"They are a weed, madam! We do not grow weeds in the royal gardens!"

"Madam...I hardly think that madam is an appropriate address between you and I, Raffyn?"

"It is entirely appropriate, you are betrothed to his royal highness and...Clara stop sniggering...my lady...restrain yourself...put the dandelion down!"

I give an amused chuckle as I watch a rather delighted Clara blow dandelion downs across Raffyn's face. He looks entirely hassled and it reminds me of the years I spent being an eternal thorn in that stuck-up, straight-laced, staunch advisor's side. He always did take things far too seriously.

Casually, I swing my right leg off the marble ledge I have seated myself on. There is a partial shade here, from the rowan trees and ivy branches that hide the structure overlooking the gardens...her gardens. I give a contented sigh and return to running a wet stone over the length of my sword. It won't do to have it blunt if we are to travel to Imladris. I expect Elrond and his Noldorian kinsfolk will be surprised to see me there...wielding a sword...but I need them to know I'm not to be sidelined just yet.

"Lady Clara I must insist you stop this frivolity this instant!" Raffyn's indignant shout has me scowling in the general vicinity of her musical laughter I was most enjoying.

With a sigh, I drop from the height of the ledge and casually swing the sword across the broad of my back - Clara will get a kick out of this.

"Raffyn!" I snap, schooling my features into a mask of cold intolerance.  The elf lord literally leaps in the air, my presence was clearly unexpected.

"Y-yes my prince?" He stammers and attempts to pick the downy fluff from the ends of his mousy hair.

"Is there a problem, because as I was made aware this is a healing garden," I gesture to the wide green space. The land quite literally melts into the fringes of the forest as they meet with the caves.  It is truly spectacular, and in every way perfect...at least to me.

"My lord," Raffyn huffs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "The lady Clara requires tuition if you wish her to accompany us to Imladris...and quite frankly two days is not nearly enough time to turn this...this..."

"I dare you to finish that sentence!"

I barely contain my laughter when a slightly infuriated Clara pops her head up from behind an oversized clay flower pot. She literally fumes at my father's advisor, and he glares straight back. Evidently I may not need to threaten him with my sword, my betrothed looks terrifying enough!

Clara is drowned in the basin of the pot, for it is truly a monstrosity of a broken bronze contraption, but she liked it, and she thinks she can bring it back to life...I have no doubt that she can. With that being said she certainly looks more like a scullery maid, and less like an authoritative Princess, as she hangs over the rim of said ugly pot.

It is absolutely adorable to behold.

"Raffyn, I believe you have offended my betrothed?" I say evenly, motioning inconspicuously for Clara to pipe down - I know she isn't truly offended but I just adore watching Raffyn squirm.

"I-I-I did not...I mean...'twas unintentional my lord," he splutters and eyes Clara peevishly, but she is quick in reassembling her features to appear mournful and hurt. "Your father insists she be prepared to greet the foreign dignitaries by name, and be able to converse with them as is expected of a noble lady. We have lists to get through, and we haven't even discussed Noldorian court etiquette. My lord, she cannot even recite the names of Lord Elrond's chancellors...she is nowhere near ready-"

"If she cannot remember their names then she is ready," I chuckle and wave my hand dismissively. "No lady of Greenwood should have to lower her standards to play proper with the Noldor. If they do not like our Silvan etiquette they should not invite us, but if Adar wishes Clara to learn the ins and outs of the Imladris gentry, then, I do believe I am more qualified. So, problem solved Raffyn...you are dismissed."

The always efficient advisor almost ruptures a vein as he glares daggers at us both, but he has no jurisdiction here. I am positive Ada will get an earful of this by supper, and no doubt I will receive yet another lecture on propriety, modesty, and making proper use of ones time. These past months have been nothing but a juggling act, and I constantly remain torn between the contentedness of life with her, and the volatile, rigorous, training that the King insists I attend to. I know he has allowed this engagement to Clara, but he is damn sure making it difficult for me to spend time with her. But that is the price I agreed to pay - I can have her and my family, as long as the throne comes first.

