Chapter 20: Creating new memories

The next morning, Thranduil sat in the flet where he always watched the sun rise. He had slept poorly, mulling over yesterday evening’s conversations, so he arrived in the flet long before the first glow of light was to be found in the sky. Until the sun traveled over the horizon, he watched the stars. When the horizon was only beginning to brighten, he heard someone climbing up the ladder and frowned at that. Everyone knew he did not want to be disturbed in the mornings.

As the person climbing up approached the top, Thranduil spoke without moving from the cushion he was seated on. “You had better be here to inform me that we are being invaded…” he trailed off his threat as Lindomiel appeared and his expression showed that he was pleasantly surprised. “What are you doing here? Or awake this early for that matter?”

She smiled at him, straightening her gown from her climb. “Good morning to you too,” she said sarcastically.

He laughed and stood. Bowing slightly, he took her hand and escorted her to the cushions against the trunk of the tree. This flet was nothing more than a platform with some awnings that served no other purpose than to provide a beautiful view. It was unfurnished, save some cushions that someone had dragged up for one of their trysts. When she was comfortably seated, he settled himself next to her and kissed her hand. “Good morning, my lady,” he said with exaggerated politeness.

She smirked at him, looking at him from the corner of her eye before turning her attention to the sunrise. It was fiery red this morning. Some people thought a red sunrise spelt bad omen. She knew the sailors in the harbors at Belfalas had a saying: ‘Red in the morning, sailors take warning. Red at night, sailors delight.’ She thought such things were foolish. Anytime there was a beautiful sunrise or sunset, she enjoyed it.

Thranduil looked at the elleth seated next to him on the cushions. The pink light of the sunrise reflected off her skin, making it glow. It danced off her hair, glinting as if reflected off gold itself. Unable to stop himself, he reached over and ran his hand down the length of her hair softly.

At that, she turned from the sunrise and towards him.

“May I ask to what I owe the pleasure of your company this morning?” he asked, still smiling.

She gazed at him, a soft look in her eyes. “I was thinking about some things we said last night. I have told you several times that I would be perfectly happy with you here in Eryn Galen, yet you cannot seem to believe me. I grow bored of the conversation, so I thought perhaps I would show you in perfectly clear terms that my decision on this topic is made,” she whispered.

He raised his eyebrows in confusion.

“I told you last night that I thought you needed a little temptation and you told me once that this was a popular place for certain activities,” she said meaningfully.

His eyes widened with surprise, but also anticipation. He nodded silently, a smile slowly claiming his lips.

She reached up and traced her fingertips across his cheek.

He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath in response to the contact. Being in her mere presence since she arrived in Eryn Galen had awakened in Thranduil a yearning that he had never before experienced. His very soul longed for hers…was drawn to her. Every touch they had shared, as yet all fairly innocent, had served to intensify his desire. She had made her intentions quite clear and Thranduil admitted to himself that he could no longer deny her or himself. If she was certain of her decision, then he wanted this. Indeed knowing how intensely he wanted it, he only hoped that he could control himself in this secluded spot.

Encouraged that he had not tried to resist, Lindomiel ran her hand back into his hair, entangling her fingers in it and letting them run the length until they pulled free.

Valar how such a simple touch inflamed him! Opening his eyes, he reached for her hands and captured them. Holding them in one hand, he caressed her check with the other, drawing his hand across it and to the nape of her neck. He pulled her closer to him and his lips pressed against the cheek he had just caressed. Her eyes fluttered shut. His lips moved from her cheekbone lower to her jaw and across it. The kisses moved to the corner of her mouth, each one awakening in them a desire for yet another kiss…a more intimate one. Finally, she felt his lips press gently against her own. She responded with soft urgency, freeing her hands to put them around his neck. He put his arms around her waist and pulled her against him.

