With You

Chapter 18

A/N: I just want to say how much I love writing Finrod Felagund as a father. Truly one of my favorite parts about writing this.

The next few days were hectic. Celebelen noticed that any spare time she had, her feet carried her to find Thranduil. She couldn't make herself stay away from him. They kept cornering each other in turn to kiss fiercely in the shadowy corners of rooms, hallways, under trees, and behind the fountains. Each time they were found and separated, most often by their parents. She was pulled aside to make choices on the wedding, he was still ordered to focus on shoring up their security while such important guests stayed within their borders.

Two days after the feast, Oropher forcefully pulled Thranduil away from her embrace, and with great frustration, shouted, "Duel, now!"

Thranduil scowled and asked, "Why now?"

Oropher snapped back, "Because it is my right as king to test the prince's abilities any time I see fit. For the safety of our people."

The younger huffed and straightened his clothes, after replying, "Fine."

Both elves marched to the training grounds not looking at each other, their gait stiff and angry. They both chose a sword from the nearby racks, intended for high level sparring practice. Which meant that both blades were sharp as razors. Father and son stood opposite the ring, as Celebelen looked on fearfully. She had known about this particular ritual before, but this would be the first time she watched in person.

The surrounding halls began to fill with onlookers that whispered loudly to each other making her nervous. She flinched as she heard the terrible clang of metal against metal as they crossed swords. Both of them were very clearly experts with the weapon, but had vastly different styles. Oropher was bold and gave no mercy, while Thranduil's movements were all very precise and calculated. Thranduil held his own against his father however, despite the angry onslaught the elder gave him.

After a few more minutes, Thranduil disarmed Oropher with a dull clatter of metal on stone. The elder's sword lay at the edge of the ring, as the younger held the blunt of his blade under Oropher's chin, as he hissed, "Are you satisfied, my king?"

He held his hands up and nodded, clearly accepting defeat but looking extremely unhappy about it. Oropher pointed to the hall and said, "You have a meeting with the council in fifteen minutes. It's best you get going, lest you be late."

Thranduil quickly placed his sword back on the rack, albeit resentfully, then swiftly left the area in a huff.

After six more days of this, Finrod and Thranduil visited her at the infirmary near the time her shift was over. It was late afternoon and she had just finished taking stock of cured herbs, wiping her hands free of the mud that was caked on while she sat on her stool near the counter. Her hair was tied back with a green ribbon, and her apron was covered with dirt. She smiled when she saw Finrod, but stood abruptly, dropping the rag to the floor, when she saw Thranduil.

Her father grinned but held his arm out to prevent her from surging to Thranduil's side. His voice was cheerful but firm as he greeted her, "Hello, my sunflower! How goes your day?"

She drew close to wrap her arms around him in a hug. Her eyes met Thranduil's over his shoulder as he hugged her in return, but his expression was wildly embarrassed. Very curious, she drew back, "Hello father. What brings you to visit me on this fine day?"

A glint of mischief shone in his eyes, one she knew well. It meant he had been scheming, which made her nervous. He replied, "It appears you've gotten into quite a lot of trouble these last few days, flower. Quite unlike you."