Thranduil and Violet were engaged in training one morning after the dwarves arrived since the sun had risen. Her stitches had been taken out, and the bruise was almost healed completely due to the wonders of Elven healing. He had allowed her to use a wooden sword now, teaching her each move individually before showing her how to put them together. As she came to swing at him, he knocked it out of her hands and swung her into his arms, his front against her back and his own wooden sword across her throat.
He leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Dead."
Thranduil took delight in watching goosebumps appear on the witch's skin, and for a moment he wanted to place a kiss on them to see what would happen then. But the Elven-king had far too much restraint for such a notion, especially when he could see his brother and son watching them both with guarded eyes.
He cleared his throat and released her, bending down to pick her sword off the ground, tossing it at her handle first. He desperately ignored the red that was painted on her cheeks, and tried to push the evil out of his mind that reminded him that he put it there. Or perhaps it was the good that reminded him? He wasn't much sure he could tell the difference between the two anymore.
"Again!" he said, resuming the proper stance. She attacked first, and he allowed her to push him back, blocking each strike she sent with his own. And when she swung herself around, intending to slash him from the side, he came up quickly from behind her, blocking her sword with his. It resulted in a momentary struggle with Violet giving up rather quickly. "You cannot give up just because for a moment it looks like you may lose. That is how you die, mellon nîn. And I will not have you die on this battlefield. Your last breath will be over my dead body."
She looked back at him, before she turned around, breathing heavily. "I know. It's just -- I need a quick break, Thranduil. We've been at this for a long time. It's nearing mid-morning. I do not have the elven stamina that you do."
He smiled, though he was sure it looked more like a sneer. "No, you do not." Another bitter reminder of your mortality. "But if we keep training, you will have almost as good as. The more you train, the easier it will become, and you will find that these small things that you struggle with now will be like second nature. Of course, I should like more time to teach you, but I will take what I can. Now go," -- he nodded to the benches surrounding the training grounds -- "Take a quick rest. I will follow right behind you. I just need to talk to our observers for a moment."
He walked over to Legolas and Authanar, as she walked to the bench holding her things.
"Do you teach all of your students like that?" Legolas asked in their native tongue, his tone resting somewhere between teasing and bitterness. It was a strange sound to hear from his boy, but for the life of him, Thranduil had zero clue how to address it with him.
"I do not teach many students, son," Thranduil replied. Legolas smiled, but it felt mocking, and Thranduil made a mental note to at least attempt to tone down his feelings in front of his son. Knowing what his father felt was one thing, especially when Thranduil himself couldn't bring himself to admit it out loud, but knowing what his father felt for one of his best friends was another. The Elven-king turned to Authanar. "What is your council, brother?"
"Violet heavily favors her right side, and it leaves her left side open for attack. When she swings her sword, she swings it outwards, and that is what leaves her open."
"Good. I will attack her from the left then."
"Without telling her?" asked Legolas, eyebrows furrowed and eyes full of worry.
Thranduil raised his eyebrow at Legolas. "Do you think an orc is going to call his attacks out to her?"
"Alright," Legolas conceded, "But I don't think this is going to end well for you."
"I shall take my chances, son."
He nodded his head at the both of them, before walking over to Violet and sitting on the bench next to her, taking the water skin that she offered towards him. He drank from it, and wished he could recline himself back, leaning against the fence of the training grounds and letting his long legs stretch out in front of him.
Alas, he could not. Not with the eyes watching him from each different ring. Any and every soldier that was training today knew he was there, and he knew that he needed to uphold any and all pretenses of being unaffected if morale was to stay high.
If the king was weary, then what was there to train and fight for?
So, his back stayed straight and his head held high, legs crossed, with assessing eyes watching his warriors train.
Perhaps at some point during the next week, he would come and look in on them, give pointers where he can. As the king, it was his duty to do this, to ensure they would be ready for the upcoming dark years. But, as an ellon who loved his people, it was a labor of love to be in the middle of them.
The outside world thought he was a king who stayed shut up in his castle, but the Mirkwood elves knew him better than that.
And that was enough for him.
-
When they began their training once more, Thranduil did just as he said he would and attacked Violet from the left, striking her in the ribs instantly.
