~ Two strong wills clash and the most ruthless wins. Later Wynne and Legolas make a plan. ~
58. Battle of the Titans
Wynne could get used to this. Legolas was softer and warmer than ever when he slept and lying in the cradle of his arms she felt safe and loved.
They had stayed awake long last night, mostly just talking, enjoying each other's company. She made sure he knew how she had come to fall in love with him, that Mother's by then abandoned plan had had nothing to do with it. Surprisingly he said he already knew that, claiming her starry-eyed ogling had given her feelings away. Really!
Before they finally drifted off to sleep he had braided her hair again, and his own too, renewing the sign of courtship. Next time Mother tried to take her braids out Wynne was determined to refuse. She could always say it made him more inclined to impregnate her.
She had to stifle a nervous giggle at that. Today she would have to face her mother and try to persuade her that things had happened tonight that had not.
Legolas' breathing changed and she knew he was awake.
"Soon time to face the dragon," she mumbled.
"Good luck." He yawned. "Want me to come with you?"
"That's not necessary."
"I could protect you if she tries to beat you again."
He was frowning deeply and Wynne's heart warmed at his concern. "She won't, not when she's happy." Another thought struck her. "Why do you react so strongly about it? It's a parent's right to punish their child. Doesn't Thranduil do it too?"
"Never."
"Not even when you were little? But you were probably a well-behaved, angelic elfling."
"I already told you I was a handful. I ran away all the time." He smiled wistfully. "He would give me one of his looks and say something sarcastic, usually. Or not say anything at all, which works surprisingly well with him."
"It's a bit odd though. With his temper I would have guessed him to lash out at times."
"His own father was violent, I think, he has hinted as much when we talked recently. He has tried not to be like him." Then he smiled wryly. "Actually, there was one time when he did... but never again. Afterwards I saw he had been crying too when he did it so I think he decided after that to find other methods."
"If even he cried he must have hit you badly."
"He thrashed me with a belt until I couldn't sit." He chuckled. "I deserved it, though."
"Ouch." Wynne winced. "The belt is the worst."
His eyes narrowed. "I am glad you soon shall be free of your mother and never get beaten again."
Legolas' outrage made her uncomfortable. She had not been spanked that often, and mostly it had been deserved. She could be a handful, too. "What had you done to make your father punish you?" she asked, steering the topic away from herself.
He blushed interestingly and averted his gaze. "Nothing."
"Come on. Tell me."
"No," he said flatly.
"It must have been something horrible. I know I shall enjoy hearing it." She tried to tickle him, but he caught her hand. "You're too strong, it's unfair. Anyway, I told you my secrets."
"Alright then," he muttered reluctantly. "If you must know, another elfling and I peeked on some ladies when they bathed." His face had turned crimson.
She clasped her hand over her mouth to not laugh out loud. "You didn't..."
"I did."
"I thought there were no other elflings when you grew up?"
"He was from Lothlórien, only there on a short visit. Ada made sure he was never invited again."
"Now I try to picture you spying on nude elves." She sniggered.
"Let us not speak of this subject again," he decided, silencing her with a long kiss.
oOo
Dawn broke and it was time to go. They had slept in their underwear and now Wynne pulled her dress back on while Legolas chose a clean tunic and hose. Getting ready for the day together was another pleasant thing to do with the one she loved.
Mother waited for them outside, which Wynne had expected as she had hinted yesterday she would, but her reaction took them entirely by surprise.
"Alas! Child, what have you done!" Her voice was piercing, eyes bulging with feigned shock. "And you, you scoundrel, to take advantage of her thus!" She pointed at Legolas who looked like he had been struck by lightning. "Oh, I am fainting. The humiliation. The disgrace. My daughter's virtue, ruined!" She began to sob loudly and theatrically.
Others appeared from nearby rooms, drowsy faces expressing a wide range of emotions; amusement, annoyance, surprise, and in the case of Thranduil; arctic cold rage.
"To my room." It was directed at Legolas, but as he moved to go Wynne's mother grabbed her arm and followed.
