14. Romantic or Reckless?

"I have lost the Immortal Part of Myself, and what remains is Bestial..." (Shakespeare's Othello)

I vehemently protest to having the healers look at my face. I'm fine, it was only a slap and I'll live. Instead I dart through the King's halls and find Legolas, who is peacefully sleeping in his chambers. I clamber atop his bed and stroke his blond curls, shaking my head and shedding a few disappointed tears. I should have been quicker, I should never have allowed him anywhere near that insane elf. In these moments I vow to not be so stupid again - to go with my gut instincts and fight for him. No one will ever touch him and if they do it will not be his father they have to be concerned with, I'll kill them myself! In fact I am contemplating finding Ithril and doing just that, but reason kicks in and reassures me his Grandfather has a handle on the situation.

"I'm so sorry kiddo," I mutter and kiss his forehead, "I promise I can do better than this."

With a disappointed sigh I sit up and sense the presence of another in his doorway. I know who it is, and I turn to face the utterly devastated look of his father.

I manage a small smile for Thranduil in the hopes of letting him know I am proud of him, but it doesn't seem to be working. I slide off the bed and cross the room to him, and once I am within reaching distance he takes hold of my arm and pulls me into his own chambers across the hallway.

If I had of been paying any attention I would have noticed then that we were not the only ones in the dimly lit corridor, and I would have acted differently, but hindsight is a wonderful thing.

Once inside I stand quite forlornly in the middle of his slightly disorganised living space, and wait while he locks the door. He turns to face me with an expression I can only describe as shame and regret, and crosses the space between us in a few short strides; he then cups my swollen face in his hands to examine it. This only seems to make his mood worse, and he attempts to verbalise an unnecessary apology;

"It was just a slap," I laugh softly and grip his hand with mine, taking a settling breathe I decide to off load my guilt; "I am so sorry, I didn't mean to put Legolas in danger. I didn't mean to put you in that situation!"

"Do not even..." he hisses and shuts his eyes tightly as if trying to dislodge a thought; "Stop apologizing you did nothing!" He snaps and then opens his eyes and they're unfocused, hopeless even; "I could have hurt her and I wanted to hurt her...this anger...it is overwhelming, I do not understand it!"

"You wouldn't have hurt her," I try to quietly reason with him. His eyes are wild again with the same fearful confusion I have seen a handful of times before.

"Yes I would!" he hisses and grips my shoulder quite uncomfortably; "When she struck you, when she abused you, when she hurt my boy; I could not control the anger; I did not want to control it! Clara I enjoyed it and that frightens me, what if I did not stop? What would I have become?"

"But you did," I reply firmly and place my hands soothingly on his chest, "You stopped yourself."

"No, you stopped me," He cries and leans heavily into me, his forehead resting against mine; "If I did not have you I would lose myself...my mind...it is sick!"

"Hey stop this," I murmur and clasp my hands to his face, attempting to get his attention. There are real tears forming in his right eye and this is something new to me, he is never this vulnerable; "You are not going anywhere, there is nothing wrong with you!"

"No I am a beast I do not even recognize myself," he fights my comfort; he doesn't want to believe me. His eyes are wide with panic and my heart breaks for him, I don't know what else to do but kiss him. Not softly or in any way calming, but forceful, enough to shock him or distract him. I won't let him believe that absurd lie, he is not broken he is just healing; there is nothing bestial about him.

The kiss is met with a brief stunned silence before he captures my mouth with his and with such force it steals my breath away. Hands get tangled in hair and limbs get entwined within seconds, as we both steadily lose any sense of control. Thranduil's confusion and my frustration, coupled with endless months of being careful and suppressing our desires, has naturally led to this, all we needed was the adrenaline to ignite us.

We stagger backwards and I feel my back hit the wall with a loud thud, somewhere in the delirium I register the sound of something falling off a shelf and smashing on the ground. I ignore it though; my hands are too busy ripping off his silver robes and deftly removing his tunic. My lips find his chest, his skin hot and salty to taste, his seductive gravelly sighs and groans are only sending me further into a frenzy. Though it's not long before he takes some of the control back, the skirts of my dress are hoisted somewhere around my waist as he lifts me off the ground and pushes me onto a table, or a ledge, a piece of low shelving? I don't know and I really don't care! I wrap my legs around his waist and draw him closer to me only realising at this point it is a table, as I hear the tell-tale sounds of books and scrolls clattering to the ground, our violent thrashing destroying everything in our path. I'm not sure if the room will still be standing after this?

