The Secret of the Forest

26 - Things Unspoken

If the right words exist, may they find our lips.
(Sleeping At Last: Resolve.)

Anna's days slowly melted into an indistinguishable molasses of repeating routines dictated by her medical treatment. Her nights were dreamless and empty and she suspected that whatever concoction she was given to heal her wounds and strengthen her body also made sure that her sleep would be deep and undisturbed. This was something she was truly grateful for, since she suspected that her dreams would have most likely been populated by hairy spiders and scorching fires, unnecessary obstacles on her way to convalescence. She tried very much to be a good and obedient patient, which was not all too difficult at the beginning, but her initial fondness of the bed that had welcomed her with its soft covers soon turned into an ardent wish to finally be able to leave those imprisoning sheets behind. She had to admit that her body still felt considerably weak, as if some insistent magic was siphoning off the strength she gradually regained. Nevertheless she was slowly improving day by day, thanks to the combined efforts and comprehensive supervision of Thranduil and Brethilwen, whom she had gotten to value as competent healers in the recent past.

When even after a near fortnight Anna was still only allowed to leave the bed for mere minutes so she could attend to her bodily needs, she was ready for what felt like a small rebellion. Every time she had tried her luck, hoping to wrest either from Brethilwen or Thranduil the permission to at least wander around freely in her room, her pleas had gone unheeded. Always had she been presented with the near identical rigorous glance and stern nod, accompanied by several ironclad reasons why she was not yet fit to leave her sickbed. Obviously in elven terms a few weeks bound to the bed were considered just a minor setback in their lives that were devoid of an expected ending. But Anna was starting to get antsy, she wanted to stretch her legs and move her limbs, be able to explore all those beautiful things her chamber had to offer.

The permanent attention of servants and healers and their near constant presence left her also with little to no privacy. Only when Thranduil wished to see her alone, the room took on the intimate aura of a quiet repose she loved so much about it. His daily visits to her room were the peak moments of her day and no matter how busy or how tired he might have been, he made sure to come and see her. And after she had read through all the books from her bookshelf he had made a habit out of supplying Anna with a new book for her to read every time he would visit her and sure enough when he came to see her on a particularly frosty winter morning he had another volume bound in midnight blue leather clutched under his arm as well as a rectangular wooden box. He entered Anna's room with energetic strides and when he found her already awake he pulled up his usual chair beside her bed and made himself comfortable, his legs languidly crossed and his long fingers elegantly wrapped around the book and the box, both resting on his lap.

"Good morning, my dear," he said, greeting Anna with a nonchalant smile. "So, how is my favourite patient today?"

Her lips curved into a sweet smile as she propped herself up further, flattening the covers as she did. "Good morning, my king," she said, "I am fine, thank you. After all, I'm well looked after." She absentmindedly brushed some breadcrumbs off her covers, irksome remnants of her breakfast that otherwise would later sneak stealthily under her nightshirt, converting her bed into a minefield of small but annoying hazards, intent on making the stay in her bed even more uncomfortable. She interrupted her motions with a frown when she felt his gaze lingering on her.