"Why?" Wynne whispered to her, feeling sick. But the only answer she got was a smug smile.
Thranduil shut the door behind them almost delicately, his motions measured and deceptively calm. Then he firmly grasped his son's shoulders.
Legolas flinched, gaze apprehensive before he averted it.
"Look at me." His father's voice was icy and dangerously low.
With apparent effort he obeyed and their eyes locked.
Thranduil's shoulders relaxed. "That's a relief, at least," he muttered, sounding more like himself.
"Well," said Wynne's mother. "What shall be done with this wayward son of yours? You should punish him for his insolence. And then they must be wed, of course."
"I thought I made myself clear on that matter yesterday." He let go of Legolas and turned his sharp eyes to her. "The answer is no. And now get out so I can have a word with my 'wayward' son."
"Oh, but yesterday he had not ruined my daughter."
"He has not today either." His lips turned into a cold smile that didn't reach his eyes. "If he had, it would show."
"It will show when my daughter's belly begins to swell!"
"It is apparent you do not know much about elves," he sneered. "Trust me, your daughter's virtue is intact, as is my son's."
"I shall trust no such thing." Her voice had lost some of the certainty and the look she threw at Wynne was murderous. Then she straightened her back. "I dare say the many witnesses will not trust it either. You, your grace, obviously don't know much about humans. Being alone together for a night is enough that people will talk, and if the prince here refuses to marry the victim of his desire, well – it would not look good for you, I can say as much."
Wynne stared in horror. Mother had outsmarted them again; this obviously had been her plan all along. One night was all it took, she was correct about that. Everyone would consider her tainted, her virginity spent, and they wouldn't care what had actually happened in that room even if there was a way to know.
Thranduil stiffened. He seemed to have come to the same conclusion and the blistering chill was back in his eyes. He took a step toward Wynne's mother, towering over her.
She didn't budge and her smug, victorious smile never left her lips as she boldly met his stare.
They stood in silence, engaged in a combat of wills, neither of them moving or looking away.
"You would force me to align my realm to someone like you?" Thranduil sneered at last. "To such a repulsively vain woman as yourself? Plotting, cruel, disgustingly ambitious. Utterly devoid of any real taste, newly rich with a simple upbringing."
Mother's gaze grew hard and her face paled except for her flaming cheeks. "How dare you insult me?"
She lifted her hand to slap him but he caught it easily.
"Using violence to get your way? Pathetic," he spat.
She tried to pull herself free but he only tightened his grip, nails digging into her white flesh.
"Let. Go. Of. Me." Her voice was deadly.
Surprisingly he obeyed, dropping her arm like it had burned him. He even retreated a step.
Mother rubbed her wrist where a bruise was forming. "Who uses violence now?" she hissed. "Oh, I know your kind." Her voice was teeming with contempt. "You try to be intimidating, using your height and strength to make people afraid of you. But males don't frighten me anymore. There is nothing you can do to me that someone else hasn't already done!"
Thranduil didn't answer and there was a flicker of insecurity in his features.
That weakness was all his opponent needed to continue. "You may think me vain and newly rich. But you know what? I don't care what you or anyone else thinks. So, you were the son of a king, and inherited a throne, a crown, a kingdom. Does that make you better than me? Does that make you entitled to look down your nose at me? Is the blood in your veins any different from mine, to allow you to be proud, when I cannot?"
Legolas took Wynne's hand and she squeezed it, seeking comfort from him. There was no knowing what their parents could do when they were this furious.
What frightened her most was this completely new and unexpected side of her mother. It felt like a stranger had entered the Elvenking's suite. The simpering air she would normally put on among royalty was gone, replaced with something passionate and fiery and entirely honest.
"Nothing of what I have was given to me," Morwen continued. "I worked for it. I endured pain, humiliation, fear... all of it. I earned it." She took another step toward Thranduil and again he backed. "I had nothing and yet here I am, with the power to undo this orc peace you desire and ruin your son's reputation for good measure."
