~Aerneth and Thranduil handle their complicated relationship as best they can in the increasingly divided colony.~

oOo

Secret Lovers

The Mouths of Sirion, First Age 506

Thranduil's breath was hot on Aerneth's neck and his light kisses sent shivers down her spine as he undressed her inch by inch. He went frustratingly slowly, as if he had waited so long for this he wanted to make the moment last, but the quick pulse in his temple hinted how much it cost him to uphold his self-control. Her body was on fire too; she needed him now, yet she resisted the urge to hurry him on, allowing him to take control in bed just as she had always done.

It amazed her how well he still knew her; finding all her sweet spots, unravelling her until she could hardly even think coherently. She squirmed beneath him while he explored her body as thoroughly as if it were their first night together.

Nearly undone with want she pulled him down and at last he released his tight grip on himself and allowed raw passion to take over, nearly overwhelming her.

"Aerneth," he mumbled. "Aerneth..."

Seeing his flushed cheeks and glazed expression while hearing him say her name in that mesmerising voice brought her to one of the most intense releases she had ever experienced.

It took a while to catch her breath afterwards and she lay on her back, chest heaving as her heartbeat gradually calmed. Now that her desire had been sated she felt self-reproach come creeping. How could she have been so weak and come here despite everything? She was supposed to keep her distance from Thranduil, not encourage him.

She gave him a guilty glance and found his eyes already on her. There was something almost shy in his gaze; it was unguarded in a way she had not seen in decades. It reminded her of the young ellon he had been in his youth, before their marriage, before all their fights and troubles. Suddenly her heart swelled. Despite everything she still loved him. Perhaps Galadriel was wrong about the need for a clean break; maybe this time their marriage could actually work?

Firmly quenching the remorse she inched closer, trailing her fingers down his smooth, slightly damp chest, then letting her lips follow. His scent was still the same, the salty taste of his skin was as well.

He hummed pleasedly and leaned back.

Coming lower she noticed a half-healed wound on his thigh; a pink, raised scar several inches long. She touched it lightly. "What happened?"

He stiffened. "The battle with Fëanor's sons happened," he said after a moment's hesitation. "My opponent was strong. I had never fought an elf before, and on top of that he was better armed."

For the first time, the full impact of what had happened in Doriath struck Aerneth. There had been a second kinslaying where elves fought elves, and her husband had been in the middle of it. Filled with sympathy she cupped his cheek. "You must have been frightened."

His face immediately turned emotionless; the mask was back. "He nearly killed me. Aye, of course I was frightened."

Aerneth's lip began to tremble. He had looked so open and vulnerable before, but of course she had to open her big mouth and ruin everything. Thranduil was an ellon and a warrior; he did not want to be pitied. She ought to know that by now.

But then the dejection left her, anger taking its place. Why should she feel guilty over showing compassion? It was ridiculous to tiptoe around someone not to hurt their fragile ego, but Galadriel had been right; she always put the blame on herself. Thranduil's reaction just now was not her fault, it was his fault for not allowing her close. For not trusting her enough to share his pain and fears. "Why did you even put yourself in such a dangerous situation?" she snapped. "I told you to leave Doriath, but of course Ada's greed and stupid aspirations must come first, even when staying with him is practically suicide."

His eyes grew flinty. "Don't talk about him that way."

"I talk however I want. You lost your right to control me a long time ago."

"I have never controlled you!"

"Well you certainly tried to, Oropherion." She all but growled the name.

"Keep your voice down." He glanced at the wall. "And aye, I am Oropher's son and will do my duty to him. That is who I am, as you well know, and yet it was you who came here tonight. Having second thoughts already?"

His badly suppressed anger suddenly made her aroused. Deliberately driving him on, she retorted: "Not at all. I got what I came for; your body. If I could have it without the personality that goes with it that would be even better."

Grasping her arms, he pinned her on the bed. "Then I had better shut up and give you value for your time," he whispered coolly. "Tell me what you want."

"Take me," she breathed, heart racing with anticipation.

She did not have to ask twice.

