Rebirth

Thanks to Panneth for beta reading. Thanks to all of you who have read and reviewed and been such a great support. And finally, thanks to Marcel Proust.

Chapter 2: Remembering

“She came along and she cut me loose …” Coldplay.

Master Tholinnas shook his head in amazement and sat in silence for a long moment. Elves returning from Mandos were not the type of incidents that happened everyday. As a matter of fact, it was a very rare occurrence. Yet, right in front of his very own eyes, there was tangible proof of the veracity of it: the Queen had been returned to the world of the living. He had never known her, but he had heard many among the Wood-elves speak kindly of her.

The healer was aware of the Elvenking and Oropher’s presence a few steps away from him. While the Elvenking seemed pensive, Oropher did not seem to be able to stay still. He was fidgeting and pacing around, stealing long glances at his mother. Master Tholinnas, however, was more worried about the King than he was about the younger elf. He had offered him some herbs to help him deal with the shock of his wife’s sudden presence, but he had refused forcefully. The bewilderment in the King’s eyes was obvious to see. Thranduil appeared to have stepped into an unknown realm where he was uncertain of what may happen next.

Master Tholinnas turned his attention to the Queen. She was still unconscious, in some sort of trance. Her face was grey, even under the warm light of the Sun that filtered through the window. Master Tholinnas pursed his lips, unsure of how to proceed. After his examination he had concluded that her body was in the best of health. Her spirit was a different matter, for it seemed to be sunk deeply in a web of old recollections. He heard the rustling of skirts close by and lifted his eyes to see his apprentice, Faelwen, handing him a cloth soaked in athelas water. He took it and used it to wipe the Queen’s forehead and face. After a few moments her brow lost some of its tension and she seemed to sink into a deep sleep.

Faelwen took the cloth back from him and mentioned,

“Only by looking at her face can you see the strain that troubles her. And her eyes … I wonder what is happening in her mind.”

Master Tholinnas nodded, understanding what Faelwen meant. The Queen’s eyes were closed shut, to the point that it almost seemed painful. The strangest thing was that they were restlessly moving under the eyelids, as if they were actually witnessing events unfolding in front of them. Master Tholinnas frowned in frustration. During his training in Rivendell he had heard Lord Elrond explaining similar behavior in humans, during their moments of deepest sleep, but he had never observed this happening in an elf.

The healer turned toward the Elvenking and said,

“From what I can gather, I believe she expected to see you, but encountering one of your children as well was more than she could handle.”

The Elvenking remained silent. Master Tholinnas continued.

“She is remembering, but how much she will know when she awakens I do not know,” the healer said. “All we can do now is wait.”

He rose from the bedside and Faelwen excused herself. Master Tholinnas collected his things and then walked to Thranduil. He was by the window, staring pensively at the outside world. The healer cleared his throat and the Elvenking turned to face him.

“’Tis a shame Lord Glorfindel has departed for the West. He might have been of great help.” Master Tholinnas pondered for a long moment. “I wonder if he might have left some journals behind. Maybe even Lord Elrond kept track of Glorfindel’s progress over the years. It would be advisable to send a messenger to Imladris; the sons of Elrond might be of some help in this matter.”

“I will send a messenger right away,” Thranduil said after a moment of silence. His eyes shifted again to the figure lying on the bed. His eyebrows knitted as he traveled his beloved’s features. Master Tholinnas continued,

“It would be wise to introduce her to her old life gradually. Too much information could have undesirable results.” Master Tholinnas lowered his voice and finished, “there are other matters of a more private nature we need to discuss.”

Thranduil tried to gauge exactly what the healer needed to discuss with him, but couldn’t. One thing was obvious: Master Tholinnas didn’t want to speak with Oropher present. Thranduil walked to the door, and asked Oropher to follow him. To his surprise, he found a whole crowd gathered in the middle of the hall when he opened the door.

The murmurs that had filled the air died immediately and Thranduil found himself pierced by many pairs of eyes, waiting for any information the King might give. Most of them, Thranduil realized, were the helpers and workers that had known the Queen previously and love and concern shone on their faces. The Elvenking was moved at the sight. He cleared his throat, and simply said,

“The Queen is back. Unseal the Royal Chambers.”

