17. Hopes Crushed

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~ The Elvenking is Not Happy ™ and after their talk, neither is Wynne (or Legolas). ~


17. Hopes Crushed

"Will you walk with me?" It sounded more like an order than a request.

Wynne followed Thranduil along the river. Her steps crunched on the gravel but his were entirely soundless.

She had a bad feeling about this, and a strong suspicion of what Thranduil would say. It felt a lot like when she had done something forbidden as a child and was anticipating Mother's punishment. Just like then her mouth had gone dry as dust and her palms were sweaty.

At last he stopped and began talking. "I have noticed lately that you and my son are becoming close."

She nodded, swallowing nervously. There was no use denying it.

"Legolas is very young – for an elf – yet he has fought several battles, witnessed nameless horrors and seen death in the eye. Despite this he has not been much exposed to the common world. Or to females." He gave her a meaningful look. "Legolas could easily be misled by an innocent, sweet girl like yourself."

Wynne scowled. Thranduil made Legolas seem like an immature teen, a notion that would have made her laugh in other circumstances.

"I am sure you mean well," he continued. "You think that you love him, am I not right?" He regarded her imploringly. "I take your silence as an affirmation. However, at your age one cannot always discern between love and desire." He paused. "You are shaking your head, but remember that I am your senior by several millennia. Please rely on my greater knowledge and experience in these matters."

He began to walk again and Wynne demurely followed a few steps behind.

"Then there is the question of station. Even if your feelings were to grow into real, mutual love, Legolas is the heir to my throne. My people would never accept a human woman as queen. He would be disgraced, publicly shamed."

That was an aspect Wynne had not considered. Mother had seemed so certain she could procure an alliance between the House Örn and the elves, but now it was obvious her plan had been uninformed and overly optimistic.

"My last objection to this match is the most grave. You, my lady, are a mortal, whereas Legolas will never die a natural death. You would force him to watch you grow old and pass away. And elves do not take grief well." She saw the same sadness in his eyes that he had shown once before and knew he was referring to his deceased wife. "Imagine an eternity away from your beloved. Never able to forget her, always missing her. For, elves love only once."

Tears pricked Wynne's eyes. Thranduil was right. How could she not have thought of that herself?

It had been a foolish dream. One that could never be.

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