"My hero!" Clara chirps, as she clambers out from the pot, watching Raffyn flounce off into the distance with a delighted grin.

"Anything to rescue a damsel from such agonisingly boring company," I reply and give her a flourishing bow, just for theatrics sake.

"Oh, he isn't that bad," she tsks, as she scrubs what appears to be clay from her hands and arms, by an abandoned bucket. "At least he let me work on my restoration while he prattled on. Honestly, Thranduil, if I had of known leaving for Imladris was going to be this much hassle I would have voted to stay behind."

"It is not going to be that taxing, at least not for you," I assure her, and peer into the old damaged pot, curious as to what she sees in it. Half of its base is broken and eroded away, weeds grow up through moss covered clumps on the sides she hasn't reached, and for the most part it looks dull and lifeless.

"I'll take your word for it," she chuckles and sets herself down on the ground, rubbing her thumbs over the clay she was obviously using to try and stick the thing back together. Her eyes narrow, causing a tense frown to gather between her eyebrows, and the tip of her tongue is just visible at the corner of her lips...and I have never wanted to kiss her more...Ada is right to force this distance, I can barely control myself at the best of times.

"Why are you-" I pause when I register that I was about to ask her why she was teasing me so much, and instead I mutter out; "why are you wasting your time, it's beyond repair?"

"No it isn't," she insists, twisting around to flash me a wonderful smile, her cheeks all flushed from the summer heat, and her hair wild and free about her shoulders. "Nothing is beyond repair, it just needs a little affection, someone to love it...once I'm through with it, this pot will be unrecognisable!"

Good Eru, you have no idea.

"It is all in the spirit of the object you see," she continues on barely noticing my distraction. "I mean this pot was made, right? So it had a grand purpose, at one point it was needed and required, but you know things get tired. They get forgotten or they fade, but that doesn't mean they're broken. The soul of the creation is still there, it's just my job - or, well an artist's job - to find it again. Just because it looks hopeless and ugly doesn't mean that it is...give it time...you'll see."

"I love you," the words tumble out without my consent, and she gives me a baffled look but grins proudly nonetheless, her whole countenance lightening. I drop my gaze bashfully, leaning my arms over the ridge of the large pot and shaking my head; "I love how your mind works, so in tandem with your spirit, I swear it drives me wild to be this close to you and not truly be able to appreciate it."

"Well," she starts and pulls herself to her feet, sliding up beside me and resting her hand over mine; "Why can't you appreciate it, is it faulty? Calanon says I'm getting better at transferring energy, he thinks I've got the healer's gift. Here...let me show you..."

"No, Clara that isn't-" I step away but she follows. I outstretch my hand, keeping her at bay; "Clara, no, not yet, I am not...ready...I have to lead, it is too risky with my recovery."

"Oh...Okay," she relents, but only because she is terrified of causing me pain. I only wish that were the reason, and not the fact that she would feel the tattered holes in my body. She would sense the energy I expend on keeping it hidden, and the anger of that boils in my very blood...the contempt I harbour...she does not need to feel that.

"Come, we have a list of nobility to discuss," I give a soft laugh, trying to disperse the tension, and thankfully it seems to work. Clara drops the subject - a victory in itself - and let's me take her hand.

"Well, alright, but only because the King insists," she adds and I nod solemnly in agreement, as we link arms and make for the woods.

At last, a much longed for distraction.

xXx

"Do you ever wonder what's out there?" Clara mumbles in my ear, wriggling to make her head more comfortable against my shoulder.

We lie with our heads together - cheek to cheek - with our bodies sprawled on the forest floor like opposites...like a connected puzzle...watching the twilight sky turn from its waning pinks to deep purples. Elbereth's stars are glistening perfectly in the clear sky, the wisps of cloud making it appear like they are pinned to velvet cushions. It's beautiful, but not nearly as captivating as the elleth with me.