Rolling out from under him afterwards, tears pricked the corners of her eyes. The act had been purely physical, detached and impersonal. She was horribly reminded of the sounds from Oropher and his wife through the wall back in Doriath; their fights that always ended with eager lovemaking.

Was she becoming like Thranduil's mother?

"You should probably go," he muttered.

Mortified, she dressed and climbed back out of his window without a word.

oOo

Aerneth did not feel like leaving her house the next day, but as leader of the colony she was needed out there. The refugees had only brought very little with them from Doriath and there were many new mouths to feed. To help them survive the winter she must bake more lembas and arrange fishing and hunting expeditions, and even then it would be hard. It was not optimal to gather food this time of year when they had to fish through holes in the ice and when the animals they hunted were lean from lack of food.

There was also housing to consider. As of now, the newcomers had settled in with their friends and relatives among the other Iathrim, but that was much too crowded to work for long. Suitable locations for new homes must be found, which was difficult because of the muddy ground in these parts.

She decided to go talk to Amdír, the leader of the Iathrim, and see if he had any ideas.

On the way she passed Galadriel's house and guiltily hurried her steps. Aerneth had disregarded her friend's counsel and she would probably figure that out if they met. It was not easy to hide things from her sharp eyes.

Amdír was not alone when Aerneth arrived. He was talking with Oropher, of all people, and she recalled the two of them had been friends back in Doriath. How typical. One self-important, stubborn Iathrim leader was tiring enough to handle; she did not need another one.

"Ah, young Aerneth." Oropher smiled with his mouth but his eyes remained hard and cold.

"Oropher." She dipped her head less than an inch.

"We were discussing housing," said Amdír, seemingly unaware of their frosty greeting. "I plan to give Oropher's people some land west of my enclave."

Aerneth's cheeks heated with annoyance. The land here was not Amdír's to give away, it was her father's, nor were the refugees Oropher's people! But she had to let it pass; it was not worth the energy to argue. "I see. That is a very rough area, mostly rocks. Where would they grow food or hunt?"

"My son has agreed to give them some of the pigs he breeds, but it is true there is not much else to eat up there. Maybe your people could share?"

She sighed. It would be a poor winter, for sure. "I shall see to it."

She was about to leave when Medlin, one of the border guards, entered. "We have found tracks in the snow not far from the palisade. Horse hooves, coming from the north and leaving the same way."

Oropher muttered what sounded like a curse. "Then we were followed from Doriath. I wondered why Fëanor's sons released the captives so easily; it must have been a ruse to find out where we escaped to."

"Why would they want to know that?" asked Medlin.

"I don't know," said Oropher quickly.

"It seems they are still looking for the Silmaril," said Amdír. "But it was lost, wasn't it?"

Oropher nodded. "Dior got rid of it before his death."

"Well, that's a relief," said Aerneth. "We have enough troubles as it is without having to fear a third kinslaying on top of everything."

Medlin chuckled. "Aye, I don't think we have anything else the Noldor want – unless they like mud and salted fish."

oOo

The Mouths of Sirion, First Age 511

Aerneth silently slipped out of Thranduil's window, tired and physically satisfied, but carrying the usual empty feeling in her chest that came with every such visit. Nowadays they knew that their old quarrels and grievances always lured close under the surface, only needing a minor spark to be ignited and erupt, so they took care not to talk to each other even casually during their meetings, reducing their relationship to a purely physical one. As if they were secret lovers rather than husband and wife.

But at least that way, they still had a relationship.

On her tiptoes, she hurried across the pine needles on the rocky ground, careful not to make a sound and wake people up. Thranduil lived with his father and the young princess Elwing, whom he had been looking after since the flight from Doriath, and their cabin was small with many neighbours – but at least he had his own room or they would be limited to Aerneth's house, which was built on a platform and a lot harder to sneak into inconspicuously.

In the five years that had passed since Thranduil and his people came, the Mouths of Sirion settlement had grown into three separate towns, with the Falathrim closest to the river and the Iathrim and Laegrim from Doriath further west, ruled by Amdír and Oropher respectively. Aerneth did not like how divided they were, but had to admit it was a lot easier to only mind her own people's affairs. And the less she had to see of Oropher, the better.