Thranduil then turned to Oropher,

“Make sure all of her possessions are removed,” he confided with his son. “Tell the maids to leave only the essentials.”

“I understand, Father. I will personally make sure it is done.”

With those words Oropher left. Thranduil gave one last look at those left in the hall and then entered the room again. He walked to Master Tholinnas’ side and said,

“What exactly do you wish to talk to me about?”

Master Tholinnas smiled nervously and fidgeted with his bag. If the situation wouldn’t have been so serious the Elvenking would’ve laughed. Master Tholinnas had been the family’s healer for many years and in the process of taking care of the royals he had become a friend as well. But at this very moment the healer was behaving as if he were in his first assignment. After a failed attempt to get the words out of his mouth, Master Tholinnas finally succeeded,

“It would be advisable that you do not seek any type of intimacy yet. Her fëa is old, but her hroa is new. Her body looks like the one she had in her previous life, but the likeness ends there. She will need time for her fëa to commune with her hroa . . . a joining may prove to be more than she could cope with right now.”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow and stared at the healer with an indignant look on his face. Joining with his wife had not even entered his mind. Regardless of the Elvenking’s discomfort, Master Tholinnas seemed to breath easier once he had finished with the most delicate side of his advice.

“I have used restraint all these years,” Thranduil finally spat out. “I think I can handle myself for however long is necessary.”

“But there is also the question of gwedinaeth. It is bound to become undone.”

Thranduil shook his head and paced for a moment around the room. He had undergone gwedinaeth after Idhreniel’s death. The procedure itself consisted of a series of exercises that helped him bind the pain that his wife’s absence had caused him. It also allowed him to resume his duties as father and king at a time when he felt as if he wouldn’t live to see the light of the next day. Thranduil stopped in front of the healer and said,

“I am prepared to face it if it were to happen. Do not concern yourself.”

Master Tholinnas smiled sympathetically. Thranduil would not ever admit he needed help even if he were about to step into Mandos.

“All that I am saying is that you should proceed with caution,” the healer said softly. “Call for me if you need me. Do not be so stubborn as to think that you do not require a healer’s wisdom … or a friend’s company.”

“Hannon le,” Thranduil replied, truly touched.

The healer left and Thranduil stayed at the spot for a long moment. His mind was lost in thoughts past the four walls of the room. He sat on a chair and there he waited, drowned in turmoil and anticipation. It was almost evening when he heard her calling.

“Thranduil?”

Her voice sounded frail and it was barely a whisper, but to hear her say his name was like a balm for his soul. He walked to her bedside and looked down at her. He was still uncertain on how to act. One side of him told him to embrace her, to kiss her, to touch her just to convince himself that she was indeed there. The other side, his cautious side, told him to wait, warned him to wait. He could see the confusion on her face. He could see the way her eyes were darting here and there, absorbing everything, but not fully understanding. It would take her time to become the determined elleth she had once been, to recover all of her wit and strength.

Politely, he asked,

“Do you have need of anything? Food? Water?”

She propped herself on her elbows and silently stared at him for a long moment. Her long blonde hair shone brightly against the brown and green of her clothing. Only then did Thranduil realize that she was dressed like a scout. Idhreniel seemed to sense his puzzlement, but all she said was,

“Sit down, please.”

He did as he was told and took a seat on the bed, facing her. She sat down also and thanked him when he helped her to prop herself up against the many cushions lining the headboard. She looked at her surroundings and he saw clear disappointment on her face.

“This is not our room.”

“The Royal chambers are being prepared for you. I rest now in different quarters, closer to our sons’ rooms.”

“Our sons?” she asked. Before he could answer, she closed her eyes and a blissful smile drew itself on her face. “Yes . . . Legolas, Oropher, Aradol. Our children.”

She opened her eyes, proud to have at last remembered her own offspring. The thought of children had not crossed her mind when she arrived to the Palace. Oropher’s presence had caught her by surprise, more so than Thranduil’s.

