The sound of the fountain is comforting and I get lost in the twinkling colours that shimmer through the water when the light hits it. I scrape the charcoal pencil across the paper and roughly draw the outline of the beautiful figures that are drawn together in a passionate dance. Though the sculptured fountain is static, the figurines hold an energy about them that is unavoidable. I love it, for it is like the element of passion in life and in love. This is my new favourite piece of art, and I let my mind wander, conjuring up a history and story for this dancing couple. I hear someone approach but I am not that interested and with any luck they will just pass me by.
"Did I offend you Clara?"
He says quietly as he sits down on the ledge of the well, a few feet from where I have settled myself crossed legged with my scraps of paper. I glance up and feel my eyes widen I was not expecting him and he looks genuinely concerned. Why on earth would he worry himself? I shake my head furiously and try and find my voice;
"No of course not, I...well I just wanted to come out here and get some fresh air."
"You left in such a hurry, Oliel is worried that we frightened you off," Thranduil says softly with that lopsided smile, that would be very sweet if it were not for the deep and vein like scars that prevent him from actually forming a proper smile.
"No absolutely not, you both looked like you needed the privacy and I did not want to intrude," I ramble and Thranduil raises his hands and shakes his head.
"No Clara, no it is nothing like that, please do not get that impression that is the last thing I need being spread about the Kingdom," he pleads and I frown at him. "Oliel is an honourable elleth from a high ranking family, if she got caught up in some misguided rumour I could not live with myself."
"Um," I pause and feel rather awkward, "I was not implying that I thought you two were...you know...that close. I just meant I am a stranger and it would have been rude of me to stay."
"Oh!" He stands up straighter and opens and closes his mouth like he is grasping for the words, or looking for a way to take back what he said.
I let out a soft laugh at his embarrassment and attempt to rectify the situation for him;
"You know even if that were the case, and I know it's not so don't worry, it is actually none of mine or anyone else's business."
"Correction Clara it is the business of every elven Kingdom this side of Arda, I am a prince there are different rules for me and I have already shamed this family once," he mutters and a flash of anger crosses his features.
"Like I said it is none of my business," I smile at him and return to my rough sketching, trying to hide the intrigue his comment has stirred in me.
"You really know nothing about me do you?"
I sigh and drop the pencil, before looking up at him with an impatient look. Seriously what is with the inquisition? Why is he intent on following me around? Am I his new play thing; the shiny new toy that is keeping him entertained! I don't know much about royalty and nobility but I do know this much - people like him don't talk to nobodies like me, unless they're bored or feeling charitable.
"No your highness I don't, I really don't so please stop fretting!" Is my honest reply, for if I have learnt anything in the past few months it is that reality is much different from the garnished and idealist world of fiction.
He sits back down on the ledge and leans toward me, his eyes probing, and the one clear eye so intense and so deep that I momentarily lose my train of thought.
"Thank you," he finally murmurs and I cock my head to the side in confusion, he smiles and clarifies his statement, "For not caring, most elves in your position would be clambering to know more about my past indiscretions, so thank you for not being the stereotype."
"Don't thank me, thank the amnesia." I snort and tap my head.
"You know I still do not believe you, I know you have memories and I am more or less certain you are running from something," Thranduil comments and then smiles; "but it is none of my business, and if I had the chance to start afresh and not have certain memories I would take it, you are lucky Clara I envy you."
"Thanks I think," I mutter and shake my head in confusion, "but you are not telling me you would want to have a life without that amazing little boy of yours?"
"He is the only reason I do not runaway," he answers so truthfully that it blows me away, I cannot fathom why he wants to confide in me but I suppose it is refreshing to speak with someone who is a neutral party.
"What happened to her?" I ask quietly and dread the answer.
"To who? His Mother?" Thranduil asks in an almost cautious tone, he sighs and looks away; "I do not know what became of her, and I doubt I ever will."
