Stars of Varda - An Elven Love Story (Thranduil)

44. The Secret

I feel a surge of tingling warmth. It is one thing to hear it from an admiring young guard, but quite another to hear it from one of Thranduil's skeptics.

"Every soldier here knows it was the King's victory."

"Tis high praise coming from you," I say. "You have not always thought so highly of him."

"I do not deny it," he admits. "I did not have the respect for him I should have. But then I witnessed him fight, ploughing through the enemy with no effort, as though it is something he does daily before the evening meal."

I stifle a laugh. "He does not like to be reminded, but he is very old. He has had much practice."

"Time and again I heard my father speak of his legendary skill in battles of old, the battles they fought in together. But all I could see was a vain ruler who hid in his caves."

"Most who do not know him believe the same. It is ironic since he had a similar view on you, believing you too arrogant to fight for your people. At least you have proven him wrong."

Ferdir has the decency to look sheepish. "I hope you are right. Soon I shall be residing in his kingdom. After Lórien came under attack my aunt and uncle said they could endure no more. If they survive, they will make their journey to the Havens, and I shall leave the Golden Wood. But I must return for a short time to say farewell."

"I look forward to you not leaving us again."

"I do as well," says another voice, high and soft.

I turn to see Caewen approaching with a smile as wide as her petite face, her dewy eyes fixed on Ferdir as though he is the only one present. When he pulls her in his arms, someone could tell me the Misty Mountains had turned to dust and I would believe them. He kisses the top of her golden hair before loosening his embrace.

Feeling bewildered, I can only stare at them. It takes a few moments to find my voice again. "Are you..."

"Yes," Caewen answers, her smile unwavering. "I apologize we kept it from you, but it was not without reason. We have been betrothed for a long time."

I look at Ferdir, my mind running in a hundred different directions despite my fatigue. "The harp. You were both playing a cruel jest on me. Why should you have kept it a secret? I see nothing wrong in this union..."

"My aunt does not approve. She has an elleth hand-picked for me in Lórien, one with great nobility," Ferdir explains calmly. "An instant refusal would have caused a rift between myself and my aunt."

"Then why did you not come to live here?"

Ferdir glances away, rubbing the back of his neck. "I am...to acquire a large inheritance once they leave. It will be more than enough for Caewen and I to live comfortably for our duration here. And while silver is not everything, the world is changing...the Men run on currency instead of good will..."

"So you were afraid you would not receive the inheritance should you leave them?"

He nods, still not meeting my eyes. "I have been waiting for them to depart before letting our betrothal be known. Now that it is happening so soon, I do not feel the need for us to stay in secrecy among friends."

It is now obvious why Caewen stayed so long in Lórien, and why she returned home so suddenly. Countless things I once found confusing begin to make sense. I shake my head and fight the childish urge to roll my eyes. All such trouble for an inheritance of silver...

"I did not wish for you to suspect anything in the slightest; your friendship with nobles and King Thranduil put us at great risk of the secret being quickly exposed," Ferdir continues. "I tried my best to lead your thoughts astray, but I felt guilty for it. I tried telling you before I left for Lórien, but--"

"I see."

I wonder if Caewen is aware how often her betrothed insulted her to keep up the act. It would be unkind to mention Ferdir's overt use of flirtation to deceive me, but if I was not so tired perhaps I would do so regardless. Not only had he lied, he had slandered the King's reputation, causing me to go against my nature and boldly ask Thranduil if he had given Caewen the harp.

I had believed Thranduil's disdain towards Ferdir had everything to do with him choosing to live with his aunt and uncle in Lórien instead of returning to his homeland and his father. But now I wonder if Thranduil suspected this deception from the beginning.

"I apologize, Rîneth. I hope you will forgive us in time," he says, visibly uncomfortable at the sudden barrier I have erected between us.

Caewen nods vigorously. "We would never have deceived you otherwise."

I remember Lady Aethel, and I know this news will bring her a wealth of deserved happiness. For her sake alone I force a smile and hold my tongue. But I am unsure if I can ever trust them again, regardless of their seemingly harmless intentions.

The day has been far too long and I have been through far too much; I do not wish to continue the exchange further.

"I wish I could say I understand fully. Nevertheless, I wish you both every happiness."

I make my way back through the sea of bodies. My legs are barely able to hold me up, and my mind is in an overwhelmed whirl. Before I turn to leave the main hall, a glimpse of strawberry hair catches my eye.

Gwendes is kneeling beside someone with a familiar face. Her hand is resting on his chest. He appears injured but is speaking to her ardently, his focus far away from his wounds. My chest constricts when I realize it is Sírdor, her gardener friend.

This time I do not have to force a smile.

A/N: Thanks for all your support! I'm blown away by it!