Husband and wife stared at each other for a long moment. The silence in the chamber was becoming a heavy burden, but neither of them was certain how to proceed. Wishing to break the uncomfortable moment, Idhreniel told her husband of her awakening by the riverside and her encounter with the scouts. She told him of her dreams and the few recollections she had of their life.

Thranduil seemed to soften his demeanor and he seemed delighted when she told him that she remembered the day of their first meeting. Seeing that he seemed more at ease, Idhreniel asked of him the one thing that had been on her mind throughout their conversation.

“May I …?” She asked as she lifted her hands to his face. The gesture left no doubts. She wished to touch him. Thranduil nodded, but to Idhreniel’s dismay, she saw concern clouding his eyes.

Her fingers caressed the side of his face first. Soft skin and silky flaxen hair, so light it was almost silver. As her fingers moved she felt the proud structure right underneath his skin that gave him the regal look she had seen in her dreams. Her thumbs caressed his cheekbones and her fingertips traveled down his face to rest for a brief moment on his lips. She lightly touched the length of his nose and she fixed her eyes in his as she did. He seemed to be as enthralled with her as she was with him. The only sound in the room was the soft breathing of the two elves; almost in unison, the same as their hearts.

She forced her eyes away from the lure of his gaze and nervously stared at the leaves crowning his head. She raised her hand, intending to touch it, but she curled her fingers away and hesitated. Thranduil moved his head slightly, almost inviting her to do it. His voice resonating in the silent room caught her by surprise and she stared at him again when he spoke.

“You were always the one to make these crowns. You chose the flowers for Summer and the berries for Winter, and then you weaved them and prepared them.” He paused and took her hand in his. It was cold, but her skin was silky and delicate like a newborn’s. “… and you were the one to put this crown on my head every single time,” he finished with a note of melancholy in his voice.

Idhreniel squeezed her husband’s hand, and then she disentangled herself from him. She raised now both hands, intending to lift the crown, just as she had seen herself do in her dreams, but the moment the pads of her fingers touched the white flowers, she felt as if she had been burned.

Images came to her mind in a rush. Happy times, sad seasons, laughter and tears resonated inside her. She had children in her arms, she stood by her husband’s side as Queen and ruler. She read, she sewed, she sang, she wrote, she loved. She could see the great trees of the Greenwood, she could hear the happy squeals of her offspring … and then water, water pulling her down, cold water that she could feel in her bones, drowning her. She needed to breath, just a gasp of air …

She opened her mouth and breathed in deep gulps, feeling like she would never be able to get enough to live. Her eyes felt moist with tears and she realized that she had fallen back on the bed and that Thranduil was holding her in his arms. She stared at him frightened by the intensity of the images. She took his hands and moved them away from her, then let herself sink against the pillows. Regretfully, she tried to explain as best as she could,

“The memories return too fast. It is like a storm inside me, a nightmare I cannot escape. I cannot cope …”

Thranduil nodded understanding, then said,

“I shall go.”

*

Thranduil didn’t know how he had arrived to the family’s garden, but he breathed in relief when he found himself sitting on the ledge of a fountain. The soft breeze of the early evening cleared his senses and brought him a slight relief. Yet he knew that something was amiss and that this was only the calm before the storm.

He hadn’t expected that her innocent touches would awaken her memories in such a way. He should’ve known better. He had been fearful when she had fallen into that strange spell. As he held her and Idhreniel battled her demons, Thranduil had felt the most peculiar feeling inside him. It felt as if something had snapped. He knew now that his own battle had begun.

Unconsciously, his right hand grasped his chest, right above his heart. Gwedinaeth was becoming undone. The pain, the despair, the raw loneliness of the first weeks following the death of his wife were hitting him mercilessly with the fury of a hot whip. He tried to rationalize the situation … she was back, there was no need for desperation, everything would eventually be resolved. But the reasoning of his mind did little to bring him any peace.

