Your Hands Are Cold

After being apart from Thranduil for a few days, I sensed admiration and fear mixed into one, incomprehensible feeling. He stood before me, in his afternoon attire. We glanced at each other, as I waited for him to start conversation. I was more than scared, because at the moment I thought I had successfully escaped the palace for an hour and done what I had to do, Thranduil had to be in the very same place where I was. As usual, my hands were trembling with fear.

Even it may be true that Thranduil has certain affections for me, and I do too, he is still the king of the woodland realm, while I am still a seamstress, therefore he currently has two choices: exile me and terminate my position as royal seamstress, or keep this a secret and we can continue whatever relationship we currently have.

"It was a mistake," I said in a barely audible tone. I was not even going to try to make him sympathize with me, for I know that what I've done would bring terrible consequences for not just myself, but to Maerwen and Faelwen as well.

"I know it was," replied Thranduil. He glanced down, and touched my hand. "And I know you came here only to mourn for your grandfather,"

"Yes," I said. "Although I had no intentions of leaving the palace for other reasons what so ever, Thranduil, and you have to believe me,"

"Why have you been aloof?" he asked, gazing into my eyes. The sadness in his blue eyes was too painful to see.

"If I visit your chambers too often, the staff will start to suspect something between us, and you know how I am terribly afraid of that,"

"You're not telling the truth," he replied.

"It's a very personal matter for which you do not have to know about," I said, almost becoming vexed by his curiosity.

"Then what is it? If I do not know, then you will continue to sulk in your bedchambers while I wait for you in mine,"

"I miss my home," I stated. "I miss meeting with old friends at the markets, and sewing dresses and gowns and robes for elves who I have formed a close bond with. I miss the sense of curiosity I had of what it was like to live in the palace, and to meet the king of the woodland realm,"

"Why would you miss such things when you have a better life in the palace? And do you not feel a sense of relief that you no longer need to be curious?"

"I don't know, Thranduil. Maybe I am just very confused and irritated at the moment, and I would prefer if we avoided this topic of conversation,"

That was enough to keep Thranduil from asking any more questions. We remained silent for a moment, which felt more like hours. In order to break the awkward silence I asked him, "What were you doing in the burial place?"

"I came to visit my wife, for today marks the day of her birth,"

"Shouldn't there be celebrations, or commemorations held in town and in the palace?"

"No," he replied. "I specifically told the palace staff to not hold special events regarding my deceased wife,"

"Why?"

"Because the pain will only continue, Maeneth," he said, and looked down.

I placed my hand on his cheek. It was a rare occasion to see Thranduil looking sad, especially during a conversation about his wife. His usual response was bitter statements due to the wrath and the anger that corrupted him, but to see him in such a state of melancholy remembering the death of his wife, it was one of the first few times I felt the suffering that he endured. I kissed his hand and then grew nearer to him. I gazed at Thranduil as he kept looking down on the forest floor.

"Thranduil," I said. "I apologize for being distant, and I had not known that it would upset you,"

"There's no need to apologize. Now I know how you felt when I do the same,"

"Come," I replied. "Let us return to your bedchambers. I know that you have missed me,"

"Your hands are cold," I said to him. "They're shaking as well,"

"Forgive me, this is how I am when I am in love," Thranduil smiled.