Hands, hands are everywhere, there is not one part of my body he hasn't caressed or explored with rough and forceful motions, but my over complicated and ridiculous dress is in the way and I'm all too eager to help him get me out of it. In our extremely heated and intense exchange the overlay of the dress gets ripped in the process of removal, this only succeeds in trebling my desire.

I'm slowly sinking into oblivion, getting lost in his body, his scent and his taste, marvelling at his strength and delighting in the reactions I gain from him when I touch him. Thranduil lets one hand trace up my spine and cradle around my neck grasping fistfuls of my hair to gently pull my head back, giving him better access to my neck and chest, as he plants desperate kisses there, occasionally grazing the vulnerable skin with his teeth. The silken underdress that I am wearing, is slipping so dangerously low, my heart is beating so loudly that it is deafening in my ears and I can barely breathe as his other hand creeps up my hip and pauses just shy of the scrunched up hems of my dress. His lips return to mine briefly and for the length of heartbeat everything freezes;

"Don't stop," I hear myself plead, my voice barely more than a fluttery whisper.

"I must," he replies with an equally weak voice that suggests I could persuade him otherwise.

"I don't want you too," I push and kiss him quite feverishly again. I smile triumphantly when for a split second I seem to have won. For with a moan that sends shivers up my spine, Thranduil tightly grips the gathered fabric of my dress and for a moment I believe he is going to rip it off me. But his hand steadies and he breaks the kiss to eye me with a regretful look;

"No, not like this," he gasps breathlessly and takes my face in his hands, frowning slightly at my ever so disgruntled look.

"Like what?" I sigh and let my fingers trail down his bare chest longingly. How is he able to stop himself? Does he realise I am about several seconds away from combusting? He is going to kill me!

"Not in the shadows, not like some forbidden tryst," he answers my questions with a forceful and resolute look. Part of me is thrilled to bits that he is attempting to protect my honour. it is so refreshing and ultimately makes me feel that much more desirable. But in the moment I really could not care for my honour, I want to be very dishonourable and he is ruining it, and now I feel like the villain taking advantage of this poor vulnerable ellon's fragile emotions!

"You are angry?" Thranduil observes and stress creeps into his features again.

"No I'm not angry," I grumble, which I recognise as a contradictory tone, so I sigh and attempt to sound less disappointed; "I understand that you don't want to."

"Oh I want too," he gives me a serious look and I tilt my head to the side in confusion, so he gathers I want an explanation; "When this happens I don't want it to be distorted by bleak memories, or dark thoughts. When I bind with you, I do not want it to be in this weak frame of mind, you deserve so much more."

"I don't mind, you really don't have to be so considerate!" I interject quickly and throw my arms around his neck drawing him close for a deep kiss. I'm only playing around, I understand what he is saying and truthfully it makes me fall even deeper in love with him.

"Clara!" He manages to mutter my name out as a half-hearted warning against my lips. I stop and stifle a snigger at his exasperated look as our foreheads touch and he shakes his head at me; "You are going to break me!"

"Ditto!" I reply and he chuckles, and rests his head in the curves of my neck.

I set my check against his head and for a few quiet moments we just hold each other, and attempt to cool down. Thranduil's breath is still ragged and my heart is still flying, and I doubt I will be able to stop blushing furiously for the next forty-eight hours! The minutes tick slowly by and eventually Thranduil sighs and absently plays with a lock of my messed up hair.

"How is the anger?" I murmur when I can eventually trust my voice.

"No longer an immediate concern," he confirms with a lazy tone that makes me smirk.

"See, all you need is an outlet, a distraction, I am sure we can think of different ways to manage it when it rears its ugly head." I start to chatter, my mind suddenly making lists of good stress relieving activities for him, but his arms tighten around my waist and he takes me off guard with a kiss on my neck, silencing me instantly;

"Oh no no, this is a good outlet, I like this one," he states with a gravelly voice filled with longing; "I can see this working, tis very helpful to my recovery."

"Yea nice try, but if I have to behave myself so do you!" I snigger and bury my face in his hair, locking my arms around him tighter as the two of laugh in unison.