Another tense silence ensued. When Thranduil finally replied, his eyes had an oddly bitter look. "I am sorry I hurt you."
That apparently caught her off guard and again she rubbed her arm, almost absentmindedly. Then her gaze regained its sharpness. "I don't need your apologies. I want an affirmative answer."
He turned his back to look out through the window but he stood less straight, less rigid than before. "You shall have it," he said at last. "But then I expect this peace treaty to be agreed upon and signed today. By all the Rohirrim lords." His back was still turned and his voice emotionless.
"Naturally." She had regained her composure and was beginning to look like her normal self, only more businesslike.
"Then please leave me and my son alone."
Wynne followed her mother out on legs so weak she thought she would fall. Before she left, she met Legolas' gaze. He gave her a shaky smile in return and her hand another squeeze.
If the treaty was signed today they could escape tonight. This had not really changed anything as far as their plan went.
At least she hoped so.
Many still lingered in the corridor outside and the way they fell silent when Wynne and her mother walked past made it obvious what they had talked about. Gossip would spread and soon everyone would know.
To get her way, Mother had sacrificed her own daughter's reputation.
She brought Wynne straight to her room and as soon as they were alone, her furious expression returned.
She flinched. Mother had just won against Thranduil, why was she still angry?
"Again you defy me!" She shook Wynne violently. "Are you stupid or what? It's not that hard. Clothes off and spread your legs. Or was the elf unable to find his way?"
"Stop." She tore herself free. "You got what you wanted. We will marry and we shall do that then."
Mother raised her hand again but Wynne evaded her slap. "If you hit me I will tell Thranduil."
"You..." Her scowl deepened and she seemed ready to kill someone.
Wynne decided a hasty retreat was a good option. When the door closed, she heard the unmistakable sounds of shattering furniture.
oOo
With everybody busy preparing to attend the final day of council, Wynne found herself alone. She had not seen Sidra today, so there would thankfully be no babysitting. Instead, she went to the stables.
The stablehands had already exercised the horses but she stayed a while anyway, stroking and cuddling Vatna, allowing the mare's calming presence to undo the knot of apprehension she had felt since the fight.
Everything will work out when we run away. She kept repeating the sentence as a mantra, fervently hoping it to be true.
She was just returning to the citadel when she spotted a familiar shape. Cheery, the female dwarf, sat under the White Tree and smoked a long, curved pipe.
"Hallo, my lady." The dwarf grinned at her in a very cheeky way.
Ugh. Gossip had begun to spread...
"Good morning, Miss Cheery." She sat next to her, glad to have something to do and someone to talk to.
"So, ye had a good time, then, with yer bonny lad?" The dwarf probably knew everything about spending the night with a male.
"Yes. But we didn't do anything. Not that anyone will believe that..."
"Nae? Why?"
"We wanted his father's blessing first... well, at least we hoped for it, but now... it's rather a disaster. Thranduil is livid." She sighed.
"Ach, that's lads for yer. Nasty buggers, the lot of 'em." She held out her pipe. "Want some?"
"No thank you."
Neither of them said anything for a while. Wynne watched the smoke ascend in lazy swirls, listened to the rustle of the silvery leaves above and tried to savor this moment of peace. Soon enough she would be both busy and agitated. Packing, sneaking out of the guesthouse, convincing the night guards to let them out of the city... So much could go wrong.
The dwarf suddenly chuckled silently. "It's a shame, really... Since e'eryone kens ye did it anyway, ye might as well have bedded the laddie and got the pleasure of it too."
"I'm sure it's worth waiting for."
"Aye. That it is." The dwarf's eyes were unreadable as she returned her gaze to the view of the city below, but a small smile hinted under the soft curls of her beard as if she had remembered something funny.
A/N:
A note about beating children... I'm personally firmly against it but Wynne doesn't know anything else. In her world a child – and even a wife – can be legally punished by their guardian. They have no say in anything, though some, like her mother, manage to take control over their husband and use him to get their way.
As usual, your kind support, reads, votes and comments warm my heart. Thank you!