Stars of Varda - An Elven Love Story (Thranduil)

51. Confirmation

He draws me closer to him, his stare never wavering. If his hand did not have a firm grip on my waist, my legs would surely give way. He leans his forehead against mine and closes his eyes. I have never been closer.

"Rîneth."

His whisper makes me acutely aware of how close his mouth is, but I dare not close the gap. Despite appearances, it is possible the forest has not healed entirely and I am under its spell. Mirkwood has confused and tortured many a traveler with its dark magic. Not even the Eldar are immune.

He steps back, his eyes still searching mine, but for what I cannot fathom.

"I have something for you." He reaches under his robes to reveal a folded parchment. "I have had it in my keeping for a long time."

The parchment is soft in my hands, the paper having lost its crispness with age and use. I look at him, seeking an explanation, but he motions to open it.

Dear King Thranduil,

You and I are not acquainted, but we share a mutual friend. Rîneth has been my friend since she and her father visited Dale and stayed at my family's inn long ago. When I became of age and married, she loyally came to visit me as oft she could at my husband's farm near the River Running. The road became too dangerous for her to travel, as you well know, but she has never stopped sending letters. I can truthfully say she has been the most faithful friend I have ever had, and the most oblivious.

I shall get to that soon enough, but first I must tell you something important. I am on my deathbed, and I doubt I shall last to see the winter. Rîneth does not know it, and I want it to stay that way. She will take off without telling anyone and come see me, bless her, but it is too dangerous for anyone to travel, even the Fair Folk.

I am an old woman now, good King, and though not as wise as you by any means, I am wise for my kind, and have learned a thing or two about holding my tongue. I mostly say what I think, and Rîneth is no stranger to that, but there is one thing I have not told her.

She has had a rough go of things, you see, and she is holding on to the past. She is afraid of hurting again, so she feels she must live the whole of eternity alone. Tis a ridiculous notion, and I have told her so bluntly, but she is convinced it is what she wants. The truth is, she does not know what she wants, even while it is right in front of her.

I doubt there is much that gets past you, being a king of the Fair Folk, so you likely know Rîneth is in love with you. There has never been a visit or letter without her speaking of you with the highest admiration. To be truthful, I know more about you than I care to know, and as I have grown older I have had less tolerance for it, but I have held my tongue. I wanted her to figure it out on her own.

I know I said she is oblivious, but she has good reason. I do not pretend to know everything about the world of the Fair Folk, but it seems your kind complicate everything. From where I come from, dead is dead. If a spouse dies, there comes a time to marry again. I once believed loneliness was only for the Men of the world, but after knowing Rîneth, I have learned no one is immune.

And from what I have learned about you, good King, it affects you as well. Tis probably the reason for that foul temper of yours. So listen to an old woman on her deathbed. End this foolish Elvish business and marry her. You both love each other, it is as obvious as day, and its past time something is done about it.

Take care of her for me, and tell her the Elanor she planted in my garden is in full bloom. I suspect it is the last time I shall see them. They always remind me of her.

Rîneth's oldest (and youngest) friend,

Mattie

I feel a rush of heat across my cheeks as my fumbling fingers attempt to refold the letter, and I furiously blink away the forming tears. I cannot look at him. I am afraid of what I will see.