When she arrived at the gate separating the enclaves, she heard a commotion outside. Voices.

Breath hitching, she silently sneaked closer. It was a large group, several hundred elves at least, and going by their dark hair and style in clothing they must be Noldor. Fëanor's sons? But most of them did not look like warriors, and there were elflings among them. Who could they be?

Then she spotted Amroth and a few other guards calmly talking to the newcomers and relaxed. Things must be under control.

Amroth caught sight of her and waved. "Oh, good! You're awake." His eyes were shining excitedly. "We need to find lots of spare rooms. These are Turgon's people, from the hidden city! From Gondolin."

A chill crept through her body. "It has fallen," she stated, knowing without doubt that Ulmo's third prediction of Beleriand's ruin had finally come to pass.

He nodded. "About a year ago, they say. They have been on the run since it happened."

Squinting through the darkness, she scanned the many faces, suddenly nervous over who she might see. Glorfindel, the ellon she had kissed, had been from Gondolin. But as far as she could tell he was not there.

With difficulty she pulled herself together and bowed to them. "I am Aerneth Círdaniel. Welcome to the Mouths of Sirion."

A vaguely familiar man in a worn silver armour went forward. "I remember you. We met near Dor-lómin many years ago. I am Tuor, son of Huor, and one of the new leaders after the king's death."

"What happened to the king?"

Before he could reply, an elfling in the crowd began to cry.

"Never mind, the hour is late and you must be tired; I will try to find housing for you in the Falathrim enclave. You can tell me more on the way there."

During the walk, Aerneth and Amroth fell in step with Tuor and his family. His wife introduced herself as Idril, daughter of the late King Turgon.

Aerneth nearly jumped in surprise at that. "But you are an elf, and Tuor–"

Idril smiled tiredly. "I know."

"Love knows no boundaries," said Tuor. "Though, in our case, perhaps I should have stepped back. Allowed him to have you. If I had, then all of this–"

"Nay!" his wife interrupted. "It wouldn't have changed anything. Maeglin's heart was already black, long before he came to us."

"Who is Maeglin?" asked Amroth.

"A traitor," spat Idril.

"He was Idril's cousin," Tuor elaborated. "He wanted to marry her but her adar said no."

"And I said no."

"That too. Which he couldn't forgive. He hated me, and our son, and King Turgon too, I dare say. So, it appears he went and told Morgoth how to find Gondolin. Making us all pay."

Together, Idril and Tuor told the rest of the tragic story. After Maeglin's betrayal it did not take long until Morgoth sent a large army of orcs, dragons and balrogs. They surrounded the city, and though both the king and his people fought valiantly it was a lost cause. The survivors managed to flee through secret tunnels, losing many on the way, and now these few hundred elves were all that remained of Turgon's people.

"I once met two ellyn from Gondolin," Aerneth murmured. "Ecthelion and... uh, Glorfindel."

"Both dead, I am afraid," said Tuor ruefully. "They were true heroes. After taking down many foes Echtelion managed to mortally wound the balrog leader, but sadly was pulled down with him into the king's fountain. He drowned there."

"And Glorfindel saved us from another balrog during our escape," said Idril. "He too died in the fight – the monster caught him with the tip of his whip and he fell down a deep gorge."

Full of mixed emotions, Aerneth saw Glorfindel's handsome face in her mind. She could still feel part of the attraction that had led her to kiss him against better judgement. It was strange to know he was gone, and yet a huge relief, too; now Thranduil and Glorfindel would never meet, sparing her from causing a possible fight between them.

Her eyes burned. Though it felt horribly wrong and selfish, she was actually grateful an ellon was dead. What did that say of her?

❈ ❦ ❈

A/N:

I will stop apologizing for slow updates lol, I hope you guys know I will keep writing and finish this story even if it takes another year. And as a bonus I'm giving you two chapters today!

Image Credits
Screenshot from the Witcher 2