The world began spinning and not even the deep breaths of air he was taking in were helping him to gain power over his passions. His hroa and fëa were out of control, fighting for dominion, and unable to stand the brunt of memories past. The emotions tore at his heart and he could do nothing to stop it. His mind kept falling into a tumultuous mélange of recollections and experiences he would best leave forgotten and his heart relived with bitter pain the tears and the lonely nights that had followed his mate’s departure.

Thranduil shook his head, as if the move would rid him of the unwanted sorrow. He concentrated his senses on the bubbling water of the fountain. His fingers dipped below the surface. He allowed the song of the falling drops to fill his mind. The water felt cool to the touch. It was like singing silver. Slowly his heartbeat returned to normal and his breathing calmed down.

The soothing sound of the water was interrupted by a foreign rustle, and Thranduil stared ahead to see Oropher approaching.

“Adar,” Oropher said. “Have you been here the whole time? I have been looking for you all evening. Mother is in her chambers now.”

Thranduil looked up at the sky. It was close to midnight. How long had he been fighting the unbinding? He rose hastily, almost losing his balance. Oropher was immediately by his side.

“Are you feeling well?” He asked.

Thranduil shook his head and said,

“The presence of your mother is unchaining the old pain. Gwedinaeth is loosening its binding.” He heard Oropher’s exclamation of surprise, but Thranduil paid no heed and continued. “I am to retire to my rooms. I do not know for how long I will be gone. Only Master Tholinnas is allowed to see me, no one else. Take care of your mother. She might wish for some company, perhaps Annael would be a good choice.”

Oropher agreed with his father and assured him that the Queen would be taken care of. Annael was wife to Thranduil’s First Captain and both were dear friends of the family, especially Legolas. Annael had never met the Queen and that fact, combined with her agreeable nature, might prove to be of great help.

Oropher walked by his father’s side as they entered the dwelling, ready to help him in whatever was needed. His father was obviously distraught, but he would not admit any type of weakness. Even though the burden he carried was visible, the Elvenking still tried to command himself with dignity. Wanting to ease his father’s worries, Oropher said,

“Father, I shall make sure that we send our fastest messenger to Imladris. I will ask Master Tholinnas to write a missive to the sons of Elrond.”

“Thank you Oropher.” There was a hesitant pause before the Elvenking continued, “there is one more letter you will need to send to Ithilien. To your brother.”

Thranduil halted his step and stared at his son intensely.

“Write to Aradol, tell him what has happened and make clear that under no circumstance is he to come here until further notice. Is that clear?”

“Yes, but Father … he will wish to see her.”

“I know, but considering what happened … it might prove too much right now for your mother. Tell Aradol to be patient.”

“It will be done.”

They resumed their walk and, before long, they arrived to the doors to Thranduil’s quarters. Oropher opened them and walked with his father inside. He helped his father change to more comfortable clothing and, after making sure Thranduil would be well on his own, he made for the door. Just as he was reaching it, he heard his father’s voice.

“Regardless of the difficulties … Today is a good day.”

Oropher simply smiled. Indeed, it was.

*

Idhreniel didn’t see Thranduil for over two weeks. She inquired of him to their son, but Oropher never gave her a straight answer. She felt confused and hurt. She longed to go searching for him, but every time she was determined to leave her chambers, the fear of what she might encounter outside her refuge proved to be too intimidating.

She was beginning to despair when one evening a green-eyed elleth knocked at her door with a pile of books and letters. She explained that her name was Annael and that she was a family friend. The Queen allowed her to enter and she felt immediately drawn to the tender friendship that Annael offered her. Every morning Annael would come to her chambers and would sew or read, as the Queen studied. She was there, Annael said, to help her in case questions arose. Idhreniel suspected that Oropher had sent her to keep her company while he was attending to his duties, but Idhreniel didn’t complain. Reading had always been a weakness of hers and Annael seemed to guess rightly the type of books the Queen would enjoy the most.

One late afternoon, after Annael had left, Idhreniel found herself immersed in a world unknown to her called Mirkwood. She had strewn some silky pillows on the ground, close to the double doors which were completely opened into a small private garden. The warm summer breeze felt delightful on her face and in that makeshift bed, she laid and detached herself from the fragility of her current reality.

