardly minded as it was similar to riding on a horse versus a wyvern. At least if she were to fall she would not die hitting the ground.
Dale was a marvelous city, though not as grand like Minas Tirith with its towering white buildings and elegant tiled streets; Dale held up its own with its eclectic style. A little bit of everything thrown into its design. The main shopping district was lined with shops and merchants selling their wares that reminded Ayla much of the pavilion markets in the far east that Sauron had taken her to, but Dale was less grand and less colorful and did not smell of exotic spices. Yet Ayla was still intrigued as she looked around with excitement, happy to see people of all races and colors.
Thranduil was relieved to see Ayla's mood had lifted as they walked through the thoroughfare together. He indulged Ayla, letting her stop at every single stall that interested her, watching fondly as she admired the wares. He had a passing thought to perhaps commission the dwarves in Erebor to create a necklace made from lasgalen gems, the purest of gems that resemble starlight. He could just imagine them around Ayla's slender neck as he worshiped her body with his hands and mouth.
He shook himself out of such vulgar, seductive thoughts.
Soon, he told himself. He just had to keep reminding himself that he just needed to be patient. When he looked back to the last stall that Ayla had been perusing, he realized that she had gone missing and in a panic he looked back at his guard who had also noticed that Ayla was nowhere in sight.
"Find her!" he ordered, watching them scatter to search for the missing omega. Thranduil scented the air, picking up on Ayla's particular scent until he realized that it had been mixed with other scents that threw him off the trail before he even got started. Whoever had taken Ayla knew what they were doing and fear gripped itself tightly in his stomach as he scanned the market for her.
xxxxx
Ayla had been engaged in sifting through the many silks at the stall she had stopped at, feeling the materials and admiring the different colors and patterns. Some she even dared to think were actually imported from one of the eastern cities she had once visited but said nothing, pretending to remain naïve about the world beyond the west. Just as she was picking a few silks and turn to Thranduil for his opinion she had been suddenly grabbed with a hand over her mouth to muffle her voice and in a blink, she was suddenly in an empty alley of broken crates and a few stray rats.
She looked up at her captor with alarm, fear gripping her as she thought that Sauron's minions had finally found her until her capture removed their hood to reveal a familiar face. A face that made Ayla's stomach drop.