**I know, I know…I have not been nice at all lately with the updates…I've been busy and had other stores I've been writing on other accounts and so I wrongly neglected this one. This story will always be my baby though, the first and most successful FanFiction I've written! Thanks to everyone who stuck it out and continues to stick it out with me. You guys are the reason I keep this up and will hopefully never abandon it for good!**

Chapter Twenty One-Jealously

Lord Elrond soon retired, feeling worn slightly from his journey. He bade me good evening and promised that he and I would again enjoy each other company and talks of our field of work.

When I left Elrond, I immediately searched for Thranduil. There was a heat in my blood, slight anger at him for leaving us alone, but I pushed it down. I knew Thranduil better than I had ever then, and I felt that his reasons could be just. He was not one for conversations with those who he was not close to, thus nearly anyone, and guests were not his favorite; he had made that more than clear. If the conversation did not suit him, of course he, being who he was, would leave it, no matter the social implications surrounding that choice.

Finding him was not difficult. The king sat in his study, a large map open on the large wood and marble desk before him. In the chair behind it, he lounged, his feet out to the side, he head rested against the back of the chair, sitting more horizontal than anything. It was a sight that made me want to roll my eyes and smile all at once.

"Done talking with Elrond already?" he asked his eyes fluttering around me, but never quite looking right at my face.

"Yes, he wanted to rest."

A small 'hmph' sound came from between Thranduil's closed lips. He toyed with a frayed edge of the map between his fingers. "I am surprised he would not rather spend the entire night talking with you."

I could sense the hostility beginning in his voice. "He and I have many similarities which we can discuss," I said simply.

"Clearly." Thranduil stood, still refusing to look at me, and floated around the desk, brushing past me to leave the room.

"You're angry," I observed.

He turned around slowly. "I am not angry." His words were so plain, so very bare, almost glossed over. "I just feel that if you and Elrond enjoy each other's company so much, that perhaps you should be with him." Again he turned, sweeping his robes around his ankles.

"Be with him in what sense?" I rushed after him, arriving at Thranduil's side, my anger mounting. "I spoke with him for a few hours, that was all. What does that harm? Do you think I would ever consider being with someone else? What do you take me for, Thranduil?"

He turned to me and bent so that his face was inches from mine. "All I am saying is that perhaps you and Elrond get along much better than you and I."

My hands were bawled into fists at my sides. I watched as his face shadowed slightly, the left side almost flickering like candle light.

"You say that because he and I have had one conversation?" I snapped back, refusing to back down no matter how the changes in his face were causing a pressure behind my ribs. "You are really going to allow him to cause you this much distress?"

He seethed but pulled his face from mine and started down the hall again.

"You're impossible!" I called. "Just because I enjoy talking to someone else does not mean I have any less affection for you. Your pride is too large for you to carry, as is your jealousy." I wanted to say more, but words escaped me then. I didn't know what to say. I was boiling angry, but what more would this battle do? There was nothing for it. Thranduil would only get more and more angry until he turned cruel and I would not back down.

So I did what only seemed sensible. I turn away and started down the opposite hall, away from him, at least for now.

"Go then!" Thranduil's voice came from behind me. "Leave and enjoy your time with Elrond. It is clear that you and he fair better than you and I."

My shoulders hunched, but I refused to give into his taunting and rage. I rushed off, away from him, as quickly as I could.

I made the decision that night to stay in my old bedroom. I missed that room and any thought of Thranduil that my new rooms would surely give, was quite pestering to me at that point in time. Even though keeping him from my mind was closer to impossible than anything ever could be.

After undressing and putting on my nightgown, I slipped between the soft blankets and lay there, between sheets that were not as soft and silky as those in the king's chambers, but more familiar to me and thus more comforting.

My heart felt heavy when I thought of Thranduil. There had to be some way for he and I to get along better or else things would be quite difficult, quite exhausting. I knew that I loved him, very much so, but living with him and the actual act of loving him was something that I was sure was closer to impossible than anything I had seen before.

I must have fallen asleep then because next thing I knew, I was being woken up gently. There was a soft voice in my ear calling my name.

Opening my eyes, I looked up and I was quite surprised, but pleased, deeply, to see Thranduil's face above me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, rubbing my eyes and sitting up in bed as he backed off.

The king wore no crown and he face was sullen. "I've come to apologize," he admitted, "I could not sleep, not the way things had been."

"It's alright, I-"

"No, it's not." He paced down the length of the room and then back towards me. "Audriel, I was a fool." In an almost surrendering-like gesture, he held his hands out before him. "My words were horrid. I could not allow myself to give you another moment believing that I feel what I said was just."

I ran my hands through my hair, looking down at the strands between my fingers. "I cannot deny that your words pained me, Thranduil. That you would think me disloyal. I pledged my love, myself, to you."

"I know." He bent down at the side of my bed then, looking up at me with dour eyes. "Can you forgive my anger? Forgive me for speaking out of turn? I was…"

Meeting his eyes, I said, "Jealous?"

His eyes flashed darkly, but then softened. "I cannot speak to you the way Elrond can. I am not of that stature."

"What do you mean by that?" I blinked at him.

"Elrond is…a great warrior, a fair character, smarter than most, if not nearly all. I am not who he is."

I understood what he was trying to say without him having to so bluntly say it. Thranduil was jealous. He was envious of Elrond, or at least certain traits the dark haired king possessed. One of which was the ability to carry on a conversation with a topic I was passionate about.

"If I wanted anyone other than who you are, would I not be betrothed to them?" I asked.

Thranduil said nothing. His eyes were looking to the ground.

I reached out and ran my fingers along the side of his face. "Thranduil," I said softly, "there is a reason I have given you my hand in marriage, my heart. I love you more than anything. Never doubt that." He took my hand, covering it with his own. "My only wish is that we can find some way of being in which we do not irk each other so."

At that, he smiled, bringing his eyes up to mine. "If I did not care for you as I do, I would not mind at all if you ran away with Elrond."

I laughed at that. "He is not nearly as handsome as you, my beautiful king."

Thranduil stood and leaned over me, his hands on either side of me on the bed. He kissed me then, softly and sweetly, any anger or resentment gone from his body, as I could feel none. I wrapped my arms around his neck, realizing then that he was very nearly in my bed, and how incredibly disreputable it was for two unmarried elves, let alone a king and his soon-to-be queen, to be sharing a bed. I uttered his name, but it was lost on deaf ears as he kissed me harder, and then down my neck. My fingers clutched the back of his robes tightly.

Slowly, Thranduil climbed above me on all fours on my small bed. He continued to kiss me, my neck and my lips again, as he lowered himself, pushing my back down where I was lying flat, his weight just to my right side so as not to be completely on top of me, still hovering there through, his lips making my head feel feather light. Pulling away from my lips, his eyes were glassy. "I cannot bear to wait until you are truly my queen," he breathed.

I looked up him, running my fingers along the sides of his face. "It is only a year, a mere blink," I said, my voice unnaturally tight.

His reply was to kiss me again.