"Oi! That bloody well hurt!" she cried out, grasping her ribs.
"Block it, and it will not hurt," he replied, smirking at her. She sneered at him, and he smirked harder, placing his hands behind his back, walking around her as if she were the prey and he the predator. As she stood there, he noticed she was eerily still, but he did not expect her to be able to catch him off guard. When he passed her in such a way that his sword was in the hand opposite her, she struck, hitting him in the ribs back.
Thranduil hissed as he grabbed his ribs in pain, especially once he heard his son's boisterous laughter across the training yard. Violet smiled in a mocking way. "Oops? My apologies, slip of the hand, you see."
Thranduil gave her a flat look, but all her actions did was cause a fire in him that he knew would never be extinguished. An amused smile pulled at his lips, and before long, the two were pulled into bits of laughter. They looked at Legolas, and at their amusement, he began laughing once more. Soon, they were all three laughing together, and Authanar was pursing his lips and had already rolled his eyes once.
The sight of Authanar's ire made Violet's laughter turn into small snorts, and she turned her head, using Thranduil's arm as a crutch for her head to hide them. Thranduil tried his best to quieten down his own laughter as Legolas tilted his head in question.
'Snorting', Thranduil mouthed, as another boisterous laugh sprang from Legolas.
"Don't you laugh at me, Greenleaf," Violet called out.
"How can I not?" he called back, "The last time I saw you snort--"
"Shut up!" Violet yelled, turning to hide her face once more into the arm of the Elven-king. Her head moved to his shoulder as he brought the arm up around her to rub her shoulder affectionately, but he knew it helped little, for she could still feel the vibrations of his laughter.
The laughter quickly came to an end as the sound of multiple heavy footsteps entering the training yard. Thranduil let go of her, a silent notion that fun time was over, and she moved off of him.
"King Oakenshield," Thranduil greeted, "Have you come to train?"
"More like we have come as observers. We noticed you and Violet were sparring. We have only seen Violet use a sword once. We wish to see her improvement, or lack thereof." He was smirking, trying to illicit some reaction from the Elven-king.
He would have to poke and prod harder than that, for Thranduil just gave a singular nod. "And you, Mithrandir? Have you come to train? Master Baggins?"
"Oh, no," Bilbo said, shaking his head quickly, "No, no. No, thank you."
The Elven-king allowed the amusement to show on his face as he looked down at the halfling. "Very well. I shan't force you." -- he turned to Violet -- "Are you ready, Violet?"
She nodded. "Yes, my lord."
He grabbed her upper arm, shaking his head. "'Tis still Thranduil in front of them. Use my name."
She smiled, looking up at him. "Very well, Thranduil. Now, let's dance."
They got in position, leaving The Company, Legolas, and Authanar standing at the edge of the ring.
"Show them what you have learned so far," Thranduil whispered, eyes gleaming in delight as they looked into hers. Perhaps it was a rather possessive move of him, wanting the dwarves to understand just how much his witch has flourished under his care and tutelage.
He attacked first, using the moves that he had taught her how to counter. She countered them, albeit not so gracefully. They still needed to work on that. Still, she was countering them, and that meant something.
He watched as sweat beaded on her forehead, and her breathing became heavier. He gritted his teeth, willing himself not to become distracted by her, and in a sneaky move, struck her to the left once more. Her sword was a second too late, allowing her to get banged in the ribs again, and she hissed through her teeth.
"Ow!" she said, continuing her assault.
"Block it, and you won't have to say ow," he said, amused. It wasn't much longer after that he managed to knock her sword out of her hand. She rushed for it, as she was taught, and when he kicked it away, his sword to her throat pinned her to the ground. "Yield."
She smiled at him, and the next thing he knew, he was thrown back several feet. She got up quickly, pointing her wand at him. "You yield."
He was grinning, and he knew it. He wasn't afraid to show it in front of the dwarves, either. He was proud of her and she deserved to know it. He pushed himself out of the dirt and said, "Brilliant, Violet!"
"Yield," she said, continuing to point her wand at him.
He put his hands up, throwing his sword in front of him. "I yield. You win."