She barely heard the sound of the main door opening, but she noted her heartbeat increasing and a gentle pull on her senses that distracted her from her reading: the signal that someone loved was approaching. Without even thinking, she knew who it was and exclaimed,

“Three thousand years … there is so much to read and learn!” There was a slight pause, but she didn’t pry her eyes away from the parchment she was holding. “Yet I confess, I would rather be learning about my husband than about the deeds of others.”

Thranduil stood a few paces away from her. He didn’t miss her tone. There was chastisement and disappointment in her words. He observed her for a long moment before he faced her. She had always been an avid reader and the sight of her sprawled on the floor hit him with more force than he wished to admit to himself. She was lying on her stomach and clad in a wispy blue gown. Her legs were folded and her bare feet moved playfully in the air. Her abundant blonde locks covered her back and glowed like gold in the light of the setting sun. He had forgotten how beautiful she was.

He walked to her side and readied himself to confront the consequences of his silence and disappearance. He took a seat on a pillow close by and Idhreniel raised her gaze. When she saw his face, she gasped and dropped the book.

“What has happened? Have you been ill? Oropher told me you were indisposed, but I did not think it to be true … I am so sorry! I have been a fool to think you were avoiding me!”

Thranduil shook his head and was slightly embarrassed when his wife rose and crawled to him, only to kneel right in front of him. She framed his face with her hands and scrutinized him with concern. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin was pale and pasty. He seemed to have lost some weight as well.

“It appears I am not the only one who suffers from nightmares of years past,” she whispered.

There was a sad smile on Thranduil’s lips, and he took her hand between his.

“Do not believe I am not glad that you are here,” he said. “My heart feels like it is going to burst when I think that you have been returned. But you are so different, yet so alike to who you used to be … it confuses me and it sends my mind and heart reeling to the point I do not know how I should feel or what I should do.”

Idhreniel nodded in sympathy. She knew all too well what he was going through. She intertwined her fingers with his and her thumb played with the many jeweled rings that adorned his hands. After a moment of thought, she said,

“Are we then condemned to this uncertainty?”

A hopeful smile drew itself in Thranduil’s lips and he shook his head.

“I do not think we are,” he said. “Perhaps all that we need is a little patience.”

*

The months passed and Idhreniel slowly remembered. Some days she made more progress than others, but she felt that her journey to a full recovery of her life was but just beginning. Autumn came and went and then Winter passed with its heavy snows and dark nights. Thranduil moved into their chambers, but didn’t share the same bed with her. He rested in one of the rooms adjacent to hers, his door always open and ready to receive her in case she was in need of anything. But Idhreniel slept alone. During the day she would spend time with her husband and with Annael who continued guiding her patiently through books and the knowledge of three thousand years past.

Spring arrived. It had been one year since her rebirth and Idhreniel found herself wondering when she would be able to lead a normal life; the life she saw in her dreams, the life she yearned to reach but couldn’t have just yet.

One morning Annael knocked at her door to accompany her outside. Idhreniel had become more adventurous on her outings in the Palace and their daily walks and activities took them all over the grounds. Idhreniel was still weary of encountering elves that would trigger even more memories, but her love of the outdoors eventually won. With Annael by her side and hooded, both elves headed for one of the fruit gardens. The berries were ripe to be picked, Annael had told her.

Idhreniel followed the elleth through the halls until they reached a wooden door that opened into a short tunnel. They glided quickly on the stone floor and then they stepped out in the gardens. The trees and grape vines were beginning to show the first signs of fruit, but the bushes were burdened under the weight of the many ripe berries ready to be picked.

Idrheniel uncovered herself and toyed with the basket. This was one area of the grounds she was not familiar with and she stared around nervously, wondering if this place would bring her anything to remember.

“Look at all those berries!” Annael said as she made for the nearest bush.

Idhreniel followed closely and smiled when Annael presented her with a couple of them. They were round and dark burgundy. She put one in her mouth. When she chewed on it, the sensation was like a burst of bittersweet flavor that flooded her senses. The woody, syrupy taste traveled down her throat and filled her nostrils. There was something about the taste … something familiar and calming and full of cherished moments.

