XXXVII: Fulfilled

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A red dawn comes today, with myriad shades of that colour sweeping the sky—red like Thranduil's delicious Dorwinion wine, red like the vast cloak he likes to wear, and red like the blood that has tainted the ground. Elvish blood. Spilled in defence of their home.

Elves were mourning throughout the night. They mourned for their fallen comrades, and for their lost Star. Shrines have been laid around the place where I disappeared, as a little collection of beauty in a garden brought to ruin. It was a miracle that all my friends have survived to mourn for me, and a miracle that Thranduil has eventually moved from where he had been knelt for hour upon hour. He has retreated into the depths of the trees we used to walk among together, and submerged himself beneath the budding spring branches. He has not spoken a word to anyone. It seems Legolas knew to leave his father alone, and decided to take charge of assigning healers and cleaning up the mess in the aftermath of the carnage.

The feeling of seeing Thranduil like this is enough to make me throw myself from the sky, but I hold on.  The descent must be careful, not reckless and fuming with emotion.  It will all be alright once I'm down there—not that I'll be much help in restoring the Woodland Realm to its former beauty.  That will simply have to come with time.

I brace myself for the Fall. Varda resolves not to abandon physical form, seemingly so she can smile knowingly at me while I take that fateful step through the glamour that separates my realm of origin from my realm of choice. This step has never been taken voluntarily, not by me or anyone else. Looking across the forest swaying beneath the strips of cloud, I see the scarlet sun peek above the glowing horizon—as it comes up, a Star comes down.

It's over before I even realise it started. 

We pause.  Thranduil and I, face to face, once again.  He struggles to utter the first word.

'Elena?'

'Yes, Thranduil.  I'm here.'

Tears spring into my eyes as he gingerly picks up my cold hand in his own, tracing circles lightly across the back with his thumb.

'Meleth nín... I thought I'd lost you forever.'

Without a moment's pause he wraps me in his arms and cradles me tighter than he has ever done before, pressing me into his armoured chest.  In turn, I throw my arms around his waist and cling on for dear life, now openly sobbing onto him.  I'm here, back on the ground for good, feeling the fresh soil sink in between my bare toes and inhaling the scent of damp earth blending with the familiar warmth of Thranduil's neck.  I'm here with him, with his heartbeat in my ear, and that's everything I need.

We stay locked in this firm embrace until Thranduil pulls out to speak again, tears now gleaming in his own crystal eyes.  'You're alive—you're not hurt, you're—what happened to you?'  He reaches out to touch my hands, my shoulders, then my neck, and as he runs one hand along the slope of my jaw, the other slips round to caress the back of my head.

I cannot answer him.  The minuscule amount of distance between us disappears as my lips, so indomitably drawn to his and curving into an overjoyed smile, close the gap.  Our kiss overwhelms me to the point where I know not whether I'm grounded or floating.  I could be soaring above the Stars and beyond the borders of the universe.  I could be a Queen of the heavens, and Thranduil could be my King.

'Elena...' Thranduil murmurs, leaning his forehead against mine, 'you're here.  You're here...'

'It was Varda,' I breathe at last, 'Varda took me to the sky and told me everything.  I know what my task is.'

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