The King's Heart (Thranduil Fanfiction)

Chapter 35

(Thranduil)

As soon as the riders were past the bridge, I ran to find Fornor. When I found him, I sent him to follow Rhovanel. And report back with their final destination. I have met many warriors of Lothlórien, never any so blunt and rude as they.

After that I went back to my room to where Legolas and Tauriel were sitting on the bed, chatting about the events of their lesson.

"You got the disarming move really fast. How did you pick up on it so quickly?" Legolas asked Tauriel.

"It's just like how you could shoot an apple from a branch long before I could. Personal talents," Tauriel said, pretending to shoot a bow. Legolas furrowed his brow and tackled her, sending both of them rolling to the floor and laughing. As soon as they saw me, they stood straight up and acted like nothing had happened.

"What happened to Rhovanel? Is she here?" Legolas said, trying to see behind me.

"No, my leaf, the warriors took her to Lothlórien. We shall be leaving for there tomorrow. Go pack your travel bag." Legolas ran to his room and Tauriel followed him out. I plan to invite Annoneth on this journey, but I do not want to tell Tauriel yet.

Rhovanel's blades are sitting on the table; Legolas had sprinted into my room carrying them with the most defeated look on his face. It was as if he had led an army into battle and been the only survivor. I immediately knew that something was terribly wrong. A glance at the blades and I knew it was Rhovanel. I had burst from the room and run to the gates.

Now I strip myself of my robes and throw myself into a chair and watch the blades. They sit together, perfectly matched, equal in every way. The hilt is carved gold, the blades themselves are lined with Amber, and I pick them up and turn them over and over in my hands.

The air crackles when I grip the blades as if they were my own. I can feel the heat radiating from the steel and I start moving through my basic stances. As I move through them, I close my eyes and move only by feel. The air seems to bend around me; I start spinning the blades and shifting through the more complex motions. Soon, I don't feel anything but the blades in my hand. I don't notice the sweat dripping down my bare back. I don't notice the quiet creak of my door opening. I don't notice the soft voice that calls my name. I do notice when I drive the blades through the bedpost, shattering the wood and sending splinters to the floor.

Annoneth places her hand on my shoulder. I open my eyes slowly, as if waking from a dark sleep. From the corner of my eye, I can see the glimpse of fear in her eyes. I can still feel the heat from the blades on my hands.

"My lord, the horses are being rested for the journey tomorrow. Is there anything else you would have me do?"

"Come with me," I say quietly, not looking at her. Her hand flies from my shoulder and I turn to face her.

"Please, I will need your help. I know you do not think her an elf worthy of sympathy or kindness, but you did entrust your daughter to her teaching, so you must have some respect for her skills of nothing else," I plead with a course voice. "Please, you are my best friend, and you are the only one I would ask to help me with such an adventure." Annoneth rests her chin in her hand and rubs her forehead.

"Thranduil," she whispers, "I will follow you. But you must promise me that you will always think with a rational mind and avoid a situation that involves trading your life for hers. You must promise me this, or I can not allow you to follow Fornor to Rhovanel." Her gaze is hard, unwavering. I scan her face, but I know her well enough to know she will not back down from this.

"I promise."

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The next morning, before dawn, Legolas, Tauriel, Annoneth, myself, and three other riders are armed and mounted, waiting just inside the gates. Aras carries most of the supplies, the few that there are. Fornor is to meet us in Lothlórien as soon as the riders and Rhovanel stop for an extended period of time.

"Lord Thranduil! Where are you going at such an early hour?" calls a whiney voice. Rivornor struts up to the left side of Aras. I do not want to deal with this right now.

"We are off to Erebor for a meeting with Thror. He was not pleased with the arrangement made last time we met. It does not concern you, continue on with the affairs assigned to you," I command, doing my best to keep the sneer out of my voice. Rivornor smirks and walks around to the front of Aras.

"My lord, why were the advisors not told of this sudden departure?"

"Because the matter does not concern you. Now, move away from my elk lest you be flattened by his hooves," I snarl, not caring if he spreads rumors about me. I am done playing his games. I spur Aras and my company follows me across the bridge and eastward to Lothlórien.