She ran forward, moving his sword away from him and putting it back behind her with her own. It was only then that she lowered her wand away from him. He had taught her that in passing, and she remembered. Do not put down your weapon until your opponent yields, and you move their weapons away from them.
She stared at him, grinning. "So, you really think bringing out the wand was a smart move?"
"It was a fantastic move," Thorin said. Thranduil and Violet both looked at him. Thorin opened his mouth, hesitating, before he said, "You have... done well teaching her."
"Thank you," Thranduil said, inclining his head a bit. He looked back to Gandalf, who was looking between him and the dwarf like a child who had gotten their favorite sweet. "Mithrandir..."
"Yes?" he asked innocently.
"There's no need to look so pleased with yourself."
"Oh, but I am pleased. You and Thorin, working together, being nice to each other..." he trailed off, "I never thought I would see the day. And what you've done with my girl! She's positively glowing."
Thranduil saw Violet dip her head out the corner of his eye, that beautiful red staining her cheeks again. The corner of his lips tipped up. "That was not all me, I assure you. It seems the forest agrees with her."
"That it does," Violet said. She turned to look at Thranduil. "Ready to get back to work?"
He held out his hand, waiting for his sword. She placed it there, waiting until he got a grip on it to let go. While everyone else began filing out, Thorin stayed where he was, hands clasped behind his back.
"Do you mind if I stay and watch?"
Thorin Oakenshield was putting aside his own pride and extending an olive branch to Thranduil.
"By all means," Thranduil said, inclining his head once more. He chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment. "If you see somewhere that she can improve, do say so." Thorin inclined his own head, and extended his arm to Thranduil, who clasped the dwarf's forearm, albeit with hesitation. When Thorin clasped the ellon's back, it was done. The alliance of the dwarves and elves was sealed, temporarily. "We are two kings, and we love our people. We will never be friends, but... at the least, I will consider you my ally until this business with Sauron is finished."
For her and for my kingdom. And it seemed as if Thorin understood this, and agreed. Thranduil had made Violet's leadership difficult enough with his own stubbornness already, and if he thought he knew the Mountain King, then he was certain it wasn't much different. The Elven-king had made a promise to the witch that stood by his side, and it was a promise he intended to keep.
Thranduil didn't make promises just to break them.
Together, the two kings pushed Violet as hard as they could. Thranduil knew exactly where to poke Violet to make her annoyed, and then what sweet words to use to soothe those aches. Multiple times did he see the dwarf stare at him bewildered when Violet would be close to giving up and the ellon was able to renew her motivation and strength with just a few words.
Thorin didn't know that Violet was doing the exact same thing to Thranduil. Though, he also didn't realize that he too was helping the ellon.
Each and every time he adjusted Violet using his hands sent a fresh wave of irritation through Thranduil, and irritation was always a good motivator.
Thranduil watched as the dwarf covered her waist with his hands, adjusting her to the correct stance, making the ellon grit his teeth. He even contemplated going easier on Violet than he already was, just so she'd do well enough to keep Thorin's hands away from her.
The only thing that gave the Elven-king pause at that moment was that he already knew of the nature of Violet's feelings towards him. Over the course of his long life, Thranduil had learned to read people, even those who tried to hide their feelings well. Such a skill was necessary to live with the stoic elves.
And Violet was so terrible at hiding her feelings. It would have been obvious to an infant.
He knew his own feelings were quite obvious to those closest to him, which was why Authanar had a near permanent eye roll anytime the witch was near. He disapproved.
Thranduil prided himself on knowing his son well, but Legolas's feelings on the matter were more complicated. They were like the One Ring, lost to the entirety of Middle-Earth and would only present when they decided.
Before he knew it, more volatile and agonizing hours of training were over, which meant Thranduil no longer had to watch as Thorin adjusted Violet for the millionth time. Sometime during the training, he must have slipped up, because now Thorin would smirk his way every time he did it.
"I do believe that's enough for the day," Thorin said, "Violet seems tired. For a matter of fact, so do you Thranduil."
The ellon gritted his teeth. "Elves do not easily run out of stamina. I assure you, I am fine."
"But I do, and Thorin is correct," Violet said, huffing out breaths and handing the Elven-king the wooden sword, "Were you coming at me harder for a reason, Thranduil?"
