Several days passed.
Elu checked on the newborn foal regularly, sometimes several times a day. She often sat with the mother and her baby, curled up in the straw next to them, petting them and speaking gently to them. The mare almost seemed to have an inner knowledge that her offspring was alive thanks to Elu's efforts, and accepted her presence. The foal himself was always eager to see her, and often trotted over on spindly little legs to greet her on her approach.
Thranduil spoke to no-one of what had happened that day in the stable. Instead, he spent long hours through the darkness assessing what he'd witnessed, the miracle that she'd performed by giving the young animal the gift of life.
Was she a wizard? He didn't think so.
A witch? No.
But he sensed some deeper magic, an inner light that had glowed bright enough for him to see as she'd worked on the helpless being on the floor. Nobody else had mentioned seeing the glow, and he reached the conclusion that only he had been privileged enough or wise enough to see it. Magic was one of his inbred traits; a gift passed through to him via his royal lineage. He could heal in areas and to a depth where his healers were unable to, and he knew things that no other living being could ever comprehend.
But Elu remained a mystery to him.
His clever mind cast a hundred thousand different thoughts as he tried to work out what it was about her. She wasn't an angel, and she wasn't some ethereal being like Galadriel. She seemed to be a reasonably normal elleth, albeit one who'd managed to torment the life out of him and drive him almost insane for three hundred years. The prominence of her eyes had distracted him hundreds of times over the decades, and several times he'd been lucky to escape from battle with his life as his mind had wandered to thinking about the dark blue irises.
The thought came to mind that in times of trouble, her eyes had always come to him in his sleep, not just on the run-up to the full moon. When his son had left the realm in a fit of temper after a heated argument, her eyes had been an almost constant companion until his return several months later.
When Fennion, his closest guard had fallen in battle, her eyes had appeared that very same night. He'd been too distraught to realise the significance, but they'd been with him through the night nevertheless.
He'd spent over a week bedridden under the care of Assana when he'd taken an arrow in his right thigh, and the blue eyes had again drifted to the front of his hazy mind as he'd slept. The painkilling herbal concoction he'd been given hadn't dimmed the intensity of the dark blue in the slightest.
He took a deep breath and turned his gaze to the window, watching the first streaks of daylight appear above the tops of the trees on the horizon. His heart and soul were no less restless than they'd been hours earlier, when the skies overhead had darkened and his kingdom had settled down to sleep. Normally the sounds of night were comforting to him as he pondered matters of his realm, but not recently. His spirit became increasingly over-wrought with the knowledge that she was close by somewhere; somewhere in the depths of his palace she was either asleep, or padding around barefoot as she seemed to favour.
In the gloomy darkness of the stable, Elu sat with only a solitary lantern casting a soft light onto the two sleeping animals by her side. The foal was curled on his side leaning against his mother, who dozed peacefully, content in the knowledge that she was within touching distance of her child. The elleth leaned against the mare's opposite shoulder, gently stroking her mane.
Thranduil's demeanour towards her had changed. He no longer glared at her and treated her like she was the rebirth of evil.
He simply ignored her completely.
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.
"Setbacks which I cannot afford to have," he said. "Losses I cannot justify. Explanations I do not have. Elvish life that cannot be replaced. Anguished families that I cannot console."
"I will assist in any way you think best, my Lord," Melderion said quietly.
Thranduil tipped his head back a little and his eyes wandered to the high roof. The current situation meant that Elu would be in the palace a little longer than he'd anticipated. Ealan wasn't yet fit to travel, let alone reside in a half-constructed home with no fresh water supply or livestock.
He pursed his mouth. "You may accompany me this night as the families of the fallen come to pay their respects," he said finally.
"Certainly, my Lord," he replied. "I had anticipated this task beforehand, and have instructed your maid to select your finest attire and prepare a bath for you."
The King inclined his head slightly. "I will bathe upon my return," he decided. "I do not wish to delay what is undoubtedly going to be a harrowing experience, fraught with anguish and sorrow."
Melderion nodded slightly. "I understand," he said. "Do you wish for something to eat before you attend?"
He shook his head. "No. That too can wait until afterwards. Come; we shall make our way down to where they will be gathering."
The two elves left the room and walked side by side down the dark hallway, an uncommon practice in the royal household. Melderion knew his King needed him for what he was about to face, and Thranduil was silently grateful for his loyal aide's quiet support.
*****
Ealan tossed an orange into the air several times as he eyed his sister. Elu was swinging a heavy mallet over her shoulder, hammering a fence-post into the ground.
"Do you really think that you ought to be doing such a task?" he enquired, bouncing the fruit. "Perhaps one of the stable hands should be doing that."
She huffed impatiently and used her shoulder to shift her hair out of her eyes. "This has been broken for the last week, and not one of them has bothered to fix it," she said. The mallet thudded onto the top of the fence post, and it sank a little deeper into the soil. "And they wonder why the goats are wandering off and chewing everything they can find."