Her body was soft against his muscular chest…her skin warm and smooth as he ran his hands over her bare arms. He lost himself caressing her. His hands played softly up her arms and over her shoulders. For a moment he cradled her face as he rained kissed slowly across her cheek and jaw and on her lips. Then his hands slipped to her hair, fingers tangling in the long, thick locks.

Lindomiel reveled in his touch. She had waited for it long enough. The wait had been worth it. Her heart raced as he kissed her, beating in a strangely irregular pattern that left her breathless. As he caressed her delicately, almost reverently, she moved her hands across his back firmly pulling him close. He was a famed archer and his body reflected that. Muscular arms and chest and back. She felt those muscles harden as he drew her more firmly against him.

Both had kissed others before…but this kiss was much different. With it began the formation of a bond that they had acknowledged would be completed…the union of their fear. Two fear that sang completely in harmony. That made this contact much more intense than any other either had experienced. Much more deeply satisfying. Each caress strengthened the bond…nurtured it and them…drawing them closer to each other, giving them a sample of what the completed bond would be like. Intensifying their desire to see it completed.

It became increasingly apparent to Thranduil that a year’s betrothal would be an impossible thing. But something he nonetheless would comply with, for society demanded it. And if he were to do so, he would have to govern his behavior with Lindomiel over the next year very carefully. Starting now.

He pulled back and looked at her with awe, drawing a long, shuddering breath. She returned his gaze, mouth open slightly and breathing a little harder than normal. Thranduil turned his eyes from her face quickly, doubting his ability to prevent himself from kissing her again.

He was silent for a long moment, looking at the floor of the flet and breathing deeply. “Valar, Lindomiel, I cannot tell you how I love you,” he whispered with a rough voice.

She smiled. “And I love you,” she replied simply, placing a light kiss on his lips.

“Do you indeed?” he whispered.

She looked at him sharply. “Yes, I do. I do not see how I could make it clearer to you than I just did.”

He took a deep breath. “Then may I ask your adar for his permission for us to be betrothed?” he asked softly.

Her eyes lit up and she graced him with the radiant smile that he had fallen completely in love with. “Of course you may,” she breathed. Then she looked at him askance “Honestly Thranduil, you could not have possibly thought my response would be any different.”

He smiled. “I would not take your answer for granted, my lady.” He caressed her cheek. “But it is very good to have this settled.”

That elicited a playful look. “Settled? I think you have to speak to both your naneth and my adar,” she said teasingly.

Thranduil closed his eyes in mock dismay and a faint smile played on his lips. “Naneth is not blind. She has known my intentions for quite a long time. She loves you very much. She will not object.”

“Nor will my adar.”

Thranduil laughed lightly at that. “I hope you are right. I think he will have some objections, but none that cannot be overcome.” She raised her eyebrows and he laughed out loud. “Lindomiel he told me bluntly that he does not like me.”

She laughed at that as well. “Oh and he does not. He was not lying when he said that. You remind him far too much of himself.”

Thranduil sat back with an expression that could be described as nothing but insulted. “I am nothing like your adar,” he exclaimed.

She laughed even harder. “You are exactly like my adar. That is why you cannot get along. Which I find very funny because I know I am exactly like my adar as well.”

He looked at her sidelong. “Well if that is the case, it is a far more charming personality on you than it is him.”

She smiled and kissed him again. “You are hopeless, Thranduil. Love makes you quite foolish. Do you know that?”

He also smiled. “Perhaps. I think my advisors would agree with you at this point. But it also makes me happier than I can remember ever being. And my memory is very long, Lindomiel. After four millennia, it is quite…unsettling to experience something so entirely new and powerful.” He looked at her ruefully. “I have absolutely no idea how I am going to do any work today. I am going to be able to think of nothing but you.”

She grinned at him. “That is as it should be,” she said wickedly. Without another word, she rose and descended the rope ladder to the ground.

He watched her leave, laughing lightly.