Thorin grinned. "Yes, was there a reason for that?"
"You know, I've heard the cells look wonderful this time of year. Care to find out?" Thranduil asked, glaring at the dwarf.
"No, but thank you for the offer. I'm going to check on Fili and Kili and make sure they haven't set fire to anywhere."
"In case it was not obvious enough, anything they break you will be paying for."
Thorin nodded. "You have my word."
That does not mean much to me. Your grandfather also gave me his. He wanted to say that, but instead he just nodded. Thorin took his leave from them, then, sauntering away with all the haughtiness that befits his station as king. Thranduil himself knew that walk well. His eyes didn't stray from that spot where Thorin was, and he could feel his eye twitching in annoyance. He heard the witch by his side let out a soft peal of laughter before her hand came to sit on his bicep, rubbing back and forth with her thumb.
"The dwarves getting on your nerves already?" she asked. He nodded, and another small soft peal of laughter came. "They've been here less than a week, Thran."
"They are very mentally exhausting," he said, smiling at her, "Very loud and boisterous in a different way than elves are."
"I understand. The same thing happened to me when it was just me, Mithrandir, and Bilbo on the road with them."
"At least our nights are free of them," he said, daydreaming about the coming night. Ten straight hours of freedom. He nodded his head towards the palace. "Go. Take your mid-day meal. If you feel up to it, we can train more late this afternoon."
"Alright." She smiled at him, walking away, before stopping. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow at her stop. He watched as she turned around, asking, "Would you join me?"
Yes! his heart screamed.
That couldn't be the case today. "Unfortunately, I have a meeting to attend..."
She smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes and he felt guilt piling in his stomach, though he knew he truly couldn't. "I understand."
Violet turned around, but Thranduil spoke again, sounding frantic, "I- I want to! I hope you know that."
She turned around once more, walking backwards. "I really do understand, Thranduil. We can do it another time."
He nodded and watched as she left, moving to put the practice swords in their rightful spots when he could no longer see her. He sighed, going to his rooms to change into more formal clothing. He had one of his subjects coming in today to make a formal complaint. He couldn't look like he took a fall down the side of a mountain.
He moved quickly, taken the hidden passages that few people knew about. Sure, perhaps nobody would ever dare to tell the king he was late, but if someone travelled throughout the realm to speak with him personally, then he would not be rude to them. Using a raven would have been much faster, which means whatever the situation is, is dire.
Thranduil quickly bathed, allowing the hot water to seep into his skin for a moment. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back.
Just a moment.
But as quickly as the moment came, it was gone again. He sighed, sitting up and making sure his skin was free of the dirt from the training grounds. He climbed out of the bath, not caring about the water that was dripping off of him onto the floor. And not for the first time, he wished elves could sleep, truly sleep. One where they were no longer aware of the outside world, and it was just them and their own minds, taking rest and reprieve.
The closest he could get to that was being around Violet, and even then, he had to watch all of his actions when they weren't alone, because he was the king and because he had the constant eyes of everyone on him, even his own family's.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
He dressed himself in a dark green tunic with white stitching that landed at his mid-thigh. There was a piece of fabric covering heavy snaps on his shoulders to attach his cape of the same color. Brown leggings covered his legs and leather boots perfectly molded to his feet came to just above his knee. He placed his rings on his hands. One with a big light blue gemstone, and silver pieces sticking out that resembled branches. The others also all resembled branches, but none had gemstones, instead just wrapping around his fingers. He brushed his hair, making sure not one hair was out of place, before he placed the crown of woodland leaves and white trilliums on his head. He attached the cape to his shoulders, grabbed his carved oak staff, and after taking a deep breath, he strolled out of his room like the king he knew he was.
When he got to the Council Chamber, a guard turned out and called out, "All rise for the King!"
He saw Feriion, Heriion, Arahaelon, and Authanar standing. He strolled past them all, sitting down in the carved wooden captain's chair at the head of the table. Once they knew he was firmly seated, they followed suit.
They had barely sat before Feriion burst out, "Dwarves, my lord? Truly?"