"Darkness," I answer reflexively, shrugging a little, "the skies that Arien and Tilion tread, and the domain of the Valar...Naneth called it Varda's canvas."

"Like an artist," she mumbles, and gives a sad sort of sigh. "I always feel like there is more to know...you make it sound so colourful."

I suppress a smirk, because it is far to easy to ensnare her imagination.  She is like a child, as if everything is new and no matter what way I tell a story she finds it fascinating - and I am no gifted story teller.

I feel her move, her hand untangles from mine were I had captured it and was unconsciously tracing the ring on her finger. I like to do that, I like the reassurance of that promise.  The thrill of knowing someday soon I'll know her entirely, and she will stay here, with me, with no question of where she belongs. She fits here - the forest, the stars, the land - she is alive in it, I can sense it.

"You are being awfully quiet," she points out rather blatantly as she rolls above me, her elbows planted either side of my head and her curious grey eyes blocking out my view of the stars. Not that it even bothers me...I much prefer this view anyway.

"I am enjoying the company," I answer her and grin mischievously when she rolls her eyes skywards and gives a little huff.

"Well, it's boring company," she replies in jest, a sarcastic tinge to her voice and a smirk threatening on her lips. "Let's play a game...something interesting?"

"Like?" I question, completely uncaring so long as she keeps smiling.

"Truth or Dare," she decides, casually drawing her finger over the lines of the silver scars of my face, the motion soothing and strangely intimate all at once.

"You go first," she prompts and I sigh.  This is not a game, this is Clara poking around the edges of something she shouldn't. It amuses me that she thinks she is being inconspicuous.

"I am almost tempted to pick dare, but I know you are burning to ask me something," I chuckle and reserve a smug look of victory for when she gives me an appalled gasp; "Truth...I pick truth."

"Why did you not want to feel the light of my spirit earlier?" She asks quietly, her gaze momentarily dropping away from mine. "You are always so cautious about it, it's like you fear it, but when we...bond...won't you have to? I'm just confused Thranduil, I thought you wanted to feel it...I thought it helped?"

"Clara, do not presume such silly notions," I groan and slap my palm to my forehead.

"I'm not presuming anything," she mutters softly, retreating from me and coming to sit back on her legs, a soft sigh escaping her; "Never mind, I'm sorry I brought it up."

There is a very long - very awkward - silence, and in it I attempt to rationalise why I should not feel guilty for not answering her.

I does not work...

"Why?" I moan loudly when I register she is offended, and roll onto my side to eye her up suspiciously.  "Why is it so important that I refuse to let you practise your healing abilities on me? It is my choice Clara!"

She picks her nails and keeps her eyes downcast, her lips parted as if she wants to speak but thinks better of it.  It is an irritating flaw of hers, she lacks the faith in her words, she cowers away from confrontation, even when I know she is more than capable of berating me. I wish she would just speak!

"Fine..do not answer me," I grumble, intent on returning to observing the stars again, "I thought this was the point of the game."

"You make me sound childish!" Clara snaps coarsely.

I freeze mid-position, and then slowly turn back around...well that's more like my Clara!

"I was only asking, you don't have to be so defensive," she continues, two solid tears pooling at the rims of her eyes. "You are always so...so...I don't know...but you do one thing and say another!"

She holds her two hands in claw positions and then begins to demonstrate how she would throttle me if she could. I find it so hilarious that my laughter seems to infuriate her further, but it does dissipate her tears.

"It isn't funny!" She accuses and leans away from me huffily, as I crawl towards her apologetically. "Stop ignoring my questions, or changing the subject, or pushing me away whilst whining that you want more...you make no sen-"

Her voice dies off into an aggravated muffle as I carefully hold my palm over her mouth. She glares daggers at me, and I can almost feel her heckles rise in defiance of being silenced. She really does ramble when she is upset, which is fine, only I cannot get a word in when she starts. Thus I am forced into unorthodox measures, because she ignored my several attempts at shushing and quietening gestures...headstrong elleth!

