Elwing and Eärendil
~Queen Elwing is growing up fast but her advisors don't think she is ready to rule. When she sets her eyes on a certain Eärendil she proves she is no child anymore.~
oOo
Thranduil, by Chicotfp
Elwing and Eärendil
Havens of Sirion, First Age 524
Naked in the afternoon sun, his wife's smooth curves glowed in hues of gold and amber. As usual when they met in this creek, Thranduil took his time to admire it, relaxed and satisfied after the intimacy they had just shared. It was a pleasure to see her in daylight.
"I ought to get going," she murmured, eyes closed against the light. She did not make a move.
"Me too." He remained at her side, leaning on one elbow. The sand was soft against his naked skin, the sound of waves lapping the beach peaceful. It was a lovely place; a calm creek between steep cliffs, located far enough from the Havens to ensure privacy but near enough to get there fairly speedily, Aerneth by boat and Thranduil walking over the cliffs.
An azure, miniature butterfly fluttered past and landed on a flower, leisurely flapping its wings.
"I really should go." She yawned.
He sat up and stretched, feeling her gaze linger on him as he did so. Smiling a bit smugly, he asked: "Hungry again?"
"Perhaps a dessert." She licked her lip.
He indicated his body. "All yours."
In no time her mouth was on him, working its magic, reigniting the fire that was always close beneath his surface. When he took her again he did not restrain any of that passion. Carrying her in his arms, he pressed her back against the sheer cliff wall, feeling her legs cling around his waist as he pushed deep.
A while later, Aerneth wiped her brow, chuckling into his shoulder. "That was intense."
He carefully set her down. "I hope I didn't hurt you."
"I may get a bruise or two as a memory." She rubbed her buttocks. "It was worth it."
Her pleased grin warmed his chest, procuring a tiny hum, as if the miniature butterfly had settled within him.
Things were going well lately and he saw his wife often. Perhaps the tide was finally starting to turn in their favour. Perhaps he could allow himself to feel again...
Full of hopeful thoughts Thranduil walked home.
Back in the city, he tried to enter the house silently to avoid questions of his whereabouts, but his father was right behind the door, irritatedly pacing the narrow space.
"There you are! I have been waiting for ages!"
"My apologies. I was out hunting," he lied.
"The wilful little minx is gone again. She drives me stark mad, you know, and you are the only one who can handle her."
He sighed. "I will look for her." Then he added carefully: "Did you have another fight?"
"Fighting with children is beneath me," he huffed. "She took so long this morning we were tardy to today's council, and I reprimanded her accordingly. But instead of apologising she ran away."
Thranduil tried to stay calm. "You beat her," he stated.
"Hardly; just a light smack for emphasis."
"She is your queen," he snapped, wishing he could deal a 'light smack' to his father for emphasis as well. "And far too old to be punished physically. At her age a mortal is an adult; you know this."
"If she wants to be treated as an adult queen she must start behaving like one," he retorted, paling with anger. "Adult queens are not late to council. Adult queens pay attention and take an interest in their realm! Now fetch her, or you shall find I can still punish my adult son physically as well if necessary."
Thranduil gave him a wary glance. He probably did not really mean that, but with Oropher one could never be too sure. "I am on my way."
He found Elwing in the port, leaning against a stack of timber while watching Tuor's half-finished ship. For some reason she was often drawn there, perhaps curious about the art of shipbuilding. It was not easy to know with Elwing; she hardly ever said a word.
He joined her, noticing a slight swelling beneath her eye. 'Light smack', indeed.
"Running away will only make it worse, you know."
She rolled her eyes, lips turning down.
"I am ordered to bring you back at once." At her hard glare he added in a deadpan tone: "But as it turns out, you are extraordinarily difficult to find today. I have no idea where you might be."
That rewarded him a small, conspiratorial smile, then her gaze returned to the workers.
He followed it, noticing how far they had progressed since last he was here. It would become a large ship, the biggest he had yet seen, stout and robust. Would it succeed where no other had? Tuor and Idril meant to sail to Aman, which was why they had returned from the Isle of Balar where they lived with the rest of the refugees from Gondolin. Not many trees grew out there so they had to come ashore to get enough building material.
Thranduil was not very optimistic about their project; he knew how many had failed before them, far more skilled sailors. Falasiel, Aerneth's mother, was one of them. Trying to reach the Valar was a suicide mission, and he pitied their son who would be alone when they left.
