To Live Again: Waiting Between Worlds {Lord of the Rings Fanfiction}

16. Burdened

Hesitantly I tap the doors of the private library, pausing briefly to smile timidly at the two guards that stand either side. Neither of them break their resolute stares when they offer me perfectly timed salutes.

If I felt I could, I would have asked them in what state was my husband, for he left the dungeons so quickly that I didn't even have the chance to follow. Sadly these two don't seem like the informant type so I guess I will have to face this without assistance.

When I get no answer I push on into the room anyway, inhaling deeply as I do. I am not frightened of my own mate, he may be King but he is still my sweet and oddly awkward Thranduil...who used to walk into doors and argue with inanimate objects.

The door bangs closed a little too loudly behind me, making me jump clean out of my skin - well that blew my cover!

Shaking my head at my stupidity I pad on into the room, with it's ceiling high book cases on every wall, its large overstuffed settees and lounge chairs, it's crackling fireplace and cherrywood desks. I meander around a rather ornate and wide bookcase, that quite literally splits the room in two, and predictably find Thranduil hunched over a desk at the far end.

His hands balled into fists pressing down into the wood, his back bowed and his head forward, making his platinum hair fall over his shoulders so it touches the polished surface of the desk.

At my arrival he looks up, his lips a thin hard line and his eyebrows drawn together.

"You requested my presence here?" I remind him quietly as I smooth my hands along the front of my coat skirt. When I get nothing but the silent treatment, I roll my eyes upwards and sigh shakily; "I am sorry Thranduil, I didn't intend for this to be your welcome home."

"I didn't intend on leaving you and the children in the care of wolves," He snipes back, making a disgusted sound at the back of his throat as he straightens up and walks around the front of the desk. I note the anger still evident in his features, and how the tendons in his arms and hands flex and protrude in his temper.

A long silence hangs in the air between us, but eventually he breathes in sharply and in a few resolute strides he closes the distance between us. Taking my hands in his, I am alarmed to find that they tremor slightly - whether by anger, or fatigue I cannot be sure? I peek curiously up into his hardened features, dismayed to find them as unreadable and empty as before.

"Thranduil..." I begin softly, pulling my hand from his to trace his face with my fingertips; "What are you thinking? I can't read your thoughts, I can't understand you if you don't tell me what is going inside that thick skull of yours?"

The sly comment earns me a slight smirk, and I grin triumphantly at the reaction.  It is true, his head must be hard as rock to have survived the numerous beatings he has taken. With a sag of his shoulders, he catches my fingers with his and pauses my exploration of his jaw;

"I was not expecting all of this," Thranduil groans slightly but waves his hand before I can reply; "Do not apologize Clara, none of this was your fault. I only mean that I was not expecting all of this to change so suddenly! I thought...well I thought I would just know what to do or how to act when I returned home, but truthfully I don't know and it feels like I am failing before I even begin."

"Stop it," I scold quietly and wind my hands around his waist, pulling him close; "Thranduil, how else are you to be expected to act? That was a massive blow and you are barely home a day. Other warriors are recovering with their families, and slowly getting used to the idea of being home. I am certain none of them are coming home to rule a Kingdom, and I am also pretty sure no one is expecting you to act like everything is wonderful."