"Sshhh!" I scold playfully and wink, earning me a dissatisfied huff. "I will remove my hand if you swear not to go off on a tandem again...alright? You let me talk now, yes?"

I receive a seething look but one blunt nod of her head, so I release her. Mercifully she doesn't speak...just glowers...delightful.

"You are reading into this all wrong," I start carefully, painting a reassuring smile on my fake skin, disguising the entire fallacy of everything she knows to be true...oh valar how will I ever show her?

"I...am not well," I pick the words with difficulty and watch her eyes scrutinise me carefully. "It is not right of me to let you share your fea with mine yet...I would drain you...not on purpose....but...this is really awkward Clara, can you not just trust me?"

"No," she replies sternly, "I am sorry Thranduil but that excuse does not wash with me. If it is awkward then just spit it out...I am hardly going to laugh...I'm not insensitive. Tell me, or I am going to assume the worst."

"Good Eru...FINE!" I groan and lace her hands with mine, bringing them up and draping them around my neck. I pull her close, resting her forehead against my own, my jaw tightening at the thought of the exertion; "I have to show you, I cannot tell you!"

"Why? Thranduil I don't understand?" She mumbles worriedly, but I fix her with a serious look and quieten my voice.

"Feel my breath, my pulse, my heat...that is real...remember that," I tell her and inhale deeply, resting my palms on the softness of her waist, feeling her solid warmth and anchoring all my senses to it.

"This isn't how Calanon usually teaches me," she breathes in answer, her voice hitching a little at the end.

"I am not Calanon," I smirk as I exhale slowly in expectation; "alright...show me what you have learned, meleth."

There is nothing for the longest heartbeat, and I nearly relax in the hope she has changed her mind, but before I can articulate a question I feel her flood the energy between us and I audibly choke off any words.

It is strong...too glaringly strong...it burns senselessly. She is too overbearing, I can't let her further she'll wreck me!

In my fear I retract, but not before the strong tendrils of her light weave around my edges. Suddenly she isn't so frightening, suddenly I am mesmerised by the glittering purity of her life's flame. It is innocent, decadent, omnipresent...it is beautiful...I want it.

The cold, dying, flames of my once heated spirit begins to pull towards hers...hungry for the vitality she exudes. I let her thoughtfully examine my edges, I let her spirit meld with mine in a temporary, fleeting, very superficial bond...but it's not enough.

The wildness rises from the very depths of my essence. It thrums excitedly through the veins of my fea as it registers the proximity of hers.

I was not expecting this.

In a moment the world shifts, and I feel only her...or the essence of her. The wild tones of the forest scream in my blood. She is yours, it tells me relentlessly, she is your mate.

Instinct, it brings a crude clarity to the niggling gut feeling that your heart was not lying to you. For once it is telling me something I have longed to feel, and I am completely enraptured by the sensation.

I want to be closer to her, so I pull her even tighter to me. My lips are against hers before I even commanded them. My hands have left her waist and are searching for a way to find more skin...I need her skin againist mine...I want to feel her pulse beat in unison with her stunning spirit. I want to bury my deadness in the depths of her light, just so I can feel alive again.

With every wave of her fea's healing caress I am reminded of what it is to breathe again, without restriction. Like how the leaves of the trees need the light of the sun to live...I need her to go on. I don't have to be a shell, I am whole...I have never had that.

I want more....she is only for me...my love...my mate...

"S-s-stop," I stammer weakly, my hands entwining deeper into the roots of her hair, giving a contradictory message. "Oh Valar...good grief...Clara please...please do not push any deeper."

"You..." She gasps breathlessly against my cheeks as she wrestles away from my lips. "You are different...you felt...I felt...something powerful...it is addictive..."

