[Author's Note: If you see this, it means I have put link to music that helps me into mood as I write this chapter. Feel free to listen to them as you read on. Let me know what you think! Happy Reading]
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[Author's Note: This is basically Leane/Thranduil fic, but noooo not in that way. There is only one ship that sail in this book and it has sailed, that is LeanexLegolas. But I thought Thrandy needs attention as well so enjoy x]
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Indossa's voice filled the extravagant study room as the advisor of the king presented his analysis on the latest trade that Mirkwood dealt with a neighboring city of men. King Thranduil has his icy eyes on him; listening intently. His gaze was unfazed and unfailing, despite how boring Indossa was to him.
A surge of threat suddenly broke upon his mind's eye.
An unknown presence of magic other than the Woodland King's appeared out of nowhere in his realm. Now he wouldn't be surprised if any entity try to slither into his realm once in a while, but sensing how close the presence was, made Thranduil's heart jumped inside his chest in an unpleasant way.
The Elven King abruptly rose up from his chair, revealing his tall, intimidating stature for all his advisors to see. The muscles on his broad shoulders that were clad in rich robe of silver and ruby tensed, though the king was mostly tense his entire life for all that everyone knows. The calm in his expression betrayed the storm that is in his sharp but ancient gaze.
Indossa halted in the middle of his speech. The audience in the room held a collective breath as they looked at their king with both expectancy and a slight dread; though none of them was sure if they had somewhat caused what seemed to be a wrath boiling beneath his thousand years eyes. Waiting to be spilled like a white hot branding iron towards anyone that dared invoke the his wrath.
"Fetch me my son and his wife," he commanded in a steady and calm tone, though everyone knew the importance of his order. Thranduil dropped the meeting and walked away from the long table towards his desk where he took his sword. That simple movement alone reflected him as a graceful, some would say legendary warrior that he was. He glanced at Indossa in particular, with a gaze so cold it was almost trapping, "Seal every entrance to the castle immediately. No one comes nor leaves until I say so."
"Yes my king."
The wise advisor of the king need not clarification from his master of what had transpired. He knew that Thranduil with all his ancient powers had sensed something off in the castle. No foreign force moved in his realm without the king knowing.
Thranduil took long strides as he left his study, his steps guided not by his physical senses, but by his inner eyes, though that did not reduce the alertness in his gaze even the slightest. He walked past the elves with his chin held high, purposeful in his every graceful, long strides. At his tangible presence of wrath that the castle was so familiar with, no one dared to stop him, or get in his way. Not when he was holding his sword- By Valar, even without his sword the king was dangerous already. A group of servants bowed their heads and parted to make way for the king. Thranduil walked past them not giving them a second thought.
Contrary to his reputation, Thranduil was not as cold and unfeeling as what the outsiders often perceived. It was just now was not the right time for pleasantries. He had an intruder to deal with.
How dare they intrude into my castle? Under my nose? Thranduil hissed inwardly.
When he finally got to where his senses led him, that wrath that plagued his soul only doubled by what he found. The Elven King unsheathed his long sword with one graceful movement of his right arm. His long, graceful fingers that were adorned with expensive rings and gems gripped the hilt of the magnificent blade worthy of a king. On his right hand he held his sword up, ready for battle, as his left hand gripped the woman's right arm almost painfully.
The female yelped in both surprise and pain as the king's grip came without warning and with such strength that forced her body to stand from her crouching position.
"Thrand–"
"What are you doing here alone on your own?" he cut her sharply, his eyes demanding for answer, "Where is your guard?"
Leane had heard of the Elven King's cold reputation, but Thranduil had always treated her with kindness- one that she knew she hardly deserved. But to see him staring at her with eyes so similar to her husband, yet far colder and fiercer, made her heart lurched down to her stomach. She immediately felt like she had done something terrible that she invoked the wrath of the Woodland King.
"I-I... I sent her away," she stuttered, trying to keep his trapping gaze while ignoring the pressure in which the king grabbed her arm.
To say that Thranduil was not pleased to hear her answer was an understatement. Leane fought hard to keep her heart steady, but her adrenaline had shot up to the roof at seeing his stature and the way he was holding his sword on his other hand. The princess suddenly felt threatened; by what, she wasn't sure yet.
"What's going on?" she inquired with anxiety heavy in her voice.
Before Thranduil could answer that question, the foreign, tangible magic that he sensed earlier suddenly appeared in the air again. So tangible and close, that it was almost as if he could smell it. The king instinctively grabbed Leane by her left wrist, pushing her gently behind him but not letting go of her.
"Get behind me," he instructed the human, standing tall in front of her as if shielding her from an invisible enemy.