One more lingering kiss later and Thranduil helps me off the table and we redress. With regret I realise that I am going to have to have my dress mended, it obviously was not designed to withstand such passionate aggression. So in the meantime Thranduil wraps me up in one of his burgundy robes, which I intend on stealing and keeping for myself; mostly because it is large and comfortable and secondly because it smells of him. I am such a love sick puppy.

With his arm wrapped around my waist we exit his chambers, and he does not show any signs of letting me go or dulling down his affections. We kiss and murmur endearments to one another and I am completely wrapped up in him. The horrible events earlier in the night seem like a distant memory now and it seems nothing can touch us in our state of bliss. For a moment everything is good and as it should be.

We are in no hurry to separate and instead of returning to my chambers Thranduil takes me on a stroll through the caves. Dawn is coming and since we've been awake this long it seems pointless attempting to find any rest. Besides sleep will not come for me tonight, my mind is too boggled by the events that have passed both good and bad. So I think in our own bizarre way we are making our own distractions, visiting our favourite places and discussing all the things I should like to see. One of these destinations is the famed throne room, not very adventurous I admit but I have never set foot in it because there has been no need too, though I am curious as to what it looks like. So after much persuading Thranduil agrees to take me there, baffled as to why I am so interested in something so dull.

The throne room is exactly what I was expecting and probably even more so. The great carven throne dominates the larger of the split level pavilion. Two silent and still figures flank the marble steps that lead to the elevated pavilion before the dais of the throne itself; guards dressed in the finest of armour brandishing ceremonial swords and shields, still the steel of the blades sheen and I imagine there purpose is not just for show. They do not even blink or acknowledge our presence, their eyes fixed and ever watchful, it is not until we climb the steps do they stand to attention for Thranduil but it is only for a moment and they return instantly to their guarded position.

The room is decorated with the dark green banners of the Kingdom, mosaic and gold flecked tiles make swirling and dreamy patterns below my feet. Two great ornamental hearth torches burn with glittering flames from golden bowls before the foot of the throne, or thrones I should say. On closer inspection I see that there are two distinct seats beside the grand throne; a place for a Queen and a Prince, and again I am reminded of who Thranduil really is.

I skip up the dais' steps and observe the thrones, running my hands along the wood acutely aware how Thranduil watches me intently;

"So," I begin causally," His majesty sits here?" and I point to the grand and rather intimidating throne that exudes power and wealth, Thranduil nods and I carry on my examination; "And your Mother? She would have sat where?"

"At my Father's left side," he replies and joins me at the top of the stairs, with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Ah I see, and why is that?" I ask curiously and eye the slender and more feminine throne at the left, decorated with carven roses and ivy, so perfect in craftsmanship that you would almost think they were real and not made of wood.

"The queen consort always sits by her husband's left side, as a spectator - always listening and observing, she is the image of quiet strength and dignity," he answers me like he is rhyming off a well-practised speech.

"Oh I would have thought she would sit on the right?" I wonder out loud and Thranduil chuckles indulgently at my ignorance.

"No to sit at the right hand side of a King is a place of honour," he sighs and strides to the place by the right of the throne, eyeing it with a great deal of reverence. "To sit by his right side is to have his favour."

"So who sits by your Father's right side?" I ask timidly but I already know the answer, it just fills me with a certain amount of awe to consider the truth.

Thranduil turns his gaze on me and gives me lopsided grin, before dramatically swivelling on the heel of his boot and elegantly taking a seat on the finer throne. It is almost identical to the King's, only slightly less elaborate but no less grand;

"I do," he confirms with a nod and suddenly before my very eyes he changes slightly, his posture is straighter, his expression cool and his presence more commanding.

"Oh I get it," I squeak slightly in awe; "The second in command sits on the right. I feel I should bow or curtsy or something?"

"You should," Thranduil mocks and inclines back, and raises an eyebrow at me. "Technically while I am seated here I am holding court, all subjects are expected to bow when they bring their pleas or requests before me."

I raise an eyebrow right back at his confidence that slightly verges on egotistical, but nevertheless I complete my best and most humble of curtsies. I hear his sharp intake of breath and am suddenly being yanked upright by his strong grip of my arm;

"Stop that!" he gasps and hauls me onto his lap, shaking his head vigorously; "You never ever bow to me!"

"Oh preferential treatment, that is very bad practice for a Prince," I giggle as he snakes his arms around my waist and keeps me pinned to the throne with him.

