Stars of Varda - An Elven Love Story (Thranduil)

15. Oddity

I scan the final entry of Oropher's journal, his last hastily written words on the eve of the battle. Proof of his overconfidence vaults from the parchment as unintentional foreshadowing. The Battle of Dagorlad was his last. His unwillingness to follow the High-King Gil-galad's orders led him to make an early charge upon the enemy, and he and his lightly armed company were no match for the forces of Sauron.

Even so long after his demise, I feel a stinging frustration. I lay down my quill. If Oropher had waited on Gil-galad, would the outcome have been different? Would he still be King of the Greenwood, and Thranduil the Prince? It is impossible to know, but perhaps life would be different for our people and realm. Pride consumed, as it always has...

The heavy warmth of the mid-June sun makes me glad for my haven in the caves. Their cool temperature serves as a popular respite to those working out of doors; even some of the villagers find solace for a time.

I shake my cramped hand and pick up the quill, persistent to keep going. It is only a matter of days before Thranduil's Aur en-Onnad, or Day of Begetting, and I hope to present the final work to him then.

Lost in writing Oropher's diatribe about Gil-galad's continued lack of faith in him, the blunt knock on the scriptorium door comes as a surprise.

"You may come in."

I look up when I hear the creaking of wood and clapping of boots on stone. Still in his guard uniform, he has obviously taken leave from his duty at the prison cells. The dark shade of his leaf-patterned attire matches the brown of his eyes and hair. Without waiting for a greeting, he approaches my writing table.

"Lord Elros." I stand. "This is...unexpected."

"You look exquisite today, Lady Rîneth." He rolls my name over his tongue like honeycomb, and roves his eyes over me. "That particular hue of blue reminds me of the river Anduin on a clear day."

I avert my eyes downward, pretending to be distracted by my writings. "And you, my lord, rain compliments like a summer storm. But...thank you."

"You may see my compliments as rain, but it is only because your garden is in need of water, my lady."

"My garden?"

My mind urges me to stay calm, but discomfort roils from my stomach like a wave. I doubt my half-hearted attempt at hiding it is successful. Yet Elros is oblivious, his own flowery words seemingly giving him courage. He walks around the table, my only safety barrier, to approach me closer.

"I believe there is hope for it yet."

How had I never noticed his ridiculousness before? A scent of lavender and mint wafts under my nose when he is an arm's length away, overwhelming and cloying, like his words. I step back.

"Is there something you need, Lord Elros? I am rather occupied in finishing my project for the King...I am sure you understand."

"You are not alone in having duties for the King. Tomorrow I am leaving for Imladris at his behest." He raises his chin. "As I am yet unaware of the time of my return, I shall bear this agony no further."

He tentatively reaches out his hand. I look away.

"Should you not be at the prison cells? I would hate to hear our prisoner escaped..."

"A young guard took over my duties until my return. Nandir or Narunir...I cannot remember his name. He seemed eager to assist. I doubt there will be any escapes, my lady."

"Even so, a young guard--"

"Enough." He closes the gap and takes my arm. "No more delaying on your part. I wish to hear it from your pretty mouth. That you love me."