*~*~*

Thranduil remained in the flet until well after sunrise before he felt he could leave and face his day. The reports and other paperwork that greeted him in his office seemed particularly bitter medicine that morning. His advisors could not help but laugh at him and he finally laughed with them. Not able to hide or deny his distraction, he dismissed them fully two hours earlier than he usually did with less than half the normal workload accomplished.

“My lady,” he said, addressing his mother. “Will you please stay a moment? I would like to speak with you if it would be convenient.”

Hallion looked at Thranduil hearing that request. Then he and the rest of the ruling council looked at Dieneryn. Dieneryn smiled, but kept her eyes downcast and remained seated as the other advisors stood and began to clear the room. The queen distinctly heard Celonhael mutter, ‘Thank the Valar,’ as he departed with Hallion. The steward’s response was a nod and whispered, ‘It is about time.’ Golwon could be heard saying, ‘Pray he is not going to talk to her about some household matter before you jump to conclusions,’ as they descended the stairs of the flet. Dieneryn struggled to stifle her laughter.

Thranduil intentionally ignored them. He maintained his silence and absently flipped through the various reports in front of him until he was alone with his mother.

“Have you finally decided to ask for her?” she asked the moment the room was empty.

Thranduil smiled and looked over at her. “Is it that obvious?” Then he glanced at the door through which the council had just departed. “I suppose that it is.”

“It could not be more obvious if you made a sign to wear around your neck, ion nin.”

He laughed. “And I assume you do not object? That we have your permission?”

“Of course I do not object. You have my permission and my blessings,” she said standing and coming to put her arms around her son. “I could not be happier for you. I am so thankful that you found someone to love and to love you. At your age I was afraid you never would and that would be more than I could bear.”

“At my age, naneth?” he repeated ruefully. “I am not some doddering old mortal ready to fall over at the next moment.”

She released him and stood over him with a long suffering look. “Thranduil most elves marry soon after they come of age…certainly when they are under two hundred. You are nearly four millennia old. You are ancient compared to Lindomiel.”

“Ancient and depraved,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “Parents are such a treasure.”

Dieneryn smirked at him, obviously curious about the second half of her son’s reference, but he continued before she could question him.

“My lifestyle has hardly been conducive to marriage, naneth. When I came of age we did not even have a roof over our heads. Do you see the difference in our ages as an issue?”

She looked at him sidelong. “I did initially, but now that I know her better, I do not. Obviously you do not see it as a problem?”

He shook his head. “I admit I did when I first met her. And sometimes I do see her actions as quite…a bit more playful than I would expect.” He smiled. “But that actually has a rather good affect on me. And she is intelligent. Despite her youth—or possibly because of it—I find her very interesting. I have discussed some of my past with her. She seems to accept and understand it and its impact. And she mentioned to me that she had spoken to you about what the lifestyle of the Queen of Eryn Galen might be like. I am satisfied that the difference in our ages will not be a barrier. But I think it is one of the several objections her adar has.” He grinned at her. “I do not think speaking with him will be a particularly pleasant experience.”

She grinned back. “Surely it is not going to be a complete surprise to him. He did not really come here for a full season just to visit me, you know. He came to give Lindomiel an opportunity to see if she wanted to live here.”

“And he has made it clear to me that he is quite disappointed that she likes Eryn Galen.” He paused and looked down. “But no, it will not be a surprise and I do expect he will agree. If for no other reason than I think he knows Lindomiel will simply bond with me without his permission.”

Dieneryn’s eyes widened. “That is a very bold statement, ion nin. Surely you prefer to have her adar’s consent?”

“Of course I do. And I will get his consent. But I know she would marry me without it. She is every bit as stubborn as her adar. Once she has made a decision, it is made and may the Valar help you if you try to oppose it.”

“Yes, indeed. I do agree that you and she are excellently matched. Assuming you do not kill each other.”

Thranduil raised his eyebrows. “Surely you are not implying that I am stubborn, naneth?” he asked with a mock indignant tone.