"Then I am a terrible excuse for a Prince," Thranduil chuckles and pulls my face to his for a slow and smouldering kiss, that cuts off my senses so the only thing I am aware of is him. I know there are two armed guards several feet in front of us with their backs turned on us, and I probably should stop this display of affection before it causes a problem but in my stupidity I don't. And it is in my stupidity and carelessness that the unexpected happens.

"Yes it would appear he is!"

The voice turns my blood cold, I instantly break away from the kiss and freeze like a petrified animal. Thranduil's head snaps up so fast that the movement is barely discernable, his eyes are huge and his expression so shocked I consider that he may have lost the ability to speak. I don't dare look because I know who it is, it is Oropher, the voice is unmistakable and he sounds furious.

"Adar?" Thranduil actually manages to splutter and fluidly brings us both into standing; oh fantastic - I am going to have to face the King. I nervously peek at Oropher who is standing before his own throne glaring daggers at his son, but he is yet to acknowledge me and I am not sure if this is a good thing or not.

"Do not 'adar,' me!" He snaps anger contorting his usually ethereal features; "Get off that throne before I remove your privilege to sit on it!"

"Adar I can explain?" Thranduil attempts to speak and laces his fingers with mine to lead me down the steps to stand before his infuriated father.

"Explain what exactly?" Oropher growls, his voice low and menacing; "How you abuse your title? How you shame yourself and your King by consorting with barely of age ellith in a disgraceful manner? Lurking around in hallways at night is barely tolerable but blatantly engaging in such degrading behaviour here, in the hall of your Father, without even a hint of shame or regret! I am at a loss Thranduil, I really am!"

"It is my fault," I blurt out before Thranduil has a chance to reply. I shrink from Oropher's enraged glare but bow and continue nevertheless, "I asked him to bring me here, I realise now that what you beheld was extremely disrespectful and I am truly sorry, but-"

"I am sorry too," Oropher quips cutting me off before I can say anymore; "I am sorry that my son has charmed you into acting so unbecoming of a lady of my court, that he would use you so carelessly for his own pleasures!"

"I am not using her!" Thranduil snaps suddenly equally as furious as his father, Oropher frowns at his son's suddenly vicious tone and is about to contradict him, but Thranduil cuts him off; "I love her!"

Both Oropher and I are stunned to silence, I gape at Thranduil and he looks at me with an apologetic expression. Obviously he is sorry I should find out this way that this is how he feels, and yes I guess the hope of a grand romantic gesture is long gone, but he loves me - he confessed it and I would sing if it were not for the terrible circumstances in which we now find ourselves.

"What are you saying?" The King speaks first his voice void of emotion, cold and calculating. I don't like it.

"Adar I apologize for the scene you beheld, I admit it was careless but it was not intentional," Thranduil's tone is calm and reasonable as he explains himself; "But this is not nothing, I am in love with Clara and I had intended on presenting her to you in the coming days, I regret that you had to find out like this but at least you know now."

"And you just expect me to accept this?" Oropher replies evenly, eyeing me with an appraising look that makes me shrink into myself. "You expect me to allow some unknown elleth into my family? Into my Grandson's life?"

"Legolas is not your concern!" Thranduil growls and I gather this is a sore point of discussion as there is an edge of exasperation to his words. "Who I decide to bring into my son's life is my own decision not yours! And yes Ada I do expect you to accept it!"

"Of course it is my concern!" Oropher shouts back his temper flaring; "How on earth do you expect me to explain to our people, or to the other noble houses, who she is? We know nothing about her, who she is or where she hails from? You are a Prince Thranduil you do not have the luxury of falling in love with whomever you please!"

"I really do not care what you tell the other nobles," Thranduil sniffs haughtily; "And furthermore Adar I did marry for the purposes of furthering the Kingdom and out of duty to you. Shall I remind you how that ended? So I do believe your point is invalid, I have done everything you asked of me before and I still ended up disgracing you. So why should it matter now, the damage is done, what more can they say about me?"

The slanging match between the pair continues in their own tongue. Oropher launching into a tirade of Sindarin words that spill so fast from his mouth that I haven't a hope of translating them. Thranduil grows ever more despondent and disinterested in his Father's concerns, although he occasionally answers with pleas and soft sounding words. Every so often he looks to me with an apologetic grimace, and I grow ever more uncomfortable with the situation. Eventually Oropher loses patience and cuts off Thranduil with a wave of his hand, and to my horror he turns to me and I automatically bow deeply in response to his indifferent gaze;

"Raffyn!" He calls out to his chief advisor who I did not realize was skulking in the shadows of the great hall, the wiry elf is at his side in less than a second and bows deeply to all of us; "Please assist Lady Clara back to her quarters, she is to remain on house arrest until I have sorted this indiscretion. She is not to engage in her duties and she may not have any contact with my Grandson until I say otherwise."

