To Live Again: In her Hands {Lord of the Rings / Thranduil fanfic}

Mid Winter Feast - Part III

This chapter is dedicated to MavisMcQueen whose inspirational characterisations have truly challenged and given me bravery to better explore the magic of the wild wood

I apologise there may be some errors as I have not got to my Mac to edit and it's already 1AM. I will hopefully do fix ups and my special thanks tomorrow. In the meantime thank you so so much for all the amazing votes and comments! You guys are the main source of my happiness!

Song: From Western Woods to Beaversdam - The Chronicles of Narnia OST

*********************************

There is always a look that someone gives - often just a slight movement - that gives them away. The tightening of a jaw, the purse of lips, the sideways glance, or the dilation of pupils. These are the things I've become quick in noting with others, I don't know why? I assume it is because you learn very early on, in these positions of power, that lying becomes a way of life. 

Generally, little lies or cover-ups are insignificant. If I'm bored or feeling particularly irked over an insult to my intelligence, I'll pursue the matter. Mostly I just carry on my way, suffice to know that I see through such petty things. However, once in awhile something comes to light, and by just the look of another your insides start to crawl and bile rises in your throat. It is safe to say in those moments you'd rather the lie they told be the truth, than see beyond it, because fear is an awful weakness...

*****

3416 SA - Halls of the King, Greenwood

"What do you mean, she's not there? Where else would she be?"

"I am sorry my lord, I-I-I...um...was passing...and I-I...er...heard him crying. S-she wasn't there."

Every soul in the room was silent, excluding the baby in Oliel's arms, whom she rocked much to aggressively to be calming. His cries were pitiful at this point...weak and lonely...it was an all to honest picture of our lives.

My eyes danced across the lines of strange and familiar faces. The faces of my own folk held an aura of betrayal, sympathy, and maybe even slight embarrassment for me...though they all tried to conceal it. The Lindon traders on the other hand...well...stoic faces coupled with wide eyes and tightening jaws spoke to me of a hidden agenda.

There were eight seats in total for our guests, but only six were filled. Apologies had been offered for their absences; they were weary from the journey and one was sporting an injury after a toss from his horse. I knew those excuses felt like lies, but I had not pushed the issue, I had no reason too...until now.

"Let us adjourn for the evening," Raffyn offered quietly, standing to his feet and rifling through trade papers. "Lord Galour, would you be so kind as to-"

"Where are your absent associates?" I snapped a little too harshly, leaning across the table intimidatingly; "one of them is my wife's cousin...where are they?"

There was no response for a few seconds, only frantic looks. The only thing prompting them was the adamant wail of my son. The sound made them fluster, and it made me flinch more visibly than I intended.

"For the love of Eru...Oliel take him outside and pacify him!" I growled and she leapt clean out of her skin before rushing out the door, her face flushed and tears pricking her eyes.