Time Isn't Healing [Thranduil Fanfiction/The Hobbit]

X. Thranduil. Impossibility

"I know you're there, Faeryn. Come down." Said Thranduil as he was leaning over the big pine in the garden, his eyes were fixed on a particular elleth above him.

It did not take Thranduil long to figure out where would Faeryn possibly ran off to, in fact, the thought of their usual pine tree occured to him right the moment he got out of Laebon's sight.

The king's instinct did not fail him as he soon spotted Faeryn hanging herself on a middle branch. She seemed to had deeply lost in her own thoughts, so deep and concern they were that the maiden elf's keen ears even refused to acknowledge their master of his company.

Faeryn was in a daze, her distincive green eyes bore into the horizon where the mountain of Erebor could be seen faintly in the mist. Thranduil could easily pull her down to the ground with one swift move, thanks to his reliable strong muscles, however that action was quite insensible since the elleth was obviously in great need of space.

"You can come down or I will come up, Faeryn. You have a choice." He demanded, however, unlike the way he used for his guards and people, Thranduil spoke in extreme discomfort. His discomfort soon, peaked up to the summit as the elleth showed no interest in her absent mind.

"You actually think that I'll listen to you ordering me around?" Mockingly, Faeryn said from above.

Thranduil smirked, she was right, he could never make her do something she did not will to nor did he think he could authorize Faeryn without feeling uncomfortable with that.

"I tried, at least. It did not work, I see. But at least I did something." Thranduil reached out for the dark hair elleth's feet as he suddenly remembered when they were just children and the day their friendship began. She was sitting up there and he was too, reaching up for her feet; however as time changes, Faeryn was no longer a little elleth and he was a king now. They grew up, they got taller and eventually, the two both found life was not easy to live.

And they had forever.

The word scared Thranduil somehow as he thought about it once again.

Forever was a good time to live in dreams. Forever was not a good time to live in reality. Cruel reality.

"You asked him. And you have to admit that it felt much better. Even when you did not get the information you wanted."

It took an infinite moment until Faeryn finally spoke up. Her voice was full with dismay and disatisfaction. "If he could be a bit more understanding, I'd be glad."

Thranduil spoke silence. He, although was trusted to protect the elleth from the truth, did not know what it was as well. The king could not help to curious even when the matter clearly had nothing to do with him, let alone Faeryn was involved too deeply to be safe.

"Some secrets are meant to be hidden, Faeryn." He absently reminded her one thing he had learnt from his father - Oropher before the late king's decease.

Secrets are like water. He had told young Thranduil. Once revealed, never the same. And follow it are consequences as fish come and go. Timing is everything. When time comes, what is hidden shall be found by the worthy.

"You think he was lying, too?"

"You know he was lying, Faeryn. The moment you yelled at him, I knew you weren't sufficed, you knew your father was holding the last piece of one picture that you graved for completion."

Advices were never Thranduil's strength. He could instead give Faeryn a comfort hug and all she needed to do was to ask for one. Not only one, she could have a thousand of it if she said so.

"I'm coming down." Slowly, she landed to the ground in a feather-like movement and with Thranduil's hand rounded her waist.

How small and light Faeryn was, Thranduil had thought for a second before the pretty elleth found her place on Middle Earth.

For many, many years, the king never realized how fragile she actually was; Faeryn never showed her weak side, she could be heartbroken, yes, but she would always stand up as she fell. The lady elf refused to let others see her as a pathetic being, and truth to be told, since their youth, Thranduil had not spotted a single tear in those significent green eyes, until today when Faeryn was on the verge of her own tears of sadness and disappointment.

"I didn't mean to yell..." she sighed heavily and the scene of her out burst flooded back. "I was offended at the thought that I did not deserve to know more about my mother beside the color of her eyes and fading memories of her reading."

"Laebon never said that." He reasoned. "I understand green eyes in pure elf are impossible and when you happened to encounter with one, you began to question the impossible."

"I did not doubt, Thranduil. Not for once because I know you cannot doubt the truth... It was... hope... or at least that was I thought." Faeryn confirmed, she looked at him, anxious.

"What were you hoping for?" He questioned the elleth.

"My mother." And she quickly added. "She's dead... I know!... She has a grave which is now as cold as ice. I hoped for a miracle. I did not doubt. I hoped for the impossible, Thranduil."

"Looks can be deceiving." He simply said and silently hoped Faeryn would take that in. "Dead people cannot be alive."

Faeryn stood next to Thranduil and he felt like wrapping the elleth in his arms. Looking at her, he considered their time being; looking at her, he considered how beautiful his life was with her in it and looking at her, he considered the strange feeling that changed him inside out whenever his blue eyes met hers vigorous green.

And so the king decided to do what his heart pursued: he hugged his dear friend.

Faeryn's hair was much softer than what he remembered, her skin was amazingly smooth and her familiar scent somehow became new and remarkable.

He could feel her little hands traced in circled on his back, her head leaned on his chest where his heart was, listened to it beating.

"It keeps haunting me. Those eyes I saw in the woods. She looked at me as if she had been watching my whole life."

Faeryn's light voice mumbled weakly. And although he did not like it, Thranduil could not help but think of an exception in what was called the impossible.

The young king thought of Laebon, the father who willed to keep his daughter from knowing whatever the secret was until his last breath. And that would perhaps, stay the same if the elleth hadn't been acknowledged.

"I'm glad that you're still being truthful to me. I hate it when people lie."

A pang of guilt hit his heart. Thranduil said nothing but to hold Faeryn a bit closer. He wondered whether the position he was in right now counted as lying. He would like an answer, however none was given.