"Oh for the love of all that is holy she is not a criminal!" Thranduil snarls in frustration; "You cannot keep Legolas from her that is a sin before the Valar! It is cruelty, he is only a child! You cannot remove her from his life!"

"You will not speak any more on the subject!" Oropher replies icily and Thranduil is about to start roaring again when I throw up my hands in a show of surrender;

"It is fine!" I say quickly and bow again for the King; "Your Majesty I am so sorry to have caused you any heartache that was not my intent. But before I go you must know this; I love your son very much, but I am also dedicated to your grandson. I would not do anything to jeopardize the relationship I have with him, nor would I put him in any danger. I understand and echo your concerns they are just, and you have every right to be suspicious but may I implore you to give me a chance to prove this to you?"

I cross all fingers and toes and keep my eyes downcast, hoping I have done enough to at least make Oropher consider my plea for a moment. I understand his anger and his distrust, why on earth would he want some silly little girl snooping around his vulnerable son? For all he knows I could be taking advantage of Thranduil's weakened state to hoist my way up the social ladder...like a certain other she elf that shall not be named! I dearly hope that isn't what he thinks of me, but I do expect he is concerned and worried. He has spent the majority of the past decade shielding his Grandson from his parent's mistakes, and ultimately attempting to put his own son back together - numerous times by the sounds of it. To him I could be the very thing that wrecks his hard fought peace, and puts a wedge between him and his son. I will not be the cause of that, if anything I want to help matters not hinder them, so with that in mind I leave with Raffyn. Oropher does not reply to my plea, only giving me a curt nod and as much as that irritates me I have to recognize that he is a King, and King's are not answerable to nurse maids.

xXx

The day is long, trapped in my home under strict supervision of Raffyn, who is as silent as ever. I clean everything in sight and when I run out of things to clean, I start cleaning them again.

Oliel returns and is infuriated by my treatment, but I tell her to not fuss. I appreciate her unwavering support but I am at peace with the King's requests. However I miss Legolas, and I yearn to see him after the events of last night. I am sure he is confused as to why I am not with him, and I worry he thinks I have abandoned him when he needs me most. Oliel is put in charge of his care and she tries to assure me she will deal with his questions as sensitively as she can. I trust her to do so but I still feel incredible guilty...this was such rotten timing!

By late morning I am pacing the floor like a caged lioness, I detest being held against my will, it reminds me of my years of isolated childhood. I do not do well under the command of others, I have fought for my freedom and as much as I respect Oropher he cannot expect me to live like this. I rationalise that he does not intend to keep me prisoner, and keeping me within his home is only his way of controlling the fallout. He can't have me running off wailing my injustices to the world at being denied to love a prince, I wouldn't do that but he doesn't know that.

Keeping Legolas from me is my only gripe, I need to see him and I am not coping well with the separation. I am worried sick about him, not convinced that he has been checked thoroughly for injury after Ithril's attack, and yes attack is a dramatic notion but in my eyes that is what it was - a malicious attack on a helpless child.

My stress levels are hitting record levels and I cannot touch the lunch Raffyn tries to feed me. My incessant pacing and manic cleaning has disturbed him greatly, and in his way he is trying to calm me. He tries to offer me light conversation but I don't bite and he returns to his pensive silence watching me warily. By afternoon I am cracking up, so I do the only thing I do when I cannot escape my problems, I paint.

I rearrange the living room, shoving the tables and settles about to give me a good space to work on the floor. There is a very large piece of slate that is in the garden, I have Raffyn help me haul it into position on the floor of the lounge, and then I go fetch my oil based paints and change my clothes.

Dressed in the tunic I stole from Thranduil a few weeks ago, I pin my hair back in a messy clump atop my head and just pour out my anger and bitter disappointment on said slate. I don't use brushes, just my hands; I like to feel the connection with the slate and myself. In my bizarre artists mind it helps me expel a lot of my pent up energy, to use myself as the tool to paint.