She doesn't retreat, she is curious, maybe more than curious. That wild instinct has flowed directly to her, what she feels is too powerful for her, she can't think clearly around it. I can barely think around it!

"If you don't stop now, I will not have the strength or the will to break this bond," I tell her firmly, as I wrestle with all the conflicting desires of this moment. There are far too many...I have to pull back...she deserves better than my selfish wants.

She freezes in my arms, and I know she understands, for her fea begins to retreat from mine.

The absence is all I comprehend for a moment. The cruel bitterness of feeling empty and suffocated again. The loneliness of my self inflicted burdens. The gaping holes in my half being.

I am abruptly devastated.

A shocked groan escapes me as my head drops into her neck in my fatigue. She hold me, like I am frail, like I am the one in need of care after that experience.

"I am so sorry," I mumble tiredly, and shake my head shamefully. "That was unexpected...I thought I could control myself...but I can't."

"That was incredible," she replies, her face nuzzling into the crown of my head, her fingers smoothing my hair.

Calming, gentle, forgiving, gestures.

"The others don't feel like that,"'she continues on, as I enjoy the hum of her voice through the skin of her throat. "Tell me what I felt? Is it different because there is...an attraction between us?"

"There is so much more than just an attraction between us," I almost chuckle at her naivety. "What you felt was the beginnings of a mated bond...or at least the overwhelming desire to create one. I was calling to you...I did not mean to Clara and for that I am utterly ashamed. I should have stopped you sooner."

"Why are you ashamed? I mean I think I played a part in it, I didn't exactly not answer," she giggles nervously, her hands clamping around my cheeks and pulling me up to meet her elated gaze. "Is that what it will feel like...that powerful? That intense?"

"I don't know," I answer weakly, a noticeable flush rising up my neck at the embarrassment of my next statement; "it is entirely new to me too...I...I have never felt this way before Clara...you are truly my first and only love."

She moves awkwardly in her bashfulness, her cheeks flushing pink, and her eyelashes fluttering downwards...but she smiles. A beautiful smile that speaks to me of understanding, even if she can't verbalise it, and I believe she feels similarly.

"Well, I am sorry too," she eventually speaks and clutches my face in her hands, drawing me close to kiss just once. "I was meant to be healing you not...well...I don't really know what I was doing? I didn't even feel like me, I felt wild, free even, like-"

"The forest?"

"Yes!"

I cringe, and bob my head in a sort of half hearted attempt at an apologetic explanation;

"Yes....ahhh...that just seems to be me...I think? I told you I was not exactly normal either," I squirm in my answer and fidget when her eyes burn with a new curiosity. "It is just me Clara, nothing to concern yourself about...it is nothing...well nothing remotely useful...a genetic gift from my Naneth's side."

"I get it," she nods sympathetically. "I know how you come alive at the very mention of your woods. It makes complete sense that your nature is bonded to it...at least from a healer's perspective."

"Yes, okay, well let's leave it at that," I swiftly slam that topic shut. I really don't feel like elaborating on all the marvellously strange gifts my Mother blessed me with...and all the undesirable quirks that it creates. Like, being ruled by instinct instead of logic, for instance! I was one breath away from bonding with her on the forest floor - if she was consenting which clearly she was - what a fine mess that would have caused?

I feel ill...I need to get distance between us...I need space to remind myself why this is a bad idea, because right now I cannot think of a single reason?

"I am tired," I blurt out too quickly as I stagger to my feet. "I need to rest, there is so much to plan for Imladris. I have so much to consider...I need to rest...yes a rest will help."

"Okay," Clara chuckles and clambers to her feet to take my arm, and grins playfully. "Let's get you home then...before you start seeing stars."

I balk at her comment but her laughter only increases. I thought she promised not to laugh? Liar!

"I promise I will keep my practices confined to the healers from now on," she assures me and squeezes my hand. "And, I will let you do all the leading and teaching...I know I am too much for you."

