Genre: G, sickfic.
Disclaimers: I don't own anything, barely my knickers.
Chapter 1: Geological Arrangement
Aweary, Thranduil tottered towards his chambers on uncertain legs, maintaining none of the gracefulness and poise he normally displayed. But it was late and he had sent everyone away, left the last pair of his guards stationed at the entrance of the cave section designated for him and felt like he had no need, or more importantly energy for pretences no more. Sighing half in relief and half in annoyance at the remaining distance to his bed, he steadied himself on the wall and closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. The day had been depressing to say the least. He woke to a desolate and pressing feeling in his stomach before daybreak and a sense of a shadow over him, foretelling what news came a few hours later, that the Corsairs of Umbar had destroyed the monument commemorating Ar-Pharazon's victory over Sauron and thus displayed their allegiance in no less than crystal clear terms. He spent the rest of the day writing letters to various of their own allies, making sure they knew of the growth of power of Mordor. Crippled by the weight of his thoughts, he almost didn't notice the intruder to his sanctuary, a servant in plain linen clothes with barely any leather or embellishment scrubbing at his floorboards furiously. The chastisement died in his throat however as he regarded the handmaiden. There weren't many Elves with this kind of bright red hair or that exact curve in their nose. She was thinner, and she averted her gemstone green eyed with more meekness than his once rebellious captain ever would, but it was her alright, "Tauriel?" The leaping of his heart he did not understand.
The redhead only made eye contact for the merest of seconds, but she stopped her work and seemed to be listening obediently, still on her knees in front of him, "yes, My Lord."
"What are you doing here!" Thranduil's eyes widened in scandal, though by now it was more in response to the lowly state he had found her in, rather than the intrusion.
"I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness, but Llamryl said I need to rectify the despicable job I have done with your floor earlier and I was told you were still in the throne room."
"Llamryl?" The king looked rather confused.
"Your Head of Royal Stewardry, My Liege."
"I know what the name of the Head of my Royal Stewardry is, Tauriel, don't you think! What I want to know is why in Eru's name would you be doing what Llamryl tells you to do!"
Tauriel lowered her head further, weary of his reaction to what she was about to say, "I have been released from the dungeons last year, My King and had been able to work my way up to Your Halls."
"The dungeons..." Thanduil shook his head. Much of what happened after the Battle of 2941 was a haze to him due to the immense personal and army losses he felt, but he was quite sure he had left the punishment of Tauriel to the Council as he did not feel he had a clear enough perspective for it. As he had not seen her later, he had largely assumed she had been banished for life. "You were in the dungeons?"
It was Tauriel's turn to be surprised, making her drop her subduedness for a moment and look him in the eyes for longer. Was it not him who dealt her punishment? The way he had always treated her even since he had found her as a child in his woods, almost of if she was his property, it made no sense for him to lose sight of her. "I thought you knew," she whispered flatly, shook, her own self worth spiralling a few levels lower than it already had been.
"No." He looked her up and down and continued to rest his eyes on her, "on your feet, Captain!"
Tauriel could not help a raise of the eyebrows. While she complied, she also contradicted him, further thrown by his unawareness of her situation, "I am no more a soldier, let alone a captain, Hir Vuin, I have been stripped of all my merits."
Thranduil gave a discontented grunt, "enough of this nonsense!" He snapped. "You are a valuable asset to Mirkwood, you will always be and should be treated accordingly. Now drop that ridiculous rag into the bucket and follow me!" He marched into his inner rooms, making the effort to look royal and steady again. "Sit!" He demanded, gesturing towards one of the lounges placed not too far away while he lowered himself onto the four poster canopy bed.
"Sit, did you say?" Tauriel bumbled confused, wanting to make sure she didn't misunderstand somehow. Apart from dining occasions and Council meetings, it wasn't mannerly of subjects to sit in the company of the king. In fact he rarely did himself, apart from occupying his throne.
Thranduil rolled his eyes, "please do not test my patience, elleth, I am too world-weary for that."
Tauriel quickly planted herself to where she thought she was meant to, "I intend no discourtesy, Sire."
The king sighed at that, seemingly unhappy as he narrowed his eyes, "did they really iron out all disrespect from you down in those cells? This isn't you, nith, snap out of it and get yourself together, I need my Tauriel here."
"I don't understand. Am I doing something that is not pleasing?"
"Your love's passing, how is it affecting you?" Thranduil waved her off.
"Thank you for your interest, and your acknowledgement My Lord. I have come to terms with the reality, but it does not hurt much less thinking about it."
"Are you well?" He asked quietly, thoughtfully. The impatience that characterised the conversation he led was gone for the moment.
"Yes, My Liege," Tauriel couldn't help the small smile playing on her lips seeing his concern. But did he really think the experience was affecting her so much she would consider fading or it would physically effect her? Cause there would be no other reason for an elf not to be well, apart from injuries of course. This interest was the greatest recognition she thought she could get from him.
"In that case, you will go to Feren early in the morning and get yourself reinstated on my orders. You are needed on a mission to Cardolan. Dismissed," Thranduil lay back on his pillows as he was, boots and mantle and all, heavy fabric notwithstanding, making Tauriel substantiate that her further presence was unwanted so she repressed to impulse to ask him whether she should call for his butler to help him undress and simply backpedalled out, reeling from the changes her peculiar encounter brought.
tbc
Glossary:
nith – young one