“You most certainly are and you come by it honestly.”

Thranduil nodded, acknowledging defeat. But there was a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Indeed. From both my parents.”

Dieneryn burst into laughter at that. “Well may the Valar have mercy on you then, ion nin. Because if you marry Lindomiel, your children will be just like you both. And children descended from you and Lindomiel, from me and Oropher, and from Amlgaur and Limmiel are going to be terrors.”

Thranduil joined her laughter. “Oh, ada told me many times I was destined to have a son just like me and he laughed wickedly every time he said it. Sounded like a threat, actually.”

Dieneryn shook her head. “When do you plan to speak to Amglaur?” she asked, refocusing the conversation.

Thranduil snorted and looked dramatically at the scattered paperwork on the table surrounding him. “Well we have accomplished so much recently. I see no need to hurry,” he said sarcastically. “I will speak to him tomorrow morning if you will help Hallion with the petitions. I need to get it over with as soon as possible so I can relax.”

She smiled a mother’s smile at her son. “I will take petitions with Hallion, ion nin. You do need to speak to Amglaur and get this settled before both you and your advisors go insane.”

*~*~*

Thranduil approached Amglaur’s flet the next morning with some trepidation after sending a servant to see if he was available to speak to him.

Amglaur naturally knew what this discussion would be about. And Lindomiel had made it very clear to him what his answer would be. ‘It is still my decision,’ he thought coldly as he waited for the king’s arrival.

Amglaur met Thranduil in the sitting room of the flet with a most serious expression on his face. Seeing it, Thranduil grimaced slightly, but he took heart when he noticed Limmiel was present as well. She at least smiled at him. He returned the smile gratefully and kissed the hand she offered him. At Amglaur’s invitation, Thranduil sat and all was silent for a long moment.

Impatient, Amglaur frowned. “You asked to speak to me, Thranduil. Do you have something to say?”

Thranduil noticed Limmiel sigh softly in reaction to her husband’s snappy mood. He returned Amglaur’s harsh gaze with as respectful an expression as he could muster. “Yes, my lord Amglaur. I would like to speak to you about your lady daughter.”

Amglaur’s posture stiffened further at this confirmation of the topic at hand. Thranduil could not suppress a quiet sigh. “My lord, Lindomiel and I would like your permission to be betrothed,” he stated directly.

Amglaur shook his head slightly. “I will admit, Thranduil, that I have not been completely disapproving of you personally during both your stay in Lorien and mine here. But I am not, as yet, convinced that I approve of the environment in Eryn Galen. And just because I do not disapprove of you, that does not mean I believe you are suitable husband for my daughter.” Amglaur replied in a cool but firm voice.

Thranduil did not visibly react. He had not expected Amglaur to immediately consent. “What is it that concerns you?” he asked evenly.

“First of all, I have seen the hostility some of your folk have towards Lindomiel. I am not certain everyone here would welcome her as their queen.”

Thranduil’s brows knitted together. He was truly surprised by that assertion. “I have heard no one say anything but the most positive comments about Lindomiel, my lord. She already has a good many friends amongst the people in my court. I sincerely do not have any idea to what you could possibly be referring.”

Limmiel snorted scornfully and answered before her husband could speak. “There are some jealous ellyth, Thranduil, as if that could be a surprise. And there was Tulus.” Her tone made it obvious that she did not agree with Amglaur that such topics need be considered.

Thranduil looked at Amglaur neutrally. Marti and Tulus. Thranduil had thought those topics were settled. In his mind, they were in the past and they would stay there. He decided to respond in a very general way to not provide an opportunity for more argument.

“I am the King of Eryn Galen, lord Amglaur. Everyone around me receives a good deal of attention due to that title. Not all of it is affable. That, unfortunately, is the nature of my station. Lindomiel is aware of that and has chosen to accept it. The general populace in Eryn Galen loves Lindomiel as I do. You have surely seen that. And you must know that I will never allow Lindomiel to be subjected to an atmosphere that is unpleasant.”