Leane dared not open her mouth. She fought to keep calm and peered from behind Thranduil's arm as she was much shorter than the elf. Her eyes tried to follow where his intense gaze went, but even as Thranduil scanned every nook and cranny of the deserted garden with his sharp elven eyes, he could not locate his enemy, despite how strong the unknown magic filled the air.
Leane tried to calm down her feä inside of her with no avail. She accidentally called out to the trees and the grass around them; the branches and roots that slithered on the ground of that vast royal garden suddenly came to life, heeding her soul call for help.
Thranduil turned sharply to his side, directing his sword towards the branches of a particular lemon tree that suddenly spread out, coming alive, but not under his order.
"I'm sorry, that's just my anxiety going through the roof," Leane mumbled, sending calming thoughts down the bond that her feä had temporary formed with the trees around her.
As Thranduil processed her words, he watched as the roots and branches from the lemon tree began to retreat to its original place. He could feel the tree around him still being alive and active, yet was much calmer that they seemed to begin to return to their original stillness. Thranduil turned to see the petite woman behind him. She was breathing heavily; her eyes closed as she was taking a deep breath, as if to calm herself. The Elven King had forgotten the fact that his daughter in law bore a magic of her own; one that he, or anyone in this world was not familiar with. And when she opened her eyes, he caught a glowing bluish tint to her usually obsidian orbs before it diminished altogether.
"It was you."
The woman still regarded him with much alertness but a confused look mixed in to her expression. "T-that?" she gestured to the lemon tree, now as still as nothing ever happened to it, "Why... yes."
Thranduil had a calculating look in his expression, icy eyes narrowed slightly at his daughter in law. "And you were all alone in this garden?"
She nodded her affirmation. "Why?"
"I sensed magic that is not my own inside my castle. It brought me here," he answered, still with his perfect poker face.
"It's just me," she sighed softly in relief, "If that's what makes you go so alarmed, then please," Leane glanced at his elven sword, silently asking him to sheath it.
Upon hearing her, Thranduil exhaled and did her bidding, tucking the sheathed sword securely by his hip. He looked visibly relaxed, and so Leane's anxiety began to melt away as well.
"Don't tell me I caused a false alarm," murmured Leane questioningly, feeling somewhat relieved that Thranduil no longer giving her that icy, trapping gaze of his anymore.
The whole thing was a bit embarrassing to Thranduil and he would never ever admit that, so he pinned that on his daughter in law instead. "Why, of course you did! I am just grateful that you are alright. Had it been a real situation you might be in trouble," he grumbled. "Why have you sent your guard away?"
"I..." unable to hold her gaze any longer, Leane looked down to the ground, feeling like a scolded kid, "I don't like being followed around all the time. It makes me feel... suffocated."
Thranduil's gaze softened at her. "You are the future queen of Mirkwood," he replied with a more gentle tone this time, "It is for your own good. And the kingdom. You signed up for this when you decided to take my son's hand in marriage."
"–And I don't regret it the slightest," Leane hurriedly stated, afraid of sending the wrong impression to the king. She swallowed the lump that has formed in her throat. The fear of being found unworthy of being in the royal family; unworthy of Legolas' love and affection. The thought of being banished away and being separated from Legolas was almost crippling. In the midst of her insecurities, she steeled herself and promised the king before him. "I promise to do anything you want next time. I won't send the guards away again. I promise to be better. For the kingdom... and my husband."
Inwardly, Thranduil cursed his inability to relay his true feelings towards the young human. The silent pleading in her eyes...
As if he was about to send her away. As if she meant nothing more than the representation of his kingdom.
He would never admit it, but that look she gave him broke him inside. Centuries of hardships and sorrow that accompanied his walk upon Arda had seemed to almost rid him of all love and warmth that he made the poor girl think the worst of his intention. He felt as if he was no different than the dragon under the mountain- cruel, unfeeling; selfish. Maybe this was what this life had left him–broken. He seems inclined to hurt the ones he loved. Legolas; and now his wife too.
When had he become such a bitter person?
Thranduil swallowed. "That is not what I meant, iel nin (my daughter)".
Long, graceful fingers gently cupped the woman's cheek, so that she was looking up at him, "You are my family. You and my son are all I have left. I would have trade my kingdom, even my life to keep you both safe," he explained, his eyes softened as he looked at the woman he now had claimed as his daughter as if she was his own. "Do you understand me now?"
Leane had been preparing the worst for not following the kingdom's protocol. She would take it all and be ready, for she knew that she had been ignoring the rules in the kingdom and getting away with it by abusing her title–mostly to get away from guards or to escape to the woods on her own. She was selfish. But what Thranduil had expressed with much trouble, the sincerity and the pain emanated from the supposedly cold king as he revealed what actually lies deep in his heart...