Thranduil refrained from rolling his eyes. "Yes, Feriion. I am no more happy than you are about it, but their homeland is what Sauron has his eyes set on. For now, the dwarves are our allies."
"I believe it to be wise," Arahaelon said, pushing his dark brown hair from his shoulder, "A strong alliance between Erebor and Mirkwood could prove most beneficial."
Thranduil tilted his head to the side, giving his infamous stare to the ellon. "You believe it is something we should make long term?"
"No!" Feriion said, "Have you forgotten what Thror did?"
The Elven-king felt his fingers clench his staff tighter and he willed himself to be calm as he said, "Of course not. How could I? But right now, we need them as much as they need us, and they're in our home. We have the advantage here. Thorin Oakenshield seems to be every bit as arrogant as his grandfather, and every bit as greedy. However, I will give him the chance to prove otherwise, and if not, well, as I said, they're in our home."
"But--"
"That is my final word, Feriion. I respect you. Do not diminish that respect with foolishness." Then, he turned to Heriion, Feriion's brother. "What do you think, Heriion?"
The ellon avoided his brother's eyes as he said, "I agree with you, my lord."
Thranduil gave him a fake smile. "And I am glad to hear it." --he turned to Authanar-- "And you, brother?"
"I have already told you my feelings, muindor. I do not like them, but I trust your judgment and am willing to put up with it. You are my king."
A real smile came to the Elven-king's face that time. "Very well," he said, as he turned to Arahaelon, "Your name means 'wise man', and who else could be so befitting a name? If you truly believe that a long-term alliance with the dwarves will strengthen us, then I will give it due consideration after this business with Sauron is over. For now, that requires my full attention."
Arahaelon inclined his head in respect. "I can ask no more than that, my lord."
"Anything else to add, Feriion?"
"Only that I have trusted you to rule for almost three-thousand years, my lord, and I have been by your side even longer. You have never let this kingdom down in those three-thousand years, and I have no reason to doubt that you plan to do that now. Forgive my insolence."
"There is nothing to forgive," Thranduil said gently, "You were only doing what you're supposed to do. You are here specifically to council me, even when your council differs from everybody else. Nay, especially when when your council differs from everybody else. Now, what other news is there?"
Heriion went on for the next hour about the Feast of Starlight that would be taking place the next month, taking his time explaining each financial decision he was making about it. Thranduil adored the Feast, and was happy that he knew where his money was going, but if Heriion didn't stop talking soon, his eye was going to start twitching again.
"So, I was thinking that we use this material for the plates. Last year, too many ellons and elleths got too drunk and we lost a lot of our good china. It cost a lot of gold to replace those and--"
"Heriion," Thranduil said, holding his hand up, "Please, use whatever material you believe to be the best. I trust your decision on this. I trust you handling my money. You don't have to run every decision by me. I put you in charge of the feast this year for a reason."
Heriion blushed. "Yes, my lord. I apologize."
"No need for apologies," Thranduil said, waving him off, "Is there any other pressing business?"
"More spiders. If we cannot keep the lands clear, they will begin laying nests inside of our borders," Authanar said.
"Then double the watch on our borders, and I want patrols around every village. My people should not have to fear leaving their homes, and I will ensure they won't, even if I have to slay every spider myself. Those patrols need to keep our forest clear of those foul creatures."
"On your orders, my king." Authanar nodded at a guard, who came over. He whispered in the guard's ear, presumably to tell them to inform Tauriel about the patrol changes and to get to work on it. "Now, I believe you know there is an elleth here to see you." Thranduil nodded. "Are you ready for her?" Another nod. Thranduil kept his face schooled as the door opened, and a young elleth walked in, no more than four hundred years old.
She curtsied to the Elven-king. "My lord. Carcasses of our animals are beginning to show up around the edges of the forest not far from your palace. I live around two days march away to the north, still residing on the edges of the forest. I hunt these animals and sell them not only to your house, but to other villages in our beloved forest. I know it to be the doing of orcs."
Thranduil raised an eyebrow. "Know it?"
She nodded. "I know it. I have seen them with my own eyes. I narrowly escaped with my own life when I did. My lord, we cannot let this continue. They are eating our food and stealing my livelihood, which goes directly back into your treasury. And it's just disrespectful how they are treating their food anyways. My lord, they do not kill the animal before they eat it, and then they just leave the bones where they ate them at."
