The King's Heart (Thranduil Fanfiction)

Chapter 57

(Thranduil)

I pull my blade from the last guard with a pang of guilt. I wish these guards had chosen to see reason when I offered them a choice, but they truly believed Rivornor and Umon were the rightful rulers of this realm and they chose to die for that belief. Such potential wasted on meaningless traitors.

Fornor kneels next to Annoneth's husband. I call for Tarawen who has a fair share of blood splattered on her own clothes.

"He is fading quickly; find something I can use to staunch the bleeding," she yells at me. I rip the cloak of a fallen guard and press it into her hands.

"Good, good. Fornor, go to my chambers and retrieve the herbs that are on the shelf above the table and some bowls of water. If you hurry, he will survive." With that concluding thought, Fornor sprints from the room to get Tarawen's supplies. I hope for Annoneth's sake that her husband will have the strength to pull through. Raising a child alone is hard for anyone, much less the Captain of the Guard. It may be even be easier for me than for her.

I sit on one of the wooden benches and rub my knee. The pain has faded to a dull throb with all the adrenaline pumping through my system. That is when I hear a cut off scream. I leap along the benches to the platform where Rhovanel is clutching at her abdomen. I can't see any thing that would be causing the pain, but I can see the blood that is dripping from her once white dress.

"What happened?" I practically scream as I rip the fabric from her dress open.

"Umon," she gasps. I am afraid to move her before I know exactly why she is bleeding.

"I will be right back, do not move."

"I do not think I could if I tried," she retorts.

I ignore her response and run to Tarawen, who is just finishing with Annoneth's husband.

"Rhovanel needs you, now!" I say, tugging at her arm.

"Thranduil! Calm down. You are acting like a scared child who just saw his nana get a splinter!" she snaps at me. Then she remembers who she is speaking to and apologizes. I dip my head in shame. It is no wonder so many elves denounced me as the king, not even my friends can speak freely with me.

"You are right, but Tarawen, she is losing a great deal of blood even as we speak," I beg modestly. Why can I not balance kindness and authority?

"You should have led with that," she says as we make our way over to the shattered altar. Tarawen gently presses her fingers along what looks like the source of the blood.

"Hand me the tweezers," she commands. I fumble around the bag and eventually get them into Tarawen's nimble fingers. She pulls the fabric from Rhovanel's dress out of the way and grasps at something with the tweezers. What ever it is, only a small piece of it is within the grasp of the tweezers.

Tarawen grumbles in frustration. "We need to get the glass out in one piece, or her chances of survival will no longer exist. Even now, the likelihood that she will live a natural life is slim. She will not be able to bear any children based upon the placement of the glass shard."

My heart breaks for her. I don't know if she ever wanted children, but to have the choice wrested from you, I can think of no worse fate.

Rhovanel has been silent but for a few murmurs of pain, but now she starts whimpering and tears flow steadily from her eyes. I crawl over to put her head on my lap. Then, I unpin her hair and brush my fingers through it. Her tears start falling onto my shredded trousers, mixing mud, grime, blood, and suffering with their saltiness and destroyed dreams.

Tarawen reached back in for the glass that impaled Rhovanel, and came out with a long, thin shard of the clear weapon. Rhovanel gasps as it finally exits her body, then starts crying harder into my legs.

"Shhhh, it will all be fine. I am sure that Elrond could-"

"No, I do not think he can. This is my future," she interrupts.

"Melamin, do not be so hasty," I whisper gently. "The future is full of mystery and miracles, anything can happen." She looks up into my eyes, and I down into hers. They are like the night sky when the moon is full, dark and bright at the same time.

"I love you," I blurt. She closes her eyes and nods.

"I know, Thranduil. I love you, too."

"I'm not sure you do know." She gives me a look of confusion, wiping at her tears. I grip her wrists and place them on my face. "I love everything about you, from the way you talk to Legolas to the way you lead a legion of elves. I love the way you can read people and know exactly what they are thinking. I love the way you stand for what you believe, and the way you comfort those less certain. I even love the way you listen to the forest. You are perfect in every way, though you feel like you make mistakes and act cowardly." Her eyes widen with every phrase, and I can see fresh tears growing and threatening to spill. I wipe them with my thumb as they fall, each stroke softer than the last.

"Will you marry me, Rhovanel of Lothlórien? Will you promise to be by my side always and to help guide me through the troubles to come and share in all my successes and failures?"

"Thranduil, I have loved you from the moment you knew I was lying that day in Lothlórien, but let me escape anyway. Of course I will marry you." I grin and feel my cracked lips crash against her soft ones.