Oh well that was a surprise. I was expecting a gut wrenching tale of a terrible separation. I had assumed Legolas' mother must have died possibly in child birth or maybe in something much more sinister but Thranduil makes it out like she left. I do not understand, aren't elves supposed to be like super morally uptight? My silent wonderings obviously alert the prince to my confusion and he actually laughs a sad laugh but a laugh nonetheless, I think he gets a kick out of my ignorance.
"The marriage was dissolved; she gave over full custody of Legolas to me and asked not to be involved in his life. He does not know her; he was barely more than a few months old at the time."
"So you're divorced, but I thought that was something elves don't do?" I ask the question innocently and instantly regret it...can I not just learn to keep my mouth shut?
"What kind of idealistic fantasy do you live in?" He snipe's and stands up in one fluid movement, his face suddenly appearing blank and indifferent. Hmm, I know that look; I am guilty of that look, which is the exact kind of expression I give when I attempt to convince people I am not cut up about their comments.
"Some people would say I am living in a fantasy world...literally," I grumble and begin to shuffle my sketches together. See this is why I left, this is why I thought it was wise to keep a distance, because I ask the stupid questions that everyone knows not to ask! "Look I did not mean to offend you, it is none of my business and you know what? In my experience love does not last and hey if the relationship was on the rocks it is better to get out before you only hurt yourself further."
"Love?" He raises an eyebrow and looks down at me with a patronising expression, "Clara our marriage was an arrangement for political gains, something we both consented to, love had nothing to do with it. Unfortunately it took its toll on us both, and I could not bear to see Legolas suffer because of it, so she got what she wanted; she was released from her prison sentence. "
I shake my head angrily for I know this story all too well, and it is something I affiliate with. I automatically feel more protective over Legolas, and maybe even a little envious. His father stayed, his father held to his responsibilities and that is something to be applauded. Still it is a sad tale and I am sure it was upsetting for everyone involved, so I ask no more questions, all Thranduil needs to know is that I do not judge him for it;
"Well then Legolas is lucky to have such a father as yourself," I add softly, "I wish I could have said the same thing about mine."
I clutch my papers to my chest and go to stand, my intentions are to leave out of respectfulness but Thranduil is suddenly all questions again;
"How do you mean?" He steps forward obviously intent on following me, even if I move.
"Daddy issues," I mutter and attempt to side step him but he blocks me. "What do you want?"
"I told you something very personal Clara, I did not have to but I did, I think in some strange way I trust you. Now why don't you trust me? is that not what friendships are built on?"
I glare at him my jaw clenching and unclenching as I work to control my temper. So he thinks if he drops in a few seedy details of his personal life he'll get the dirt on mine? Oh he is good, very intelligent, for a moment there I thought we were actually having an emotional conversation in which I got a glimpse of a vulnerable side of the Prince. In reality he is just downright curious as to who I am, he knows I am different and wants to suss it out for himself. I remind myself he has every right to be cautious of me, he has let me into his son's life and if the shoe was on the other foot, I'd be wanting full background checks on my kid's nanny too.
"You're letting your guard slip Clara," he teases and I feel my features grow ever more infuriated; "Now I know for certain the amnesia is just a cover!"
"Great well let's just drop the pretence," I hiss and let it all spill out in one angry onslaught. "Yes I have memories and they are all glaringly awful reminders of a life half lived. I will not bore you with the details because you wouldn't believe them, you couldn't, I can barely understand. Now please don't ask the questions if you are not prepared for the answers!"
This seems to throw him, I doubt he expected such an outburst, I doubt he ever has to deal with this sort of over emotive behaviour. But he did have to go and attempt to play a game with me. I don't play games and I certainly don't want to play mind games with an elf prince notorious for being a spoiled jerk!
"I am sorry," he eventually murmurs and looks concerned for me, it could be genuine but I am unsure now; "My curiosity has caused you pain that was not my intention."
"Oh please," I snap and level him with a disbelieving scowl, "You have been after this since you met me! You have wanted to prove me a liar for whatever reason? I guess just to highlight your intelligence and feed your ego - nothing ever gets past Thranduil he is too cunning for that! Well there you have it, I died or at least I thought I had, but then I ended up here with no actual memory of how that happened...would you like anymore gory details?"