She felt his pain down in the crevices of her heart, and she couldn't take it anymore. Without hesitation Leane wrapped her arms around her father in law's middle and hugged him. The action caught the king off guard, but nonetheless he smiled fondly at her as he slowly returned her warm embrace.
"I am sorry I raised my voice at you earlier. I was afraid," he finally admitted, "I thought you were in an imminent danger. I just want you safe. Please do not think less than that, iel nin."
Leane responded by hugging the tall elf tighter; she had misjudged him poorly. Now that she had lowered her senses, she could only feel remorse and his protectiveness towards her. Now she knew where Legolas inherited his overly protective instinct. It was from his Ada. And truth to be told, she still didn't feel deserving of all of it. Of Legolas. Thranduil. All this life.
Suddenly she felt a great sympathy for the ancient Elven King. How many people had misjudged him? He was good, he was kind. Passionate in protecting the ones he loved, even his kingdom. That much he was so much like Legolas. But he hid all that behind that cold indifference.
How lonely.
The princess loosened her hug on the Elven King to look up at him. He smiled at her benevolently, yet his steely eyes were melancholy as centuries of heartbreak peeked behind his unwavering gaze. She gripped at the sleeve of his robe, as if to gain his attention.
"You are one of the kindest, most passionate and loving person I've ever met. Don't ever believe anyone that tells you differently."
Her words were a sliver of warmth that seemed to flow deep into the crevices of his stone cold heart. If years ago anyone told him that he would meet a human girl that would be able to tug at his heartstrings, he wouldn't have believed them. Yet here was his human daughter, comforting him with the sweetest words possible.
"You are too kind," he replied softly, gently flicking her chin before casting his eyes away to his garden, "Of course I don't believe anything else less than that. No one would dare to say it to my face anyway," he said sassily, making Leane snickered at his smug attitude.
Someone cleared their throat, and both of them, still in each other's arms, looked towards Legolas who had come in his riding tunic, head tilted questioningly.
"What?" inquired Thranduil.
"What are you doing?"
Leane chuckled as the king finally let go of her, letting her return to his son's embrace. "Why, is it wrong that I hug my daughter in law?"
"From the way you have summoned me, I thought I was going to find you swinging your sword at an enemy... Not hugging my wife," Legolas retorted in amusement as he relished the feeling of Leane's arms wrapped around him again.
"He did that too earlier. The sword swinging," chirped Leane. Legolas gazed at his wife's beautiful face and hugged her side tighter.
"It was a false alarm. I sensed foreign magic in the air, but turns out it was her," explained Thranduil, gently cupping one of his late wife's flowers nearby. He looked at it with slight worry as the disease from the forest that infected the flowers seemed to spread, but nonetheless forgot it soon before turning to his human daughter, "What were you doing here anyway?"
Leane released her hold on the Crown Prince of Mirkwood to come to Thranduil's side, turning her attention towards the bush of flowers that the king inspected earlier.
"This was the queen's favorite flowers, correct? Look," she crouched and pointed towards the roots of the plant she worked on earlier before Thranduil came bursting in the garden. "It's infected by the disease, like the ones in the woods. I was trying to fix it."
By this time Legolas and Indossa had came closer, both curiously leaned in to look. With utmost care, the princess took the dead, broken branch that had been shed to the ground due to the infection. She held the branch close to the dying plant. Legolas watched as her eyes turned into that eerie bluish tint, and at the same time the branch began to mend itself, connecting its very fiber to the main plant. Life suddenly sprouted out of what used to be the dead stem of the branch, and on its end grew a bud of a flower with a rich color of fuchsia–one that Thranduil hadn't seen growing since the passing of his beloved wife.
"This is what I was doing. The rest of the flower bush should be this color, but the disease has altered it somehow. I'm amazed that the plant held out this long. It seems to have been infected for a long time now."
While Legolas was busy giving his wife that look of reference, and Leane was blushing right down to her toes, Thranduil and Indossa stood up, their eyes exchanging a collective understanding.
"My king," said Indossa, eyes bright and wide as if someone had poured cold water upon the wise, old elf. "Her majesty's flowers like any other plants in Mirkwood only survived so long because your majesty's power keeping them alive, but they're never free from the disease," he turned his kind, grey eyes towards Leane, "You, my princess," Indossa took her hand in his and squeezed it, eyes looking at her as if he had seen the Valar himself. "Did what we could never achieve for centuries."
Legolas was quick to catch up, and his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree as he shared a rather hopeful look with his Ada (father) and his old instructor.
"What are you saying, Indossa?"
"Your wife," Thranduil answered for him, a smirk plastered on the graceful plane of his face, "...is destined to heal our lands."
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[Author's Note: BUT CAN SHE HEAL CORONA THO???]