Impurities

Chapter Twenty: Unimaginable

Gold, emarld, rubies, and diamonds. Riches unimaginable existed in this place. Ezra couldn't even see the floor, it was covered with thousands upon thousands of shimmering gems and minerals. The thief took a moment to observe, but never for long because he knew he had to work fast. Because it was impossible to take everything, he had to decide what was worth taking.

He started with stuffing his tunic. Ezra skipped the gold. Diamonds and rubies were what he was going for. Sieving through piles and shelves, he made his selection. Of small, medium, and large and of different cuts he chose them until his tunic no longer any space for more. Feeling the pounds he had put on, he began to look about for better means to transport the valuables. A cloth or a sack would suffice, but his eyes picked up on a small open chest filled with gem studded short blades and daggers. What fell out after the weapons when he overturned the box nearly floored him---a necklace made of diamond and pure starlight. He picked it up knowing an exact worth could not be put to it. After emptying the contents of his tunic into the chest, he laid the necklace carefully on top.

"Why did you not keep me current?" Thranduil stood a fool. He was shocked that he had lost track of the past few days, and he wore the expression visibly on his face. "You would've created reason to hold him longer", Annawrete answered. Thranduil knew that he may have, but he did not know why it would matter to her. "You held pity for him" the king's eyes accused. "Because you possess a cold heart", Annawrete began, "I pity anyone that you persecute". Annawrete looked at him with a mixture of anger and hurt.

It took all of him not to strike her again. Who was she to speak of his heart. Thranduil revealed to her for the first time his scar, hoping to frighten her. "If you knew all which I have suffered, you would not be asking of me to give more", he breathed. The struggles he spoke of were the dragons, battles, and deaths he had seen, including that of his wife and several many years ago, his father. He knew what this was about---why Annawrete was attacking him. He knew that she had wanted him to give up his immortal life, bare the probability of sickness, disease, and other mortal woes all for the sake of returning her love. "Put away your feeling for me. You and I can never happen", he said with a tensed brow.
Though she had already given her heart to another, and accepted it, it still hurt to hear those words of rejection so plainly. With trembling eyes Annawerete looked over the singed tissue and muscle that remained of his left cheek, "But with your impurities you are more human now than ever".

Thranduil said nothing immediately. Her words brought him embarrassment, leading to the concealing of his scar once again. The scar to him meant weakness. It meant mistake and error. It marked and reminded him of failure. It still stung as regret. Weakness, mistake, error, failure, and regret, found in mankind so easily, she spoke utter truth to his face. "I am no man", the Elvin king said, "I am willing to spill your blood to prove that I bleed differently from you".

He turned, ready to go. "Thranduil", Annawrete was only able to call because she knew he didn't mean the threat. She wanted to reveal what she heard from Ezra and ask him the reason why she was taken from her biological parents. The Elvin king turned his face over his shoulder. He was emotional wounded, tormented even---she saw it in his eyes then when he looked to her. Since his wife had passed and he could not remarry freely due to customs, seen but never once been touched by him, Annawrete concluded she was kept as a visual companion, giving feasible explanation to the belief she had that he kidnapped her. Discovering what she thought to be the answer to her unspoken question, Annawrete said instead, "Meet my lips this once, I do not wish that we forever wonder what could have been". She would be gone with Ezra and Stella in the morning.

With no more hesitation than a second or two, Thranduil came to sit at the end of her bed. Annawrete could not tell of him, but she was nervous. Her heart felt like it was crashing violently against her rib cage, even as she lifted her hands to his strong shoulders. As she went up to meet his mouth, she closed her eyes and missed seeing the slight tremble in his fingertips that moved her hair away from her pretty face. He allowed her to make the contact of their lips first, before he initiated their movement. Catching her lips between his as he reaffirmed and retracted, he was in awe of how enjoyable her mouth was. His senses could tell her natural flavor apart from the bit of alcohol she had at the party. Her senses, not as strong, only tasted flavorful wine. Their mouths tasted sweet to each other.

Too soon, he was the one to break their connection. After he pulled his lips from her, she slid her hands down from his shoulders to his chest. Removing her hands slowly, Annawrete set him free, hoping that the night would pass quickly for it was impossible for her to sleep soundly now.