"You died?" He gasps and pales a little; he literally looks devastated for me, his face contorted into some kind of empathy that I consider a ruse.
I then realise that I had not meant to utter the words "I died," out loud, in fact I never actually intended on saying anymore but I did. I guess this is what happens when you bury your head in the sand, eventually you can't keep pretending anymore. He steps forward a little and holds out his hand as if he wants to touch me in a comforting way, but he thinks better of it and pulls back. He frowns and searches for words that are not there, because there are none, I have none so how could he possibly have anything better to say.
"I told you not to ask!" I say with a cold voice but I can feel the tears swell in my eyes, and I quickly divert my gaze. "I have to go, I have work to do."
With that I leave and wonder off back to Oliel, whom I am supposed to shadow so I can learn my bearings. I mentally begin tucking all the nasty thoughts back into the crevices of my mind trying hard not to think about my outburst.
I could kick myself, Thranduil is a Prince, I could be severely punished for speaking to him like that. If he so chooses he could have me removed from this very realm, I need to remember it is by his compassion that I am still here and have somewhere to lay my head. Yet he gets into my head and under my skin so easily, and the scary part is I think I like it. I think part of me wants him to figure it out, for at least then someone would know and I would not feel so alone.
xXx
The pavilion is empty for it is late and the servants are gone. I have gathered that it will be only Oliel, Raffyn and I living within these quarters, the rest of the servants and guards work in shifts and have separate homes to go to. The King supposedly feels that simplicity is best and the less inference he can have in his private affairs the better. I would agree with him, I understand he probably feels very protective over his son and grandson. I have learnt from Oliel that although divorce can happen with elves it is still considered a tragedy, and something that is hush hushed within more ordinary elven families.
Unfortunately Thranduil was a prince and the ex-wife was some sort of Lady from another Kingdom. Oliel was sketchy with the details and I didn't push much for answers. I just wanted to know if what Thranduil had told me was the truth and he was not just manipulating me into divulging my own history. Regrettable he had been very honest with me and maybe even quite guarded about his true feelings; I gathered there was more to the story than Oliel was willing to tell and it was not my place to demand answers.
I have kept my distance from Thranduil since that day, almost a week ago, and he has done the same. The more I go over the conversation in my mind the more I realise he never actually made me divulge anything about myself. He had just asked me about my relationship with my father, it was me that cracked up and vented my frustrations. I just count myself lucky that he did not feel offended in some way and threw me out on the street for being so disrespectful. I guess I probably have Legolas to thank for that.
I am being gently eased into my new role as Legolas' caretaker, mostly because I am overwhelmed with so much other information. Yet we spend afternoons together and so far we have simply played or went for walks, where he teaches me my way around his grand home. Tonight though, I put him to bed and told him stories, apparently this was because his father was required to attend the healers for some follow up treatment. On any other occasion Thranduil would either himself come to retrieve his son from me, or he would send someone to collect Legolas for him. These hours spent with the child are, as usual, my most enjoyable time of day and I am growing more confident with him. I know it will take some time for Legolas to register that I am not just his friend, but also his nanny, but so far it has been without too much difficulty. He still struggles to take me seriously when I scold him, but then again even I can't take myself seriously! I sound more like an enraged mouse than a stern dictator, besides he knows all he has to do is bat his perfect little eyelashes at me and I'm a goner.
I smile absently to myself as I conjure up pictures of him in my mind's eye; how he gets unreasonable when he is tired, how he talks relentlessly without taking a breath or pausing to see if anyone is following, and how his little laugh lightens the mood of a room instantly. He captures the attention of everyone in this place without even speaking, his very presence is delightful and he is so fascinated in everyone and everything he meets. I can barely keep him entertained his curiosity is so insatiable, but he keeps me busy and seeing the world through his childlike eyes is so much more enchanting than the sombre seriousness of adulthood.
