To Live Again: The Road to War {Lord of the Rings Fanfiction}|

25. Just in Case

Slivers of dawn light shine beautifully into Celairiel's nursery. The strands of light seem to catch the crystal mobile hung above her small bed, which sends the light glittering through the room. It is a pretty and peaceful sight, and would have normally brought a smile to my face on any other morning - but not this morning.

I meld into the stone pillars, carved like trees that surround the doorway, and become like cold stone myself. It is no easy task watching a father farewell his children, for this will be the last time Thranduil will hold his daughter until the war ends, and he doesn't waste a second of it.

He hums - quietly in a tune I find faintly familiar - and I consider with a half-hearted chuckle that it is his version of songs I have tried to teach him in the past. Mostly he would screw his nose up in mild disdain at the vast array of modern music lyrics I vainly attempted to sing, but he was quite fond of songs native to my home. Of course his attempts are like angelic symphonies compared to the originals, and almost completely unrecognisable to me, but every now and again I hear a word or a note that is definitely not of Arda.

Celairiel has already fallen asleep, and she has been blissfully curled into her Ada's arms with the hint of a joyful grin on her face, for well over an hour. I dread when she will begin asking for him when he is no longer with us, for it won't take long. As much as I would like to say she is entirely like me - because she is my daughter - that would be a lie. She is most definitely her father's little Princess, and she has Thranduil wrapped around her little finger. She will miss him fiercely, and truthfully they commune in a way that I just can't, for they share such a natural affinity for the woods that goes beyond the elven ability. Still I cannot complain, Thranduil would argue that my bond with Legolas is something he cannot compete with. Though the child is not mine by blood, he is certainly my son in spirit.

I feel a smirk tug at my lips as I conjure memories of our slightly dysfunctional family, still there is always one parent better at understanding their child than the other, but that does not mean the love is any less or greater, and Legolas has certainly not taken the impending departure of his Adar well. He is currently in the comforting arms of his Grandfather, whilst I was sent to see to the last provisions for our departure - another matter in which he is most displeased about. He wants to come with us, but he is not strong enough for the journey and this has caused him to sulk. Although I feel the huffing is just a reaction to the fear he has over the war, I can sense his anxiety, and the anguish he feels over parting with his father again.

"Thranduil," I whisper quietly, interrupting his melodic humming, and with a sigh he barely flicks his gaze over me. "Thranduil we have to leave soon, it will only make it worse for you if she wakes up."

"I should not be leaving her," He mutters with agitation as he settles her back into the warmth of her bed, kneeling down so he can soothe and kiss the crown of her golden head; "It is not right, Clara, I should not leave either of them."

"But you must, and they will understand that," I reply calmly and extend my hand to him, which he gratefully takes to pull himself to his feet. Once I can meet his gaze I smile encouragingly and squeeze his hand with mine; "Don't worry, I will tell her every night that her Ada is a hero and fights bravely for her."

"I think hero is grossly overstating things," Thranduil chuckles and nestles his cheek against my head, whilst he still gazes sadly at our resting elfling.

"To her, you will always be a hero," I grin, and begin the painful task of pulling him away from Celairiel and out the door. I only get as far as the entrance to our chamber when Thranduil pulls me back to give me a pleading look, which makes me frown in concern.

"Clara," He carefully says my name and I nod reflexively. "Clara if the worse should happen, if I do not make it back-"

"Sshh, that isn't going to happen," I reply quietly but firmly, holding my fingers to his lips to quiet him.