She winks suggestively and leans in to kiss my cheek, whilst I struggle with lungs that have entirely forgotten to breathe. I stutter half words and undignified squeaks which I attempt to hide with a few well-timed coughs, but it's futile.

"You are bold, meleth nin," I scold weightlessly, and tug a strand of her hair; "your youthful curiosity is going to get us both in trouble."

She grins and winks, a flirtatious giggle sounding as she sticks her tongue out and pulls away from me.

"I cannot help myself," she sniggers and shrugs, "you have too many interesting qualities...basically it's all your fault."

"Well, I am not going to disagree," I reply with a nod, because truthfully I really should know better!

xXx

After picking through the contents of my supper plate - because my stomach was still in knots - I decided a time of quiet fireside reading was in order.

I selected the most boring historical texts I could find, and settled myself by the grand fireplace with a blanket and an untouched glass of wine.

Legolas, being the definition of my personal shadow, plopped himself on the rugs and took to orchestrating a mini battle with his various toys. This was vastly more entertaining and distracting than any book, so I took to watching him instead - interjecting occasionally to add expert opinions on battalion formations.

"You need more cavalry, ion," I half yawn out in my weariness, pointing to his one stray wooden horse.

"No, I don't need cav-ilrly...I want archers," he huffs and plonks a few more wooden figurines on the hearth. "They are better Ada, don't be silly!"

"Oh of course," I nod in agreement and roll my eyes before muttering; "what would I know?

I watch intently as he rearranges everything to precision, whispering his thoughts and commands with great consideration of the various fanciful monsters his rabble of toys would face.  It's quite thought provoking - to see him mimic me so - i absently consider that I do let him see too much, and that Clara may be right about encouraging him too much, but I am mildly impressed at his instincts. Although, impressed may be overstating things, for there is a slight fear that comes with such keen talents.

My brooding is interrupted by a heavy hand on my shoulder. I stiffen in shock my expression darkening at being taken so unawares...again!

"Thranduil...are you well?"

I cringe, shrinking into the fabric of the settee, for I really wanted to avoid verbal communication with him tonight. I really wanted to avoid any kind of scrutinising contact tonight. The last thing I need is my own Adar sniffing around me, and prying to things he knows will make us both terribly uncomfortable! 

"Of course I am well," I quickly retort with a careless grin, waving the unread book in the air, "just a little weary...but that is normal."

"Why would you be so fatigued?" He questions, his voice a fine balance between concern and suspicion. "I was under the impression you spent quite a lazy afternoon in the woods with...your betrothed?"

Raffyn...that nosey, inconsiderate, irksome...

"Thranduil? Are you honestly well...you are awfully flushed?" Adar interrupts my seething description with a rather patronising palm to my brow, as he positions himself on the sofa.

"Ada...I am not a child...Ada? Oh good Eru...this is pathetic!" I grumble when he refuses to remove his hand, even with my wriggling and excessive huffing. I even briefly consider snapping at his hand - this is mortifying!

"No, but you are still my child," he unhelpfully and quite sarcastically reminds me. "Where you with the elleth or not?"

"I was," I admit, gritting my teeth uncomfortably.

"And exactly how tiring was this walk about?" Adar continues with a quirked eyebrow, as he tilts the left side of my face to inspect carefully.

I stubbornly refuse to answer and instead meet his suspicious stare with my own angry glare. I am not a youth, I am not naive, and I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions without factoring in his opinions.

"You are not well enough," he begins quietly.

"I am fine!" I growl back before he can continue.

"No! No you are not," he mutters and shakes his head regretfully, before turning to Legolas and ordering him to go ready himself for bed.  I receive a light hug and kiss farewell as I mournfully watch him trot off, blissfully ignorant as to the importance of his presence in keeping Adar off any uncomfortable topics. I instantly go rigid at the thought.