The afternoon is drawing to a close when Raffyn announces to me that I need to cease my painting, as the King has come to speak with me. I nod to him and rub my head with the back of my hand, my hair is falling out of place and my face is flushed from erratic painting. I am a sight to behold I am sure, every inch of me is plastered in dark coloured paint, but there is nothing I can do about it now. So I stand to my feet when Oropher enters and bow, choosing to ignore the alarmed look he gives me in my haphazard state.

We don't speak for the longest time and he just stands there and absorbs his surroundings. I kneel back down before my creation, and start putting away my paints and attempting to scrub some of the colour off my hands and wrists in the basin of now cool water. I am aware after a few moments that he stands over me, and timidly I peek up at him to register he is observing my painting;

"You paint beautifully," he comments evenly and tilts his head to the side in consideration; "But your night sky lacks more stars, it is very bleak looking."

"It was a dark night," I reply numbly.

"Twas," he answers me with a knowing look and takes a seat on one of the disarray sofas. "You realise I am not here to admire your talent Lady Clara."

"I realise that," I mutter and feel my shoulders sag at the impending judgment. It cannot be good, if it was good Thranduil would be here and he is not. I feel my throat constrict with the thought of not seeing him and I daren't let my mind wonder over Legolas. With a sigh the King motions for Raffyn to leave and then settles me with serious look;

"I am tired Clara," he says with a weary voice that takes me off guard, "I am so very tired. The forest is losing its appeal to me, and the days feel too long and the nights...the nights are cold and oppressive. I am fading - you understand this term?"

I shake my head in response and bite my lip. I was not expecting this sort of lecture;

"My heart is no longer here, it is in the west and I am so ready to follow it there," he replies and I suddenly understand. He wants to follow his wife; he has had enough of the separation and time is slowly grinding him down. He pauses for a moment in memory, and then continues; "But It seems that this is not the will of the Valar. I am needed here still and although my desire to leave is great, my desire to do right by my family and my people is greater."

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask in a timid voice thick with tears, in some strange way I don't want him to leave, what would Greenwood be without him? How would we go on, he is our King?

"Because you need to understand child," Oropher turns his fixed gaze on me and it is weighted with such ancient responsibility; "I had intended to pass the crown to Thranduil, that is what I was preparing him for, and though I never told him of my intentions I know deep down he was well aware of them. That is why he agreed upon a forced marriage between kingdoms, and though he suffered for it he does not regret Legolas. Anyway there is no use on dwelling on mistakes, things were set in motion and he was ready."

"But then he fell in battle to the dragon," I blurt out in a sob, understanding suddenly what a long way down Thranduil actually did fall. The elf I know now is not in a place to rule a Kingdom; he can barely rule his own emotions. Oh this is awful, their world was ripped apart! All the well laid plans and all the hope for the future gone is a split second, quite literally being burned up in front of them!

"Now you see?" Oropher replies his usually melodic voice rough with his own unshed tears; "I cannot leave now, nor would I even want too. The world outside this Kingdom is in a perilous position and my own family hangs on by a thread, no I am afraid this is where I am intended to be. However I am sure you are wondering why this has anything to do with you and my son."

"I think I can guess," I say with a wary voice, and drop my gaze.

"I do not trust you, but only because I do not know you," he says quite directly and I lift my eyes to meet his gaze; "Though Thranduil tells me you are special, I think he used the term gift - fanciful fool that he is. I will not deny that you obviously reach him in a way I cannot, and the adoration you have for my Grandson is apparent for all to see. That being said you are the farthest thing from what I deem a suitable match for a Prince, in this sense you do not impress me! However Thranduil is beyond reason and I see it is folly to try and separate him from you, it will not be good for him."

My mouth hits the ground and my heart starts to hammer again, is it appropriate to hug a King? Yes I know he obviously is horrified by the idea but he is not going to stop it! He stands to his feet in one fluid motion and glares down at me with challenging eyes;

"You will not have claim to the throne Clara, you are not a Princess! Unless you can impress me otherwise, you will not have that right! But I will not stand in the way of any happiness my son finds, only the Valar know how much he deserves it. So Clara if you are serious, if you do love my family in the way you so reverently vowed, then impress me!"

And with that he sweeps out of the room, only to pause at the door and sigh loudly in exasperation at whoever is there, and with a breezy voice states, "You can come in now!" and in a flurry of movement a blonde blur of energy streaks through the room and into my arms.