"I still think it is far too heavy a task for you to be undertaking," he muttered.
"Oh shut up," she scowled, panting hard. "These things do not tend to themselves."
"It would seem that we shall be here with his Majesty's hospitality for some time yet," he said, ignoring her.
"How so?" The mallet thumped down again.
"I heard word amongst the guards earlier this day," he answered. "A group of spiders attacked those working on our village and killed four of them."
Elu stopped, staring at her brother in horror. "Oh no," she gasped. "What happened?"
He shrugged, still tossing the orange. "Seemingly they just burst from nowhere and started attacking the elves," he said. "The King is furious, from what I hear."
"Can you blame him? Each elvish life is precious to him – these are his people. He cares about them," she said. She resumed her task. "And I would wager he rather fancies having the palace to himself again, as opposed to having us roam around disturbing his peace."
"I cannot imagine how put out he must be feeling," Ealan admitted. "Stop what you are doing and share this with me." He held out the fruit.
She shook her head. "I will rest once this is finished," she told him. Wiping her forearm across her forehead, she took a deep breath. The cool breeze flattened her tunic against her back, making the damp fabric stick to her hot skin.
Unknown to her, ice blue eyes watched her from a distance. Thranduil scowled and beckoned a farm hand over, issuing curt instructions before turning away and disappearing.
"My Lady."
Elu turned in surprise.
"My Lord Thranduil has ordered for you to cease your work," the servant said humbly. "He wishes for you to rest."
She frowned, glancing over his shoulder towards the shadows of the palace.
"I would listen to him, sister," Ealan advised through a mouthful of orange. "You do not wish to irk the King, particularly by disobeying him."
Reluctantly, she released her hold on the mallet and it toppled to the ground at her feet. "Very well," she said to the servant. "I will do as you have said."
"Very good, my Lady," he replied with a short bow.
Her eyes followed him as he retreated, before flickering up to a slight movement in one of the upper windows. The window remained still, and she wondered if she'd imagined it.
"I am going in to bathe," she said, turning back to her brother. "Are you coming inside? I can take you back to Assana on my way."
He nodded, awkwardly hoisting himself to his feet. "Yes. I fear she will give me a hard time for being away from her eagle-eyes for so long," he said. "Are you certain you do not want some of this?"
She shook her head as the fruit appeared before her again. "No. I am not hungry right now. I shall eat come dinner time tonight. Bathing is more of a priority for me just now. I smell."
He chuckled as he looped his arm through hers, and the two of them slowly walked towards the far end of the palace.
Elu dropped him off with the irate healer, laughing as she backed off and left them to bicker about why he'd indeed been away for too long, and how was he supposed to heal properly if she couldn't keep a watchful eye over him? She made her way towards the room where the elleths from her village spent each night, with the intention of retrieving clean clothes for after her bath.
Walking with her head down, she smacked into something solid, and bounced back a step with a gasp.
"My Lord," she said, her cheeks red as she bowed.
Thranduil stood stock still in the hallway, inches from her.
"I apologise," she said. "I was careless and did not pay attention to where I was going."
His silence made her hesitantly look up at him.
"I see that yet again you insist on working yourself to the bone," he said coolly, after a few moments of tense silence.
She swallowed. "I only wish to help where I can."
He stared at her down his aristocratic nose. "Sore hands...again?" The question sounded more like a sneer than a genuine inquiry.
She opened her hands, turning them over to look at her palms. Two new blisters had appeared on the soft flesh. "Nothing that will not heal, my Lord," she answered.
He took a step closer. "You have nothing to prove," he said. His voice was cold and hard. "You have no favours to gain."
"I do not understand," she said, blinking in confusion.
The flames of the torches in the corridor flickered, casting shadows on his perfectly sculpted cheekbones. "There are no benefits to be earned," he told her in a low growl. "None other from your village insist on lifting a hand. Why do you?"
"I am not any other," she replied instantly. "I do not take and expect to give nothing in return. It is not my nature. It is not what I was raised to believe. I refuse to sit idle and do nothing while others toil on my behalf. My Lord." His title was added as a hasty afterthought.
He clasped his hands behind his back, rocking on the balls of his feet for a moment or two as he studied her. "Yet you still insist on taking on tasks not meant for you," he said. This time his voice held a tone that slightly resembled question; perhaps wonder. "I wonder what you can ever hope to achieve from this."
"Nothing, save my own satisfaction," she answered.
He snorted softly, and moved to step around her. "I would strongly suggest that you look in the direction in which you walk, rather than at the floor," he said over his shoulder as he walked away. "Else you will develop a habit of walking into things which cannot be moved."
Elu inhaled deeply through her nose, irritated at his attitude, his opinion, and his entire demeanour. He irritated her. He annoyed her.
And he had a cataclysmic effect on her.