I turn my attention to my sketches on my lap; I sit crossed legged against a pillar, enjoying the quietness of night. This is a good time to draw; there is no-one around and nothing to disturb me. The lanterns overhead cast an almost starlit like light over the rock gardens of this beautiful place, and the tranquillity helps clear my cluttered mind. I do love it here even if I don't really know how or why I exist. Perhaps it is my heaven, perhaps there is something out there besides complete nothingness and whoever they are they took pity on me, and gave me another chance...I doubt I'll ever figure that one out!
"Hello?"
The voice startles me and I feel my chest constrict, as I slowly lean around the pillar and make out the tall form of the Prince standing in our lounge. I could pretend I am not here, I could just sit here and ignore him but he spoke in English so I assume he knows I am here. With a sigh I begrudgingly answer him
"Can I help you your highness?"
I leave my sketches down and rise to my feet, curtsying in his presence, I am determined to remain professional and composed;
"If you are looking for Oliel she is away for the night, she is visiting her Mother and will be back in the morning, I can pass a message on if you wish?"
"No actually I was looking for you," he says with a careful tone as he watches me warily.
Of course he is, who else would he be looking for in the dead of night when no-one else is around? I mean when else do you have awkward conversations? Dammit I should have stayed behind the pillar that was the safer option! I remain still and silent expecting him to make his opinion known.
"I bring a gift from one of the healers," Thranduil mutters as he drops his gaze and places a bundle on a couch. He waits for a few a moments but I don't speak and neither does he, awkwardly he glances upwards and sighs, "Well that was all."
"What is it?" Dammit I thought I said no asking questions, there is no talking to my mouth it literally has a will of its own.
"I think Calanon said it was paint," Thranduil replies his countenance suddenly brightening a little, "Do you paint?"
"Yes I do, it used to be my thing from before," I answer after I explicitly warned myself that I was to not say another word, and let the nice elf prince go on his merry way.
"Your thing? I do not understand what does that mean?" He asks and steps forward curiously, I know if I answer him this will turn into a conversation about me, and I don't want that. Yet part of me just longs for the company, so against better judgement I start talking...foolish girl!
"Y'know like...I don't know how you would explain it...like my profession, I was an artist."
"Fascinating, I have never met an elf whose profession was art, or at least none that I am aware of. They tend to live in more enlightened cultures; the woodland is too feral for their fairer hearts."
"Was that a back handed insult, did you just call me a coward?" I accuse out of the blue and watch in amusement as Thranduil freaks out over the insinuation. Ah elves, they are so obsessed with not being offensive and always being ever so polite, it is actually quite easy to wind them up.
"No, no absolutely not!" he cries, his expression panic stricken; "No I merely meant they are gentle souls who are not often drawn to the wildness of the woods."
"Relax, I knew what you meant," I grin and I saunter over to the chair to pick up my present, "but just so you know I love the woods, being among the trees was the only time I felt at peace in my old life, and for the most part it was where I gleaned all my inspiration from."
"Have you been outside the caves yet? Have you seen Greenwood?" His voice is suddenly excitable and his eyes have lit up, obviously he is not too concerned with the fact that I was just winding him up before.
"No, not yet," I admit guiltily.
"Then you must allow me to escort you through the wood? Oh Clara you would love it," he almost gushes and I laugh at his enthusiasm! I don't think I have ever seen him this happy about anything before.
"Yes because that would be entirely appropriate!" I scoff and he tilts his head with a perplexed look on his face, it is quite cute, he looks like his son when he does that, like some kind of baffled puppy dog. "Your highness, I am nought but a lowly nurse maid and you are a prince of elves, do you really think this is an appropriate friendship for you?"
"I can pick and choose my friend as I wish," he snorts indignantly; "besides you are not a lowly elf maid, you are a lady of my Adar's court and with that honour comes certain privileges."
"Like what exactly?" I smirk and raise an eyebrow; I swear sometimes he makes the rules as he goes along. I think he just likes to hear himself talk!