He caught sight of the son, Eärendil as his name was, carrying a stack of heavy-looking planks. As usual it was something of a shock to witness mortal ageing. Last time Thranduil saw him, Eärendil had been a little, blond boy holding his mother's hand, now he was a grown man with a bearded chin and broad shoulders. He wore only linen pants, and a sheen of sweat made his muscular torso gleam.
Suddenly suspicious, Thranduil turned back to Elwing. Her eyes were very large as they followed the young man. Thranduil recognised that look; his wife had used it on him earlier that day.
So that's what drew her to the port. She certainly was growing up uncannily fast.
The boy looked up, noticing them and dipped his head in a greeting. His grin was a little too cheeky for Thranduil's taste.
"We ought to go," he said, more sternly than he typically would, taking her arm. "The sun has almost set."
Reluctantly she obeyed when he pulled her with him, visibly squaring her shoulders in anticipation of facing her furious guardian.
Thranduil steeled himself for the meeting too, ready to mitigate his father's anger and protect the young queen from the brunt of his temper. It was a bit like when his wife lived with them.
Apparently some things would never change.
oOo
Havens of Sirion, First Age 525
The next time the queen ran away was some months later, and even Thranduil could not find her now. As it turned out, young Eärendil had gone missing as well.
Tuor took it with peace. "Most likely they return after a night or two," he said, his human accent prominent. "Giving us no other option than to wed them." He stood beside his ship, a paintbrush in one hand. It was nearly finished and he had planned to sail early spring.
"How can you be so calm when your son has abducted a young girl!" Oropher fumed. "Our queen is taken advantage of, for the Valar's sake!"
The man frowned. "Nobody is taking advantage of anyone. I have seen her eyening my boy often enough the past months."
Oropher looked like he had a lot to say about that, but Thranduil put a calming hand on his arm. "It is true, Adar. She is quite smitten."
"And she is hardly a 'girl'," Tuor added. "The concept may be alien to you elves, but she inherited her parents' mortality just like my son inherited mine, and our kind mature earlier. Many human women in their twenties are already married with children."
"Have you forgotten what was decided by the council that led to her coronation? She is supposed to wed an ellon, not another half-elven! Now her children will be mortal too."
"That is yet to be seen."
Idril joined them. "I find this match a good thing, a blessing, especially since my husband and I shall leave this shore soon. Eärendil and Elwing have much in common; they will both be without kin, both are half-elven, both of royal birth. If you so badly want an elf on the throne, then ask their eldest child to marry one. Mortal generations pass swiftly."
Her reply placated Oropher somewhat. "Fair enough, my lady," he said reluctantly. "But they should have asked first."
"And would you then have allowed her to wed my son?" she retorted.
"She is the queen; I can only advise her. But nay, I would likely have advised against it – because of the rashness. She cannot possibly know young Eärendil well enough to love him; love takes time to grow, and effort. I courted my wife for ten years."
Thranduil felt an uncanny sense of déjà vu. His father had said almost the same thing to him not long before he married Aerneth. If only he had abided his father's wisdom that time!
Having seen Elwing with Eärendil, Thranduil suspected her reason to elope was not unlike what his own had been. She was driven by desire.
oOo
Just as Tuor had predicted, Eärendil and Elwing returned two days later, calmly walking into the town, hands joined.
Oropher strode out to meet them as soon as he heard the news, with Thranduil hurriedly following suit, fearing the worst.
"The queen and I are betrothed to be married," Eärendil proclaimed when he saw them. "Until that event, my fiancee shall live with my family.
"Absolutely not!" Oropher grabbed the girl's arm, trying to pull her from her lover's grip.
"Don't touch her," said Eärendil warningly, eyes shooting daggers.
"I might say the same to you." But despite his defiant words, he let his hand drop.
"Unlike you, he is allowed to touch me," said Elwing, surprising them all. She rarely spoke, and when she did, never in such a confident voice. "I order you to leave me alone. I decide where to stay until the wedding, and it will not be with you."
Oropher gaped like a fish as she turned her back to him and left. "The nerve," he stuttered.