Amglaur scowled, but he did believe that. He decided to attack another topic that Thranduil’s answer had suggested. “Yes, Thranduil, you are the King of Eryn Galen. And your wife will be its Queen. That Queen will have too many responsibilities--managing your estate, ceremonial duties, diplomatic tasks. I do not want my daughter to marry a king and be a slave to his people.”

Thranduil surprised Amglaur by laughing wryly. “That I certainly understand, my lord. And you are correct. Whoever I marry will have more responsibilities than any other elleth in Eryn Galen. I served my adar’s realm for three millennia and I still have had trouble adjusting to the lifestyle of a king. But once again, Lindomiel has made the choice to accept that lifestyle. I have spoken with her about this topic. As I understand it, so has my naneth. She is aware of what she is agreeing to do.”

Amglaur frowned severely. “She is aware of what she is agreeing to do,” he repeated with an angry tone. “Yes, Thranduil, I am as well. I see very well what you gain—someone to run your household, someone to smooth your temper, someone to wait for you while you see to endless duties. I have seen many times the positive affect my daughter has on your personality. My question is--what do you bring to this relationship? That is what I simply do not see.”

Thranduil stared at Amglaur for a moment and then his eyes flashed to Limmiel. If Amglaur truly did not know the answer to that question, then Thranduil felt nothing but pity for both he and Limmiel. But he had seen much evidence of the strength of their bond so he could not believe Amglaur did not know the answer to his own question.

“My lord Amglaur, this is not a political allegiance that I will agree to for diplomatic reasons, nor am I asking for Lindomiel because I think she would manage my household well. Eryn Galen is solvent. I can hire an overseer to do that job if my naneth chooses not to do it. We want to marry because I love your daughter and she loves me.”

With that declaration, Amglaur sighed. “I know that is what Lindomiel has told me,” he said, speaking in a softer voice. “And clearly it must be so if she feels it. But it concerns me deeply, Thranduil, that I have seen no evidence in your actions or even words until this very moment to confirm that you return what she feels for you. I see you care about her. That you want her to be happy. That you want her to be safe. But love is more than those things.”

Thranduil’s brow furrowed. “Amglaur, you and I have spent no more than the equivalent of one day together since you have been here and that has been your choice. We are not friends, nor are we likely to become friends. I have never worn my feelings on my sleeve for all to see and I find I am much more guarded now that I have become king. But despite those obstacles, if you cannot see how I love Lindomiel, then you simply refuse to look.”

Amglaur nodded slightly to that. “Perhaps I have refused to look, Thranduil, for I very much do not want to see my daughter married into the House of Oropher. I fear no good will come of it for her. But I cannot deny her love for you. She has already bound her heart to you whether I like it or not. You have my permission to be betrothed and I will give my blessing to your marriage. I will try for Lindomiel’s sake to appear happy.” He paused and fixed Thranduil with a cold glare. “Do not hurt my daughter, Thranduil Oropherion. Do nothing that brings her grief. If you do, I promise you that I will visit that grief back upon you ten fold. Do you understand me?”

Thranduil looked Amglaur with an impassive expression. “I do. And you need not concern yourself, Amglaur. Lindomiel will know nothing but love as my wife. I swear that to you.”

Amglaur only nodded.

With a disapproving glare at her husband, Limmiel stood, raising Thranduil to his feet in courtesy. She embraced him warmly. “I know you make Lindomiel very happy, Thranduil. As does Eryn Galen and the folk here. I, for one, am very pleased that you have finally asked for her.”

“Thank you, my lady,” he replied softly, returning her embrace and trying to ignore Amglaur’s cool glare.

*~*~*

Elleth/ellyth--Female Elf(s)

Adar/ada--Father/dad

Naneth/nana--Mother/mum

ion nin--my son