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

20. Nature

So this has been...interesting to write.

I give you fair warning there are issues of a sensitive, mature nature discussed (and acted upon) in this chapter. There is one love scene, but it is entirely necessary for the plot and Thranduil's character...you'll see why in due course. With that being said if you get twitchy at those things, feel free to skip the end of the chapter, but dannnng yo missin' out. Anyhoo, it's nothing over descriptive, but you guys know how I write by now. Also NOTE there is a healing scene in this too, and if you guys get squeamish at Thranduil's injuries...well, prepare to be squeamish lol.

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Setting: A few years after Clara and Thranduil's wedding.
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Present Day, Halls of the King
Greenwood the Great
SA.

Clara's hands trembled with nerves as she addressed the servants.  Outwardly she appeared as any new princess should; demure, confident, and beautiful (though I was entirely bias).  It was, however, the little tremor in her fingers that gave her away. Although only an expert eye would pick it up.  Otherwise, she was flawless.

The servants all listened and took heed of her weekly amendments to the general running of our home.  She listened to them as they reported on food, stock, and all the menial but essential things that a royal home requires to operate.  This was Adar's first recommendation - that Clara would gradually take over the domestic running of things. That was the duty of a Princess...or so he said.

I liked to think she had other, much more important, duties to attend too. Activities that were more enjoyable, and only involved the two of us, but Adar did insist we attempt to spend some time apart, and fully clothed. That last part was an awful shame.

The servants stream out of the common room chatting in pleasant tones amongst one another.  I slink out from behind the pillar I was skulking behind and sidestep the shocked elves.  Some scramble to curtesy, others squeak in shock, but I'm not interested.  In fact for the most part, I try to politely move them out of my way without losing patience. 

It's Oliel who spies me first, as she hangs back to share a word with Clara.  The two cut their whispering as Ollie erupts into her trademark giggling and points my direction.

"Sleep in, did we?"  She titters and waves a hand to point out my less than polished appearance.  Clara twists around and frowns, but it is a playful one, so I'm not too concerned.

"Last time I checked this was my home," I say with a pointed look.  "I am entitled to be myself here...without nosey judgements."

"Someone didn't get much sleep." Oliel continues to giggle and elbows Clara, who cringes and wrings her hands.

"Oh Ollie, stop it," she huffs and prods our mutual friend toward the exit.  "Just go to the kitchens, I'll catch up with you there, okay?"

"Fine."  She sighs and flicks her mahogany mane over her shoulder, catching it in her fingers to braid.  "I shan't be a gooseberry to your little tryst." And with that said she makes a hasty exit, shutting the doors behind her.

"You need to be somewhere," Clara mumbles, her hands still twisting in anxious circles.

"I was on my way, but you distracted me."  I step up behind her and slip my arms around her waist.  "I hate it when you are not next to me when I wake," I whisper, then duck my nose into her neck to nuzzle the skin.  This usually makes her squirm and giggle, but not this morning, much to my disappointment.