"Legolas!" I cry in relief and throw my arms around him, pulling him tight to me and getting paint all over his clean tunic.

"Clara," he sobs into my chest and grabs fistfuls of my hair in his hands; "You didn't come, you were not there this morning when I woke, and neither was Ada, what did I do? Am I in trouble for hurting Ithril?"

"Oh baby I'm sorry," I gasp back my own sobs and bury my face in his hair breathing in his scent, "You did nothing, you were so brave, and Ithril is in trouble for hurting you!" I pull him back to observe him, clutching his head and running my fingers through his hair looking for a bump or bruising, mercifully there is none! "You are not hurt?"

"No," he grumbles and eyes me with a certain degree of irritation, which I deserve. "Is she coming back?"

"No!" I say resolutely and shake my head vigorously; "Your Ada put her in her place, and he told her he would toss her in the gutter if she ever looked at you again."

"Good!" He laughs brightly and wipes away his tears with his sleeve; "You promise not to disappear again?" he asks worriedly.

"I promise!" I cry and clutch him tightly to my chest again; "I promise I am not going anywhere."

"Never ever?" he mumbles from his squashed up position against my shoulder.

"Nope! Never!" I giggle breathlessly and pepper his face and head in kisses. This makes him squirm and laugh, as he tries to get away from me but I'm just too thrilled to have him safe with me. Oropher watches us for a moment, and I catch a fond look in his eyes but it is quickly replaced with an indifferent expression.

"Legolas?" He gruffly asks gaining his Grandson's attention; "You will see Clara in the morning, come, your dinner will be getting cold."

"But," Legolas starts and gives me a frantic look. "But can I not stay with Clara?"

"No, not tonight, Clara needs her rest," Oropher states with an authoritative look that suggests he will not be argued with. "Come, you will have her all day tomorrow I am sure."

Legolas sighs in defeat and throws his arms around me one last time, before scurrying back to his Grandfather who gestures for Raffyn to take him back to their private quarters. Before Oropher follows suit I jump to my feet and outstretch my hand, begging him to stop for a moment, and he actually pauses;

"Thank you," I whisper hoarsely, "You have no idea how much that meant to me."

"I am not cruel," Oropher answers me with a scowl, but it disappears and a faint smile creeps across his lips; "Legolas is hard to refuse, and he has me twisted around his little finger. You Clara, are untouchable because of my grandson!"

I laugh softly - not in a disrespectful way - and by the peaceful expression on the King's face I know he understands my reaction. I curtsy one last time and Oropher leaves without another word.

Once on my own I drift about the living space, reorganizing it, and eventually I pour another warm bowl of water from the kettle on the hearth to wash myself with. I am exhausted from the events, so emotionally and physically drained that I can barely find the strength to wash off the caked on paint. So I just sit by the fire and lazily slop the water about myself, too numb to really think through all the revelations. I will consider how to impress his majesty later, at this exact moment I am just too relieved that I can keep Legolas in my life, and stay with Thranduil. I am also eternally grateful that I have not lost my home or my employment, though I doubt I can continue calling myself Legolas' nursemaid if Thranduil and I go official. Oh, my head it hurts just trying to come up with answers for myself. I lean back against an armchair and close my eyes, attempting to quiet my mind and find some rest.

This is when Thranduil finally makes an appearance, I hear him enter the lounge before he even knows I am here, and I smile at the comfort his presence brings. I keep my eyes shut, right up until he is hovering above me, his strong hands clamp around my forearms and I lazily peek up at him through half lidded eyes. He seems relaxed and just as relieved as I am, he smirks and pulls me upwards from my seated position.

"What?" I groan as I find my feet, and he wraps an arm around my waist to secure me, "Where do you want me to go now?"

"Walk with me," he commands with a soft voice, and I get lost in the glimmer of his eyes, that are gentle again. No longer wild and unsettled but composed with just the hint of mischief, which always leaves me guessing as to what he is really up to.

So I agree to walk with him, and he leads me through the caves to the opening above the now silent markets. The very first place he ever took me, and so we climb to the mouth of the cave and he lets me wander in front of him as I get just as awestruck as did the first time around.

The first of the evening stars have started to light up the sky as we traverse the ledges, and this time I lead the way with confidence and ease. I do not forget the grassy ledge where I first heard the tones of the forest; it was a defining moment for me, as was the insane jump but I don't think we'll be diving tonight. Thranduil is hardly dressed for such adventures, in his heavy green robes, though he is unpredictable and he just might be that crazy.

