Kingsfoil [Thranduil] LOTR

Patient

A special thank you to all the readers who voted for my last chapter: EareaneofMirkwood, milorando, rose5607, northern_lights, OliviaSmith115, casburger, Havecouragebkind, toffee3326, featherfrenzy, and bre2333.  This chapter is dedicated to you!

Three thousand years ago...

Hair sticking to the back of his neck and slightly out of breath, Thranduil lay in the dark, and the room was utterly silent, save for the sound of his uneven breathing and his wife's quiet exhale. His wife. He could still very faintly hear the remaining party guests from his wedding finishing the wine in the Great Hall, and now he was bonded, married.

His wife lay curled up beside him, but in a fortnight's time, he would be marching with his father and the sum of his army to the War of the Last Alliance. He closed his eyes and found the beginning spark of his marriage bond, like a single candle flickering in a long hall. His father had told him these things could take time.

He touched her shoulder. "Elarien," he whispered her name and thought himself blessed by the Valar to wed such a beautiful creature. Her hair, like fields of gold in the sun's dying light, fell in perfect waves to her waist. Thranduil picked up an errant strand lying across her bare back and marveled at the weight of it; he tentatively ran his hand through the rest of her hair.

"Not yet, Thranduil." Elarien's voice was weary. That she was tired, Thranduil could understand; the evening's activities had been strenuous to say the least, not to mention their bonding. Smiling to himself at the memory, he ran a finger across her shoulder, down her arm, awed by the softness there.

"I love you," he whispered, and when she did not return in kind, he resolved not to let it bother him. He was patient. He could wait.
. . . . . . . .
November, 3018:

Thranduil stretched and then squeezed the water from his hair. He felt positively elvish and much restored from all of his recent traveling and the hassle of having to deal with the dwarves. Of course, he did not have a change of clothes with him, so he dried off quickly and pulled his leggings back on. Peeking through the door, he noted with a smile that Narylfiel had fallen into a deep, healing sleep with her eyes closed-more like passed out from the hefty dose of blood grass the dwarves provided. He thought she might; the old healer had given her enough to knock out a full sized stocky dwarf, and Narylfiel was such a tiny slip of a thing. It was for the best. She needed her rest, and he would be able to finish the bond-healing.

Thranduil studied her, his eyes drawn to the way her brown hair curled across the coverlet like warm silk and the redness of her lips, darkened from the blood grass. He pulled a blanket over her, hesitated, and reached for her hand, still clutching the empty medicine cup. Taking the cup from her fingers to set it aside, he laced his fingers through hers and felt a guilty pleasure at the surge of the bond between them. Thranduil could not think of anything to compare the feeling to, except perhaps taking a long, slow sip of miruvor, and the way the cordial warmed his whole body from the inside out and left him feeling renewed, stronger. He reminded himself that he needed to break the bond after healing her, reminded himself that he could not allow it to continue, but in the stillness of the room-and only for a minute, he told himself!-he sank down on the bed next to her and let himself hold her hand, relishing the feel of her skin velvety against his palm.

He marveled that this should have happened to him, to her. She was such a young, bright spirit, so joyful and fresh, and he was...not. Compared to her, he was as ancient as the dark, twisted trees that grew in the deeps of the forest, and his heart had seen much of despair and bitterness; he would move his entire army to shield her from the kind of suffering and loss he had known. Narylfiel had become infinitely precious to him, not just from the revelation of her feelings for him, but for the sum of all she had been to him, ever since the day she had sat down for tea with him the first time as a young elleth and coolly explained how she planned on making a match between his son and her sister. She never failed to surprise him.