Your Hands Are Cold

The Confession

The following days were strange to me. It was as if time had ticked very slowly, and I was stuck in a strange moment for which I’ve been trying to comprehend. After Thranduil’s visit to my bedchambers, he went back to being the sulky king he is. We rarely exchanged glances, because when we do accidentally bump into one another, I usually scurried back into my bedchambers or to the storage rooms, even when my supplies were already full.

It seems that the king needed some time to think. But without his company, I have a smaller amount of friends to talk to. Maerwen and Faelwen are as busy as ever with their chores and so am I, and their cheery and youthful personalities makes me grow weary, and Arandur was now sentenced to live in the dark dungeons below. I passed much of my days inside my bedchambers, working on the king’s robes and eating my meals.

One evening, I was halfway finished with my evening meal when Maerwen burst into the room, panting.

“What is it, Maerwen?” I rose from my seat.

“It’s Thranduil,” she said. It was difficult for me to understand what she was saying, because she spoke between intervals of short huffs of breath. “He wants to see you in the breakfast parlor, immediately,”

“Right now? I haven’t finished my evening meal yet,”

“Quickly!” Maerwen ushered. She grabbed my wrist and we hurried to the breakfast parlor. I was deeply confused, and when we finally reached the breakfast parlor, I couldn’t help but feel nervous again. Oh god, what if he’s going to sentence me to the dungeons and have me live alongside with Arandur? Or send me back to live in the town because he couldn’t bear having a seamstress who thought her king was his friend? Or even worse, exile me?

Thranduil was facing a large window. He seemed to be absorbed by the thoughts in his head, so I coughed and asked, “You requested for my appearance?”

The king turned around and gazed at my eyes. I could not forget the expression painted on his face. It was a look of both sorrow and happiness, mixed together into one strange, ambiguous facial expression. His eyes hinted the sorrow, yet his smile showed something more different. Thranduil paced closer and closer to me, and I began shaking. Whatever it was that he was going to say to me, I’d have to accept it, regardless whether it is good or bad.

“Maeneth, I..” he said in a very quiet voice. I soon became even more nervous. “I have something to confess,”

“What is it, Thranduil?”

“I expect that you take this in the very best manner,” replied him. “But there are secrets buried in me that I want, and need to tell you. These particular secrets are all related to you, even in the most obscure of ways,”

“Thranduil, I’m afraid,”

“The last thing I want you to be is to be afraid,” he replied.

“Then what is it? My curiosity cannot stand this any longer,” I glanced at him.

Gradually, Thranduil touched my fingertips, then he placed my hand on his. I felt his cold touch on my skin, as he gently intertwined his fingers with mine. A shiver was sent through my spine. His eyes of ocean blue averted from my fingertips to my eyes, and then it was as if we were frozen in time. And that’s when I realized that I loved him. I loved Thranduil, for no particular reason that I could mention now. But I loved him.

“When my wife died, my heart had not known the feeling of love for centuries. Instead, it was replaced with bitterness and hatred, and that is why I seem so unwelcoming to others,” he spoke. “It was because of the pain for which I have suffered greatly, and I had thought such suffering would never end.

But within your presence, I feel light and joy returning to me, Maeneth. Forgive me when I grow detached or aloof, for that is the way I have been for so long. But within your presence, I no longer possess such traits, and that is why I pursued you since the first day you started working as my seamstres. Without you, such joy and elation perishes within the blink of an eye. Please believe me that I am not taking advantage of you if you think that I only ache for you because you are to become a replacement for my deceased wife; but you are not, Maeneth. You fill the darkened night sky of my heart with glittering stars that are still unfamiliar to me. I am not a fickle elf, and the love I have for you is directed solely for you and you only,”

“ThranduiL, I..,” I tried to pick the right words for it, but I simply couldn’t reply. “I am your seamstress,”

“I protected you at all costs, and I treated you as if you were my queen. I protected you from Arandur because I knew that an elf like him would do such frivolous acts. I also knew that he would hurt you, and when he did, there was more anger and wrath in my heart joined together than the past few centuries of my bitter life,” Thranduil spoke.

“But..”

“Maeneth, I want to let you know that if you do not return my affections, you can. You have every right to not love me back,”

“Thranduil, think of the consequences that may follow,” I said. “What will others think of me once they find out the king’s personal seamstress has become his wife? They will think of me as the lowlife orphan that took advantage of her position as a palace staff who works closely with the king to become the queen of Mirkwood,”

“Then every elf of my realm who chooses not to respect you as their queen has the right to leave my kingdom,” Thranduil stated. “If you leave, I want to ask you, Maeneth. Have you ever loved me?”

I remained silent for a moment and looked down at my feet. Then I glanced back up at Thranduil again, whose eyes glimmered with hope that I would give him the ideal reply. “It’s not a matter of whether I love you or not, I am simply not the right elf to become a queen. What about other female elves who work closely with you, who have higher ranking positions and are far more respected by others, like Tauriel?”

“I cannot choose Tauriel as my queen, for I see her merely as a friend. Yet you haven’t answered my question yet, Maeneth. Have you ever loved me, truly?”

I smiled and said, “Yes, I have and I still do,”

 And within the blink of an eye, Thranduil’s lips pressed against mine, and the blissful euphoria that filled my mind was more than enough for me to indulge in. My reality has now become much better than my dreams.