I stand on the very edge and breathe deeply, completely at ease and I am quite pleased with my obvious growth in confidence. A few months ago I would not have believed myself capable of these physical feats. Thranduil joins me and we both stare up at night sky, much brighter than the one I painted on the slate. For the longest time we are quiet, but eventually curiosity gets the better of me;

"The trees are restful," I murmur and he smiles and nods in agreement.

"You soon will not need my help," he answers and turns to give me a rueful look; "I will miss that."

I laugh brightly and shake my head in disagreement, turning on my heel I saunter over to a few scattered boulders and sit down. I pluck a sprig of the night blooming jasmine, how I love this shrubbery, it grows in multitudes in Gilron's garden and the scent is divine. I examine the sprig carefully and then with a sigh peek up at Thranduil;

"It is me we are talking about, I will always need you," I chuckle and roll my eyes; "But why are we here?"

"It seemed right to do this here," he answers and causally observes our surroundings; "The place I first felt your fea...admittedly that was forward of me but I could not help it, I think I knew then."

"Knew what?" I murmur unsure of the new look in his eyes; I have never seen that look before. Thranduil comes to kneel before me, first cupping my face in his hands and then sliding them down my neck and shoulders, until he at last holds my now quivering hands.

"That I was in love with you," he answers my question like it is something I should already know; "Clara I know what my father said to you."

"You know that he wants me to impress him," I mutter and sigh at the very thought of the mammoth task I have ahead of me; "its okay though, he has every right to demand I prove myself, and I will! I love you and Legolas enough to fight for this. Just you wait and see, by the time I'm finished your Ada will love me!"

"You do not need to impress another soul, you have done enough, Adar is just being difficult," Thranduil sighs but then chuckles softly and I give him a perplexed look, so he elaborates; "He does not believe I am serious, you see I had a habit of falling in love easily as a youth...he seriously underestimates me."

"He does," I confirm with a chuckle of my own and lift my palm to place it on the left side of his face, the way he likes; "But it is because he worries, you're hurting and he can't make it better, and I think in his own way he is being difficult in his attempt to protect you. After all I am a complete stranger that literally appeared in his Kingdom."

"You are too understanding Clara," he laughs softly and holds my hand against his cheek, "But if he wants proof that I am serious than he shall have it."

"What do you mean?" I question him, as he presses his forehead to mine and gives me a look that steals my very breath away. I cannot even fathom the starlight sparkle in his eyes, I don't understand, I can't guess what he is thinking?

A small smile plays on his lips and he presses something small and metallic into the palm of the my hand. I feel my brows furrow in confusion and drop my gaze to examine the object. There in my palm is a slender silver ring, designed to appear like knotted and entwined ivy. I hear my breathing hitch and my heart starts to fly again. I lift my confused gaze to meet his, slightly amused, but mostly unfathomable stare;

"What? I...don't understand...what are you....what is this?" I ramble and blush deeply, ashamed at my inability to actually form coherent words. You think by now I could form a logical sentence! I drop my hand from his face and cup the beautiful ring in my hands, and drop my gaze, still completely unable to gather my scrambled thoughts.

"Clara?" He asks gently and takes my face in his hands again, coaxing me to look at him. His expression slightly anxious and there is a flash of uncertainty in his eyes, but for the most part he just looks in love - he looks like how I feel - and I cannot breathe as he takes a settling breathe and strokes loose strands of my hair back from my face. With a look that holds no regrets he eventually says what I have been waiting to hear;

"Will you stay with me? Will you be my wife?"

***********************************AUTHOR NOTE

CLLLLIIIFFFFYYYY....don't you just love them?Reckless? Romantic? No doubt about it, this pair really are in deep.Wonderful love and thanks to MavisMcQueen rose5607 Raider-k TiedinRed Elf_and_an_agent Tammyt70 and Asuyumi - for the lovely things you said.

Don't forget guys to keep supporting the fandom #TeamSmirkwood

*Disclaimer: I don't own any of the fabulous photography or artwork used in this fic. It all belongs to the original artists. Unfortunately some - like the amazing art above - I haven't been able to source back to an original source. So if you are the artist or know the artist let me know*

Until next time you amazing people (1k views already arrrgghhhh thank you).