runando ~ A Thranduil Story

Pitiful

Even though only one person had disappeared from them, Thranduil's halls felt ominously empty. Perhaps it was just him, overreacting even, but it wasn't a nice feeling. It was as if he had a stone in the pit of his stomach that continuously dropped. It was a horrid feeling. He could practically feel his guilt gnawing at him from the inside, threatening to burst out in a spectacular show of emotion. He'd driven Laineth away. The one woman he'd cared about, save for his mother, was gone and he wasn't all that sure that she'd come back to him.

Maethon had reappeared after his suspicious disappearance the night Glorfindel and Laineth rode off. When asked why he never turned up to his post, he uttered something about trying to stop Laineth from leaving, but Thranduil could see that he and his guard were feeling some of the same emotions. He decided not to press the man further, knowing full well that if someone did to him, he would not be happy. He was merciful upon Maethon, deciding that shifting his roster around to give him less fanciful patrols would suffice for a few weeks.

Norgon being the (over)protective husband he was, kept noisily expressing his worry over the stress the situation would cause his pregnant wife. Issel was barely a third of her way into her pregnancy, having only just reached the four month mark, but one could argue that she was early into her pregnancy and any stress could disrupt the child inside her. Immediately, the King knew that Norgon was going to be a tough father to break through if he were to have a daughter; Any ellon to dare think of courting the captain's daughter was going to get a very rash talking to.

Thinking of how glad he was to not have to do that with Laineth's father, Thranduil chortled from atop his throne as Norgon set into another one of his rants towards Laineth's carelessness. Normally, this time was reserved for daily overviews of the guards, but the two of them commonly spent the hour or two drinking and groaning about their respective partners. However, over the past fortnight they haven't exactly been able to do that, rather it's been entirely one-sided.

"This isn't a laughing matter, Thranduil!" Norgon stomped, giving Thranduil a disapproving look.

Rising up from his seat, he spoke, "I wasn't laughing at you. I was laughing at how pitiful my position would've been if I had to ask Laineth's father for her hand."

Norgon paused, raising an eyebrow and thinking the scenario through for a moment. Then, he spluttered, "Can you imagine? I would think that Sauron would be at least double your height. He'd probably throw you all the way back from Mordor."

Inhaling loudly, Thranduil went back to looking glum, "I would think Laineth could do that without even thinking twice. She has more muscle than you would think she does."

"Aye mellon, you miss her," A feminine voice shattered the bittersweet air.

The captain automatically looked up in the direction of the voice. He could sense his love with all five of his senses. If he had been blinded, he would be able to recognize her by her voice. If he had been deafened, he would be able to sense her by the touch of her hand. It was true love that united Issel and Norgon, it was something Thranduil had secretly admired. The two of them were a rarity, not only because the Lady was a noble Sindar and the Lord was a silvan soldier, but because they had a connection right from that start.

Himself and Laineth had that too, but it was likely that he had cut that off, chased her away.

"It is understandable, I do not know how I'd feel if my husband fled off to the other side of the Misty Mountains. I know I would trail behind him, pregnant or not." Issel made her presence known as she ascended the steps up to the platform before the King's throne, curtsying as she reached her husband.

"You know me too well, Issel," Thranduil replied, his eyelids suddenly feeling very heavy, "I wouldn't be surprised if you threw yourself into the ocean if Norgon did it."