XI: All Yours

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When I awaken the next morning, Thranduil has gone.  All he left behind were memories of his strong embrace, which seem more distant with every passing second.  I refuse to believe last night was all a dream. It can't have been.

He enters, greets me in his usual way, then confirms that I couldn't have been more mistaken when I thought I would be allowed out on my own again. 

'I like to think my belief that it is too dangerous for you to go out alone has been justified,' he speculates as I stretch and wriggle up to sit next to him.

'And I like to think you're wrong, sire,' I object, the force of my statement being somewhat lessened when I involuntarily follow it up with a large yawn.

Thranduil doesn't smile.  'Elena, this is not the time to quarrel with me.  I wish to come to an agreement about this.'

'We seem to be excellent at those, don't we?'

Sarcasm doesn't throw him either.  'I thought we had agreed on something last night.'

Warmth floods into my chest. He does remember it—it was real. 'And we did.' I shoot him a smile. 'So, what do you propose?'

'I'm not going to make the mistake of confining you to your room.  I've decided to let you spend most of your time in my chambers, where no one can come in without my permission.  When I am not present, I can send Gelya, but she will not always be available so you may have to entertain yourself.  If you wish to go out into the gardens, I will need to accompany you.  Can we agree on that?'

My initial reaction is to quash this idea immediately.  'I don't need you to protect me all the time.  I'm not a child!' I snap, but then realising what I've done, I add, 'Sorry.   That was uncalled for.  What I meant to say was... well, I...'

Thranduil seems to be forcing himself not to roll his eyes.  'I often forget how you detest being told what to do.  I'm trying my best to be patient with you, for I know how touchy you can get about your own independence.'

This only sends my temper soaring, despite me yearning not to anger him.  I hate it when he's unhappy with me.  Truth be told, I hate it particularly when I feel as if I could have avoided it.  There has to be a way we can settle this without any trouble; he's right in saying my independence is the subject we tend to clash over.

'I'll agree with your terms,' I say reluctantly.

***

Thranduil's chambers are heavenly.  I have only seen his bedroom before, but he decides to give me a look around the other rooms he has all to himself.  They are all connected through rounded doors with borders of plaited vine, and are pleasantly lit by sunlight beaming in through the windows.  One breath in these rooms is like intaking a thousand different thoughts and memories that left faint imprints on the air; Thranduil, the deceased Ellerian, sometimes Legolas, and even shadows of Oropher from millennia ago.  I can almost feel whispers of the past flitting around my head—I don't know whether that's just because I'm a Star, or because these chambers really do have something magical about them.

As he leads me through, Thranduil makes sure to keep his arms around me - from the light, airy bedroom to a lounge with a cosy fireplace; from a room filled with beautiful artwork (including a few very fetching portraits of the King himself) to a cute little patio situated in a glade of swaying trees.  Seeming rather excited, he squeezes my hand, then pulls me off the patio and back towards the doors.

'Where are we going now?' I laugh as we cross the threshold into the lounge again. The small fire greets us with a welcoming flicker, creating dancing patterns of shadow across one wall.

'I have another room to show you,' Thranduil says, a hint of suspense in his voice, 'it's this way.'

Before I can object, he steers us right into a tiny corridor I haven't been in before.  In here, the air smells less light and more dusty, and the slight taste on my tongue is reminding me of old paper.

'What's in there?' I ask inquisitively, gesturing to the dark panelled door at the end of the corridor.

Thranduil laughs softly.  'You'll see.  Close your eyes.'  His arms still firmly around my body, he trusts me to close my eyes and keep them closed until we see whatever's behind that door.  He seems eager to show it to me, so it's likely to be something he loves.

We advance.  Slowly but surely, since Thranduil is now the only thing guiding me and keeping me upright, we reach the end of the corridor, and Thranduil gently pushes open the door.  He edges me in, then leans close to my ear and whispers, 'open.'

It's a library.  With a painted ceiling looming twenty feet above us and walls lined from end to end with row upon row of books, I can barely believe the sheer size of what I'm seeing.  The stacks of books are so high, they are sectioned off by great wooden ladders stretching all the way up to the top. My eyes scan the diverse surface of the walls surrounding us, taking in the books of all shapes and sizes; books with gold-embossed spines and leather binding; books tattered and frayed from millennia of use; books which are evidently the source of that pleasing papery musk. 

Even as I cast my gaze down from the towering shelves, I notice a vast crimson rug placed in the centre of the floor, surrounded by matching plush armchairs with decoration not unlike that on Thranduil's throne.  Vases of white lissuin stand elegantly upon the little tables and windowsills, their sweet scent mingling with the aroma of the books.

'This... this is all yours?' I gasp, unable to remove my eyes from the stunningly coordinated room.

'Yes,' Thranduil replies with a slight tone of pride, 'it was originally my father's collection, then it was passed on to me.'  He pauses, stroking my shoulders and slowly moving up to my neck.  'Do you like it?'

For a moment I don't answer, purely revelling in the soothing touch of his fingers on my skin.  'I love it...' I breathe, '...it's amazing.'

I don't need to look at him to know he's smiling.  His fingertips trace the edge of my face, and the kiss he leaves on the top of my head sends a wave of joy coursing through me, as if it were a beam of starlight.

He carries me over to the luxurious red armchairs and promptly sits down, holding me tightly to his chest. I lean back against him, letting him kiss my neck and run his hands through my gleaming blonde hair. 'Do you think you'll be alright in here, then?' Thranduil hisses softly in my ear.

'Of course I will,' I answer, trying my absolute hardest not to sound like I'm scoffing, but at the same time I'm focusing on Thranduil's finger curling around a lock of my hair.

'That's a relief,' he mutters.

Sarcasm, eh? Two can play at this game.

'Good to know you have absolutely no reason to worry about me.'

'Is that true?' he smirks.

'Well, I guess we'll see about that when I try climbing to the top of the ladders.'

He gives a small snort of laughter. 'Don't forget, you stay out of trouble.'  Thranduil squeezes my shoulder playfully.

I turn my head to face him fully.  'I'm afraid it's normally trouble that finds me.'

***

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