"Elevated status, preferential treatment, friendships with certain princes," he gives me a meaningful look and I actually snort with laughter.
"Does Gil-galad have a son I am not aware of?" I snigger at the scowl he gives me.
"No he does not and besides I am much better company," he sniffs and haughtily raises his chin.
"I'll take your word for it my lord," I reply with a bob of my head, "but forgive me for asking, but why does a prince want to keep company with me?"
"For you are a curious creature and you make me laugh," is his honest and deadpan reply.
"Well I am glad I entertain you," I mutter and cross my arms, "You like me because I am strange."
"Are you always so easily offended?"
"No! Are you always so blunt and tactless?"
"Not always."
Thranduil plonks himself down on the couch and throws his legs up casually; I perch timidly on the edge of said couch and watch him warily. He does appear genuine and I don't think he intends on going anywhere until I accept his request. He watches me carefully and keeps his expression smooth and unreadable as he speaks;
"I feel a certain affinity to you Clara, yet I have not the slightest idea why? I would rationalise that it is because we have both suffered certain tragedies and can relate in some way to each other, but I do not feel that is the complete truth. I believe it is something much more innocent than that, I am of the opinion that this friendship was fated. What do you feel?"
"Oh hey let's not get into feelings, I hardly know you well enough for that" I mumble and let my hair fall over my face, if just to disguise my heated cheeks, he is doing that staring thing again, that alluring persona that makes me want to spill my guts but I must resist!
"Well then give me a chance, get to know me and then form your opinions?" He asks very sincerely and I feel my blush grow ever more scarlet. "You need friends Clara; the world is a dark place without them, trust me I know."
"Yea you don't have to tell me twice," I murmur sadly and give a half smirk but I feel his weighted stare bore into me.
"You hide pain with laughter and wit, I see this yet you do not trust me enough to confide in me. Even after I confide in you, I know you believe I was manipulating you, but I swear that was not my intent. It is like I said , I am curious about you, you are different...it is refreshing."
"I am just used to people manipulating me," I answer him reluctantly, "You couldn't possibly wrap your head around my truth, and I don't expect you too. I am not ready to deal with it can you understand that?"
"More than you know," he replies solemnly and then smiles that sweet half smile; "But until then will you let me help you?"
"What makes you think I need help?" I question and he smirks, I don't think I like that look.
"Clara you are the only elf I have met that does not know how to act like an elf!" His tone is very matter of fact and I feel my eyes widen. "I do not know whether you just hit your head very hard, or you actually have no memories of being an elf? Either way I do not need to know, but honestly it is something we need to work on because no child of mine is going to pick up your absurd habits."
"I resent that!" I snipe and he laughs.
"Do you know what he called Ithril to her face this morning?" he asks calmly and I bite my lip and shake my head; "He called her a, 'Gobdaw,' now I have no idea what that means but it sounds like an insult."
Shitshitshitshitshit I am gonna kill him! I am gonna throttle that boy! What part of 'Legolas just pretend you didn't hear that,' did he not understand? I face palm myself and I am pretty sure I am a delightful shade of crimson;
"Yea it's an insult but in my defence I didn't think Legolas heard me say it," I decided to be honest because they're elves...not stupid.
"Clara!" he clasps his hand to his forehead in a dramatic gesture; "He hears everything, he sees everything, I swear in Eru's name that son of mine can tell my very thoughts. He mimics everything, so please mind your tongue - I mean it! He once overheard me calling Lord Elrond an incredibly dull elf who is so full of woe, needless to say the next time my darling son was in Elrond's presence he took it upon himself to relay this to him."
"But he is a bit dull?" I add with a meaningful look.
"Yes and I am sure Ithril Is a Gobdaw, but please do not encourage him! These are habits he cannot learn, particular your strange dialect. I shall have every noble elf in Arda questioning my ability to parent my son," he splutters and then pauses for a thoughtful moment and shrugs, "more than they already are."
