Stars of Varda - An Elven Love Story (Thranduil)

17. Aur en-Onnad

"Perhaps even the King will smile upon hearing her," Aethel says, delighted. "He appears as though he could use one. But when does he not?" She titters.

Following Aethel's gaze, I see Thranduil still sitting alone, ignoring his guests. Likely he is regretting the invasion of his space. I tighten my clutch on the package against my chest, wishing Aethel would take her titters elsewhere.

"What do you have for the King, henig?" Aethel's curious eyes are resting on the wrapped package.

"A book."

"How much more could he need? He certainly--" At the sound of the door opening, she turns around. Her mouth forms a smile at the newest guest's arrival. "I must greet your father. He will be surprised to see me..."

Thankful for the momentary reprieve, even if at Ada's expense, I start across the room.

"Lady Rîneth," Caewen calls. "Please wait."

I feel a strong desire to pretend I did not hear. I still have not wished Thranduil an oronnad meren. It is the King's day, not theirs...

A forced smile is all I can muster. Caewen casts a glance over her shoulder to verify her mother is still occupied, then leads me to the wall, far out of hearing range. Small white jewels glitter in her golden hair like constellations.

"I must entrust you with a secret. It was not Haldir who sent it."

"How can you be certain?"

"He is pledged to another." She peers over her shoulder again. "He has only ever been a friend to me, Lady Rîneth. I tried telling Nana, but she does not wish to believe it. She is keen on the idea of a wedding."

"But she must learn the truth eventually..."

"And conclude her daughter will forever be alone? Her spirits are low already, but yet still she clings to hope. I must wait..."

"For whom? The one who sent you the harp?"

"I do not know," Caewen says. "I was not lying when I said it may have been sent from friends."

"Then what reason for anonymity?"

Again Caewen glances back at her mother, who has finished speaking with Ada and is looking curiously in our direction. She lightly touches my arm before going. "Please tell no one."

It is the most expressive I have seen Caewen thus far. I am mystified. Why would she choose to confide in me? Perhaps she was making certain no further gossip spread. Knowing my closeness to the King, maybe she feared the speculation returning to Lord Haldir and all of Lórien. It would place Haldir under suspicion from his betrothed...

If Haldir was not responsible for sending the harp, who was? It is possible someone in the Woodland Realm has gained an admiration for Caewen over the past few months. I take a deep breath and resume my walk, determined not even the King of the Valar could interrupt me now.

Thranduil looks up from a well-worn book on Quendian linguistics. His blue eyes soften when he sees me, but he withholds a smile.

"Oronnad meren, hîr vuin."

"Rîneth." He gestures to the adjacent chair. "Sit."

A warm amber light falls over the hearth area, adding a homey glow to the otherwise stark room. Thranduil lifts his book again when I sit down. I look at the package resting on my lap, wrapped in silver brocade, coincidentally the same color as his robes. It seems I should have chosen another day.

The visitors' cheerful expressions are unaffected by the King's disposition. Lady Aethel is attempting to join the discussion between Ferdir and Legolas, offering enthusiastic nods and glancing from one to the other like an eager elfling. Caewen watches from a distance, maintaining a graceful posture.

Growing weary of the silence, I cast aside my hesitation and boldly place the book in his lap. Thranduil looks at me then, his brows raised in high arcs.

"I believed it a favorable day to present this, but perhaps I was mistaken."

He unwraps the cloth to reveal his father's writings, bound in soft brown leather. His face unreadable, he lightly grazes his fingers over the cover.

I watch in suspense as he scans through the pages, pausing to examine each accompanying artwork, lingering longest at the drawing of his father's elk. When he reaches the last entry, he reads it to the end.

He lifts his wintry gaze to mine. "It is far more than I imagined."

"I...put all my heart into it."

A faint smile lights his eyes. "I shall always think of you when I look upon it."

I feel a warm tingle spread through my body. It has all been worth it then, every long day and late night. Not trusting myself to speak, I smile in return, hoping it conveys how much his words mean to me.