Each time she set eyes on him, her insides began to quiver. Her knees trembled. Her palms began sweating. Her throat constricted, and her heart beat faster. Her words seemed to disappear on an errand of their own, abandoning her to form some sort of verbal interaction of her own accord. Most of the time, she failed.
Shaking her head with a low growl of frustration, she marched towards her intended destiny for her clothing. Any thoughts of the King had to be shelved. Preferably permanently.
*****
Elu emerged from the shared dormitory-like room, feeling fresh and clean having bathed and changed. She'd picked comfortable dark grey leggings and a long tunic top that reached halfway down her thighs. Her long hair smelled of citrus, with the waves bouncing gently down her back as she walked towards the healing wing to check on her brother.
Her head spun round as a volley of shouts and yells met her ears.
Hoards of guards and soldiers rushed past the bottom of the corridor, hastening to reach their destination. Their armour clanked and rattled as they hurried onwards, the sound of their weapons echoing along the stone towards her.
Curious, she changed direction as hurried towards them.
They continued to stream past her as she reached them, the only face she recognised being Melderion's as he came to a halt next to her.
"We are under attack, my Lady," he panted. "Please remain in the palace for your own safety. All available guards are attending and we will have the situation under control as soon as possible."
"What's happened?" she demanded.
"Orcs, my Lady," he told her. "Hundreds of them. They managed to get as close as just over two miles away from the gates. The King is leading an attack on them. Do not worry; we will be victorious." He sped off, leaving her astonished.
Orcs? The gruesome beasts were a thorn in her side, constantly reminding her of the day they took her mother from her. Destroyed her village. Slaughtered her friends. Injured her dear brother. Forced her under the shelter of a cold, hard ruler who hated her. Ruined her life.
She turned and fled, bounding back towards the room she shared with the other elleths.
"Elu? Whatever is wrong?" asked Lelliana, one of her former neighbours, as she burst in through the doorway.
"Another blasted orc attack," she replied. The mattress was stripped from her makeshift bed and she grabbed her bow. Straightening, she eyed the group of females sitting in a corner of the room, sewing. "Will any of you join me?"
Hesitant looks passed from one to the other.
She snorted in disgust and took off again. Her bare feet were silent as she hurtled back in the direction she'd come, her bow in her hand and her arrows tucked safely against her back. Within minutes she was tearing towards the stables where there were a couple of horses left behind. Vaulting up onto a beautiful white one, she gripped the reins and guided the animal out towards the gates.
A handful of guards attempted to stop her as she galloped towards them, but the horse evaded them and charged over the bridge and into the woods, followed by a volley of shouts and orders to turn back.
She ignored them.
Branches whipped against her legs as she rode through the forest, following the trail of the army who'd gone mere minutes before her. Their tracks were easy to follow, and she lay low along her mount's back as they closed the distance. Reasonably soon, she could hear the sounds of battle up ahead.
The forest opened out into a large clearing, where all hell was breaking loose. She slid off the horse and landed on a run towards the trees on the far left. Hoisting herself up, she threw one leg over a thick branch so she was sitting astride it, and nocked an arrow. She pulled it back so the feathers whispered against her cheek, closing one eye as she took aim.
The arrow shot through the air silently and thudded into the neck of a gargantuan beast who was about to cleave the head from one of the guards. It crumpled onto the ground before rolling sideways, writhing in the throes of death.
Hell became hotter.
A group of orcs snarled in anger and surrounded the guard, leaving him heavily outnumbered. Elu lined her arrows and fired with precision, taking all seven of them down rapidly. The guard gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement before racing to the aide of his comrades. Satisfied she'd helped at least one of her own, she slid from the branch and settled a little further down. The slightly lower height gave her a better angle to shoot into the mass of fighting taking place on the far side of the clearing.
Arrow after arrow flew through the air, each one deadly in accuracy and speed as orcs fell at an astonishing rate.
Her eyes flicked to Thranduil in between releasing her weapons. He moved with the grace of a dancer, twisting and turning as he fought with both blades. Effortless moves slashed throats, took heads off, and cut down the evil that stood before him. His long blonde hair swished around him as he moved, his face a blank mask of cold indifference.
Her gaze lingered just a split second too long as a hand grabbed her ankle and dragged her down from the branch. She screamed as she crashed onto her back. The impact knocked the wind from her, and she gasped as the trees swirled around her. The orc loomed over her, leering as it lifted a sharp, lethal sword.
An elvish sword swiped over her and the beast toppled to one side in a bloodied heap. Elu screamed as a hand grabbed her and dragged her to her feet.
"Get out of here!" Thranduil barked furiously. "Now!"
Her eyes widened in fear as she took a step back. His own blazed an inferno of rage as he stared at her, and she turned her back and ran. One of the guards held out an arm for her and ran with her back to her horse, where he speedily hoisted her up onto it and jumped up behind her. The animal reared up and took off, galloping through the woods away from the battle.