"Please," I howl with laughter into my hands and refuse to look at him; "Please Thranduil, do not ever say 'Gobdaw,' in my presence again I cannot cope! You have no idea it is too wrong, I am upsetting the balance of things."
"Is it that bad? What did I say?" he cries in alarm and glares disapprovingly at me, "Clara what did you teach my son? I told Ithril it must be some kind of bird."
"Stop! Just stop, you are slaying me," I clutch my side and try to regain my composure, but every time I try to look at him I kink up into another fit of giggles. The Irish insult sounds too perfect and strange in his melodic speech.
Eventually he gives up trying to understand me and just starts laughing at me instead. We carry on like this for a little while until I literally cannot laugh anymore. We converse for a bit, mostly about Legolas and how incredible he is. Thranduil openly gushes about his son and the pride he has for the child literally radiates from him. There is no doubt about it this elf is totally and unconditionally in love with his little boy. It is lovely to witness and I feel incredibly privileged for Thranduil to share this side of himself with me. It is crazy but I feel completely at ease talking with him, it comes naturally for us and that excites me. Although warning bells are ringing like crazy in my ears, I can't help it I want to know him. I actively choose to ignore my rational mind when it tells me he is a prince, who is slightly unhinged by his own admittance and still recovering from a terrible war wound. Thranduil is unpredictable, dangerous and manipulative, but he is also very charming, sweet and giving of himself. Basically I think he is a sociopath but then again, I am a dead girl living in a fictional world, I think I win the crazy contest!
I forget the time or even the place until Thranduil decides he should leave before his Adar comes looking for him. It is only then I realise it must be past midnight, because everything is in quietness and most of the lanterns have fizzled out. I blush and apologise for delaying him, after all he only came to drop off a gift. He just laughs off my apology and stands to leave, I already feel slightly saddened - I like him. Aw hell I promised myself I would not do this, I would keep my distance, but it seems we are indeed fated to collide with each other. Well I may as well ride this wave, it's not like I can do anything else, besides he is right I need friends.
"Do you need help walking back?" I ask innocently noting he has no crutch and is still limping a little.
"No!" He replies breezily and a look of steely determination crosses his features which makes me chuckle, the sound makes him frown; "Is something funny?"
"You are so bloody determined to do your own thing; I bet that stubborn streak gets you into trouble?" I snigger and he smirks and shakes his fair head.
"I don't see it that way, but the healers would probably agree with you," he winks at me and pauses for a moment in the doorway of the exit. "Thank you for tonight, I told you that you would enjoy my company."
I snort and roll my eyes, he is quite the charmer but a little full of himself. Still Oliel was right there is something endearing about him and I shall attempt to not be too judgmental. He walks away and leaves me to my thoughts, and I cannot help the goofy grin I have plastered over my face. I find myself sniggering quietly to myself at memories of our conversation, as I tidy the place up and attempt to get some rest. At least for tonight my mind is distracted and for a change I do not dream of the accident or dwell on dark thoughts.
***AUTHOR NOTE***
Just a little thank you to Raider-k Elf_and_an_agent Tammyt70 ...I wasn't expecting the joyful reception. You lovelies just made me giggle. Also Rousdower thanks for teaching...I would be completely tech illiterate without you! And Guys Rousdower has a humour filled ThranduilXOC story that is just a blast to read - "Second Chance" go check it out if you enjoy quirky comedies.
Last note...because I've had this questioned before...I am very well versed in LACE (laws & Customs of the Eldar). In terms of Thranduil - in this story - being "divorced" it's just the different direction I wanted to take this story in. It will become clearer later on, the complexities & reasonings behind this decision in terms of a plot. But, Avari and Silvan culture are - in Tolkien's description - not hugely different than that of men. LACE is mainly reserved for the enlightened elves (Noldor & Vanyar), however that is not to say Thranduil's people would have practiced less becoming behaviours...not at all...because they are elf & spirit bound - but more their culture may have been less rigid and more based off of survival. It's only one of my many theories, and just the particular thread I chose for this story. Thanks for reading and speak soon :)