When they were alone later, Thranduil listened with half an ear to his father's rant about insolent girls, disobedience and scandals. He had a bad feeling about the whole thing. Oropher was right, this was rash, but he supposed Elwing would have to discover that for herself. If she was anything like Aerneth and Thranduil had been in their youth, it would be too late to back out of it; the deed would already be done. They would be married before Eru.
Despite his suspicions, Thranduil took pains to seek out the young couple and Eärendil's parents to choose a date for the wedding, and shortly thereafter he began organising it to make it a grand, memorable day. The city had not had much to celebrate in recent years, and a wedding was always special. A promise of new love, new life. A reminder that despite the war in the north and Morgoth's growing strength there were still values worth relishing.
He had to do the planning mostly by himself; his father claimed he had a headache, which probably was true after his lengthy fit of rage. But Thranduil did not mind, quite the contrary. He enjoyed the free reins.
He had soon hired musicians, maids, cooks and other staff to his liking, and seeking out his friends Amroth for pig meat, Taurandir for the finest wild fowls, and Galion for wine, he had a splendid menu planned as well. A batch of his wife's special ginger-and-honey lembas would be a lovely finishing touch.
When he went to ask for the latter, Aerneth greeted him in a businesslike manner, pretending he was a normal customer. "For a wedding you must try some samples! Please come in."
Of course, sampling lembas was a very small part of what they occupied themselves with during his stay.
oOo
Feeling rather conscious about his bulky satchel, Thranduil entered the guest house where Tuor's family lived during the work with the ship, and was shown to the queen's room. It was the day before the wedding and due time he delivered her heirlooms.
"I have some things for you," he began when they were alone.
She indicated the chair next to hers and he took it. Her small smile seemed to mean she was glad to see him, but it was always hard to interpret her face. She was a lot like himself that way, hiding her emotions, preferring to remain silent most of the time. He could only hope her life would not turn out the same disaster as his had.
Shaking off the worry, he picked up the first item, a small pouch, and fished out a ring made of two snakes and a flower crown. "This belonged to your naneth; it was her wedding ring. But before then it was given to your adar by his adar, Beren." He continued with the tale of how Beren's father Barahir had once rescued King Finrod of Nargothrond and received the ring as a token of their friendship.
Elwing put it on her finger, but it was a little too large.
Thranduil smiled. "Perhaps give it to your son," he suggested.
Eyes bright, she nodded, returning it to the pouch.
Next, Thranduil unfolded two scabbards with a longsword in each. "This sword was your great-grand adar Thingol's, it is called Aranrúth. And the other is Narsil, forged by Telchar of Nogrod, a famous dwarf smith." He smiled wryly. "I don't much like dwarves but they make fine weapons."
Not looking very impressed, she accepted the swords.
"Your son will like them."
"Or my husband." She smirked.
Pleased that she had broken her silence for a change, Thranduil took the opportunity to ask: "What is he like?"
"Attractive." Her cheeks coloured. "Strong. A good husband."
He wanted to tell her that those were just physical traits that said nothing about him as a person, but what was the point? She looked happier than she had ever done. Perhaps this was a good match; sometimes people were lucky like that.
"I am glad for you."
Elwing glanced at the satchel. "More?"
"Just one thing, the last heirloom we managed to salvage. And this... This, you must keep secret at all costs. Will you promise me that before I show it?"
She nodded solemnly.
"Say it," he prompted.
"I promise to keep it a secret."
Thranduil unwrapped the final cloth, covering his eyes against the brilliance. "As you probably realise, this is the Silmaril necklace."
She breathed out, gingerly touching the shining metal surrounding the dazzling stone.
"Only my adar and I know it was not lost when Doriath fell," he continued. "It is safest that way. It already caused the death of both your adar and King Thingol, and if Fëanor's sons knew it was here they would not hesitate to attack again." He put the fabric back over the jewel. "Keep it hidden. Keep it safe."
"I will."
"Then there is only one more thing for me to do." He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "Congratulations, my queen. May tomorrow be a blessed day, and may your marriage be long lasting and happy."
Eyes glittering with tears, she answered with a quick hug in a rare display of affection.
❈ ❦ ❈
A/N:
Weddings tend to be happy events, and perhaps this one can help Thranduil get closer to his own wife as well?
Read more in the next part if this chapter (I divided it because it became so long).
Image Credits:
Amazing digital art by my favorite artist chicotfp on Tumblr, https://chicotfp.tumblr.com/
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