"How long have you noticed this happening?"
"Not long at all, sir. Three days at the most? But it's happening morning, noon, and night."
He stood up, handed his staff to Authanar, and walked over to the young elleth, taking one of her hands in both of his. "Thank you for telling me about this. The Crown will pay for any wages you lost and to compensate for your time in coming here, and we will also be sending an escort to take you back home and investigate to help us understand why. I am hopeful that we will be able to find and rectify this problem with ease."
She raised his hand, kissing one of his rings. "Thank you, my lord."
He smiled at her, and allowed her to be escorted out. "Heriion, please see to the financial portion of that issue, and make sure she is well paid. Arahaelon, I trust you to send an escort best suited to getting the elleth home safely and investigating."
Both ellons bowed, excusing themselves. Thranduil took his staff back from Authanar.
"Well, if that is all, I will be leaving now."
He walked quickly out of the room, making it to his study as fast as possible. The ellon had had enough of people and needed an hour to himself, at the least. And when he arrived he closed the door, pulled his crown off and sighed, pouring himself a glass of wine. He sipped on it, falling into that state of half-awake and half-asleep, walking amongst his dreams.
And if you asked him, no, Violet Potter was most definitely not there.
-
That night, he dined with only Legolas, Authanar, and Violet. He had no reasons to spend time with the dwarves or Gandalf, and he certainly wasn't going to find one to do that. But, of course, fate had other plans after dinner.
"So, how are you feeling with the dwarves here?" Gandalf asked, standing beside Thranduil when he found him on the balcony that night.
"I do believe I'm on the road to becoming a drunkard," Thranduil said, smiling in a sardonic manner. He held up his goblet that was full of wine as proof, pointing to the half-full jug sitting on a table he had brought.
"When did you realize that you were falling in love with her?" Thranduil turned his head so fast that he would have given himself whiplash if he was human. His grip tightened on his goblet enough that he could hear his rings scraping it, and he was sure his hand had turned whiter than it was.
"Mithrandir," he said, "I am not sure of what you speak."
But then he took a big gulp of wine as he turned his head back, shaking it a bit in nervousness.
"It's okay, you know. To love her. To enjoy the feeling of falling in love with her."
"She is mortal," he reminded bitterly, "And I will have to lose her to the grips of death faster than I can blink." Against his better judgment, a tear fell from the eye Gandalf couldn't see and Thranduil tried to discreetly brush it away.
"You know, wizards and witches live a longer life than normal humans. Shorter than the Dúnedain, but still longer than normal humans. And the wizards and witches who have done remarkable deeds in their life are welcome in the Undying Lands to be reborn after they die, similar to how all the Maia have been. They are servants of the Valar just as much as I am. And believe me, out of all that have been granted permission already, Violet Potter will be allowed there, and she will go, especially if she finds out her parents are there."
"Do not talk to me of her death!" he yelled so loudly that he would not be surprised if the whole of Middle-Earth heard him. Guards ran to him, swords drawn, looking for the danger that had befallen their king. He dismissed them in Sindarin, assuring him that he was in no physical danger. Turning back to Gandalf, he hissed, "I will still have to watch as she ages. I will have to watch as it gets harder for her to move around, as she thins and becomes frail. I will have to watch as she takes her last breath."
"Nobody wishes for the unsavory circumstances that life gives you. What defines those times are what you do with them. Would you rather not have her at all?"
Thranduil turned to walk out of the room at a brisk pace. "I have to go. I promised Violet I would meet her in the training grounds."
"In the middle of the night when she's sleeping?"
Thranduil stopped. "I do not believe 'tis your business where I go in my own home." But by the door, he used his hand to catch the frame, stopping himself from leaving. "No." -- he looked at Gandalf -- "I will tell her. Soon. This I promise you."
Gandalf gave the ellon a soft smile, pride in his eyes. "I just want happiness for her, for you both."
Thranduil was surprised at the notion, but he smiled back, nonetheless. "Thank you, Mithrandir. You have always given wise council." With one final nod, Thranduil left the room.