Burn Again

Chapter 7

And yet she'd seen underneath the cold, hard exterior the day the little one had struggled to come into the world. He'd shown a tenderness that she'd never seen, and she knew within herself that very few ever saw it, if at all. His compassion for the struggling mare had spoken volumes about who he was as a person, no matter what façade he chose to exhibit to his people. Softly murmered words, gentle caresses, and the manual act of physically delivering the ailing youngster had pulled the horse through her trauma.

She'd never seen someone form such a tight connection with an animal before. And given her ability to heal and use magic, she knew for certain that he had some magic of his own which he'd used to help both animals.

Velvet ears twitched under her gentle hands as she petted Taralorn. The docile horse sighed in contentment and rested her head against her thigh. Peace flowed between the three hearts that beat together.

Unseen, Thranduil stood in the shadows across the courtyard, his eyes focusing on the scene through the partially open stable door some distance away. He swallowed as emotions reared up from nowhere. The elleth who he'd tried so hard to keep his distance from was on the straw-covered floor with the two horses, and the impulse to go to her was so strong, he had to force himself to turn away. He retreated back inside the palace.

She had to go.

*****

Aileron clasped his hands as he studied the figure before him.

Long, flawlessly straight blonde hair tipped over broad shoulders before cascading down a strong back. The curtain of silky hair shifted and rippled as the King turned to look at him. "The village is not yet completed," he stated. "I will have you tell me why."

The captain's eyes lowered to the floor in shame. "The spiders, my Lord...they have set us back considerable time," he said. "They attacked with no warning and we were completely unprepared for the ambush."

Cold blue eyes glared at the ellon. "You are guards, are you not?" he demanded.

"Yes, my Lord."

"And guards are expected to be alert and prepared to go into battle at any given time, are they not?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And an attacking enemy is not usually so generous as to announce when they intend to attack, are they?"

"No, my Lord."

"Then why in all that is sacred in this god-forsaken project were you caught unawares?!" he roared, smashing both fists onto the table in front of him. The glass of wine leapt up from the smooth surface and toppled as it came back into contact with it, spilling dark red wine over a pile of parchments. "What lame excuse do you have for your incompetence?!"

"None, my Lord," Aileron said quietly. "I beg you, my King, please forgi-"

"Silence!" he thundered, furious. "Four guards now lie dead on a cold, stone slab, waiting for their grieving families to collect them. I have to meet with them and explain why their kin breathe no more. I have to apologise and somehow try to rectify your mistake, your lack of judgement, your lapse in concentration. Tell me, my Captain...how do you suggest I approach this?"

Melderion stepped forward, having remained silent. "My Lord, if I may-"

"You may not," he snapped over his shoulder. His hard gaze turned back to Aileron. "You are confined to the palace and a suitable replacement on the village build will be found. Report to Melderion at dawn. Leave."

"Thankyou, my Lord," the captain whispered, bowing his head as he turned and quickly left the room. The door closed without a sound behind him, and the annoyed ruler turned to his closest aide.