"Thranduil," he begins diplomatically, and I resist the overwhelming urge to sink into the overstuffed pillows, and be swallowed by the blanket.

"Adar, with all due respect, I do not feel that this conversation is necessary," I attempt to faff off his intentions with a my arrogant attitude, which usually works...but oh no not tonight!

"No, it is ion," he reiterates again as he glares pensively at the ground. "You do not know how deep this will run, you are not prepared for it...this is my fault...I am not...competent...in discussing such matters."

"I was bonded before," I give a bored snort with my reply, "I understand the dynamics."

"You were bonded not mated, there is a significant difference," he grumbles and I bury my head into my hands...he is not happy unless he is making everything uncomfortable!

"I know this is not an easy topic but it is essential, I have already discussed my concerns with the healers," Adar prattles on regardless of my quiet mewing for him to just leave the subject alone. "You need to be careful, you are in such a fragile state Thranduil...it is only by the strength of your fea that you remain anchored to this flesh. You have no idea what will happen if you created a mated bond with that youth?"

"Clara...my betrothed's name is Clara!" I warn him forcefully, as I sit up straighter to meet his gaze with a challenging look. "Nothing negative can come from it Adar - she wants to be a healer - she would do nothing but good."

"But if she is not what you think she is, what then?" He queries and I bristle at the mere suggestion.

"Do you doubt her?" I snap coldly yet receive nothing but a weary smile in return.

"She is young - so young and innocent that I fear that she does not truly appreciate the weight of such a bond."

I click my tongue in irritation of the subject, leaning forward heavily in the seat as I contemplate coming to stand and quitting the room altogether. Adar chooses now to speak of such things? Where was his counsel over a decade ago? That was a time I actually needed it, with a 'wife' that showed no signs of enjoyment in a bond that should have been extremely joyful. A time of confusion - I am not confused now - this is exciting, this is overwhelming, and intense and awkward, and all those other foolish notions you are supposed to feel at the anticipation of finding a mate.

"The healers are in agreement," Adar murmurs awkwardly at my side, his palm outstretched as if he intends to rest it on my knee to stay me, but he thinks better of it. He blows out another sigh and attempts to meet my gaze; "Anything traumatic could undo all of this hard-work in getting you well. A mated bond could do wonders, or it could destroy what is left of you if it ends badly...again."

"And by ending badly you mean...?" I query and make a rolling gesture with my fingers which he stubbornly ignores, and continues to glare awkwardly into nothing. I purse my lips and decide on finishing his statement; "As in...she...Clara...is not what she appears and I am forced to break a bond again?"

There is nothing but stubborn silence, and my anger grows in it.

"I understand your just concerns," I attempt to sound out the words in the most diplomatic fashion I can muster. "But, with all due respect Ada, this is not the same situation and I know who she is."

"Thranduil you know nothing about her! She hides behind a wall of faked amnesia and for some unfathomable reason you play along," Adar hisses, his expression baffled and even worried. "Even her name, ion...that is no elven name...she is lying to you!"

"Well maybe I prefer it that way!" I growl back and jump from the seat making for the exit. I do not want to hear this, I do not want to believe this, and I will not think of her in that way.

"Thranduil...ion nin...come back and speak with me?" Adar trails after me, his voice pleading enough so that I stall at the door, but I refuse to look up at him. "You love her, I understand, and she is clearly very much besotted with you, but do not rush into this. All I want to ask is that you wait. Wait long enough to know that whatever her truth is, you can accept it."

I wrap my hand around the door handle; my heart is flying in my chest and my skin flushed the darkest red. I am hot, much too hot, I want out of this suffocating room.

"You let your guard down today," Ada murmurs quietly, in a manner that sounds both understanding and sympathetic. There is no judgment in his voice, and part of that makes this worse. "You let it go to far, didn't you?" I drop my gaze and lean my head against the door. "It is alright ion nin, it is alright to feel this way...this good...healthy even. I know what it is like to want to let them take it away, to let that love take away the memories long enough to feel whole again."

"How could you possibly know?" I snap bitterly, and resent myself further for being so scathing.

"Because I held your Naneth when she bore wounds too scarring to heal," he answers in the quietest voice, so quiet and emotive it makes me silence my inner struggle with him. I glance towards him and watch in shock as he falters over the rare emotion in his voice; "She took so much of me - she needed so much of me - and I felt every hurt and memory as if it were my own. We were mated Thranduil, we shared the one spirit, and before Eru himself I would never deny that it was the most sacred and greatest honour to be allowed to hold her spirit in mine...to love her."

"Why are you telling me this?" I swallow a thick lump in my throat and drop my gaze again.

"Because you love the elleth, and I cannot stop you from throwing your heart and soul into something, but I can guide you," he answers in probably the most honest fashion I've heard in decades. He shuffles towards me, quietly, like he doesn't want to push me away; "Get to know her, and let her know the truth about you. Let her see the scars and tell her of the past...maybe she will do the same? Either way, ease into this bond Thranduil...do not be selfish...think of the girl too. Just, prepare each other, take your time there is no need to rush."

"Okay," I whisper hoarsely, as I yank open the door, pausing momentarily to pick my words carefully; "Ada...I did not know that Nana was so ill. I did not know that you both suffered...by the time she decided to leave it was too late. I, well I never stopped to think that you carried her pain too...whatever ghosts haunted her they ran deep. She never spoke of it but I wasn't blind...she hid scars too, didn't she?"

"She did," Ada answers honestly, his lip quivering slightly, his eyes filling with some kind of rawness, but he smiles despite himself. "But you don't need to know how they came to be or why she hid them, for you were the light of her life. She wanted nothing but beautiful memories for her only child, her only blessing. So do not concern yourself with my burdens ion nin, I carry them gladly...I want you to be able to say the same."

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A/N: Nawww guys thank you so much for loving this story @Clover279 MavisMcQueen Tammyt70 ButlerGirlAnime Miss_Marshmellow Qeani-N dreamer0   n2n0n00   - honestly guys thank you for all the helpful feedback. Especially DreamerO for helping me out :D

So yea a bit of deep chapter there. Lots going on. I have a whole backstory for Oropher and his wife. For those who haven't or don't plan to read the main story. Oropher's wife is a non present OC of mine. Her Sindarin name is "Lassiel" which Oropher gave to her in Doriath. She defiantly takes the name publicly to spite her parents disapproval at her marriage.

Her heritage is mixed. Born on the western shores to a Teleri elf Lord and his Vanyarian wife (which introduces the beautiful and rare hair and eye colouring to her child which is actually a scholar supported canon idea). Thingol only admitted elves to his Kingdom who were of his Kin - those Teleri elves would have been kin to the Sindar. My plot is that she survives the kinslaying with her parents and she ran in fear (like many I'd presume) back to Arda and seek protection with Thingol and his Maia Queen. There she meets Oropher and they wed. But on the sacking of Doriath she barely escapes heavily pregnant with her son, and is forced to have him in the extremely dangerous wilds. Lassiel is gifted and bore the name Curuni (Quenya for Enchantress) the Noldor are searching and killing specifically those who are deemed a threat. When she is caught with a bundle of blankets she is pursued - under the assumption she carries the silmarils - and badly beaten in her effort to protect her baby. She casts a spell that ultimately leads to the death of her attacker. Oropher, on surviving finds her and his child in a pretty crappy way, and it's a long hard road to safety and peace. The wounds she survives cause her to become barren...so when Oropher tells Thranduil that he was her only blessing...he literally means it...she cherished him because she would never have the chance again. All of this is kept from Thranduil...because his mother killed another of their kind...Oropher never wants his memories of her tainted.

I actually really want to get the time to write all of that down properly, but in case I never do, that's the gist.

Anyhoo guys thank you! REMEMBER TO VOTE :D