Annael kept on picking berries and placing them carefully in her basket. Idhreniel put another in her mouth and this time there was no mistake. The taste awoke something deep within her. She stayed motionless, still chewing on the fruit, and suddenly said,

“Annael, take me to the kitchens!”

“To the kitchens?”

“Yes, we are going to bake a pie!”

*

Annael watched in rapture. She loved to cook, but it was clear that Idhreniel thought of baking as pure art. She could not believe that until now the Queen had not visited the kitchens. Idhreniel’s hands expertly kneaded and worked the ingredients to make the flaky pastry. She was mixing spices Annael had never thought of putting together and the smell of the cooked berries mixed with a snip of mint and honey was filling the kitchen deliciously. Some of the cooks were there, watching from a distance as entranced as Annael was, while others were heating the rock oven outside in preparation for the baking.

Idhreniel was covered in flour to her elbows and even though her hair was tied in a single braid, some of the front strands kept getting loose. The Queen simply put them back with the help on her wrist, getting some flour on her reddened cheeks. Annael wished Thranduil could’ve been there to see her. The fear that usually loomed in her eyes was replaced with glee and pure excitement. She truly looked like she was living the moment, not lost in recollections of long ago.

The Queen worked now on the lattice that would cover the pie and Annael marveled again. It was intricate and made with the thinnest pieces of pastry. When she finished, the pie was a delicate masterpiece. Idhreniel stared at Annael with a contented look in her face. Together, they went outside to the oven and waited.

*

Idhreniel walked into Thranduil’s private offices without knocking. There were two messengers, one scribe, one scout, and Oropher present as well. Everyone stood and stared at her mystified. Idhreniel was used to the sudden silences that her presence seemed to generate in everyone. This time, however, it didn’t bother her. She was carrying a white porcelain plate proudly, as if it were the most amazing treasure. On the plate, there was one single, perfect piece of berry pie topped with thick cream. The sweet smell filled the room. She placed the plate in front of Thranduil and produced a fork and a napkin from the pocket of her apron. Thranduil stared at the piece of pie and shook his head. For a moment Idhreniel thought he might be upset that she had interrupted the meeting, but then she saw the smile crossing his face, and she knew that she had assumed correctly. This berry pie was her husband’s favorite, an old recipe that only Idhreniel knew.

“It cannot be,” Thranduil said as he sat down and took the fork.

“Apparently, I can cook!” Idhreniel replied happily.

She watched as her husband took the first bite almost reverently. His eyes closed and the most wonderful expression of bliss appeared on his face. In no time, the rest of the piece of pie had disappeared. He was still munching on the last bite, when he asked her with his mouth full,

“Where is the rest?”

Idhreniel laughed and surprised even herself. Not since coming to the Palace had she felt so completely happy. Beaming, she explained,

“The rest is in the kitchens and I believe the cooks are preparing a meal for us as well. Would you join me for the rest of the day?”

Thranduil stood, chuckling, and looked at the rest of the occupants of the room. Before he could say anything, Oropher rose from his chair and walked to the head of the table where his father had been sitting.

“I will conduct the rest of the meeting, Father.”

Much to Oropher’s surprise, Thranduil didn’t object. Instead he turned to his wife and playfully rubbed away some flour from her nose. He took her hand in his and said,

“What are we waiting for?”

Before they reached the door, Oropher called,

“Naneth?”

Idhreniel turned to look at her son and smiled widely,

“Not to worry, I saved a piece for you … I promise I will not let him eat it!”

*

The day had proven to be absolutely delightful. They went on a horse ride into the forest and ate in a secluded glade. They talked incessantly for the whole time, like they had not in the past months. Nighttime found them perched high on a tree branch, staring at the many stars shining in the sky. Thranduil laid down on the thick wood with Idhreniel close by his side. He groaned and rubbed his stomach as he said,

“I think I ate too much of that pie.”

Idhreniel laughed. Her hand replaced his on his belly and she pushed in a little. Thranduil groaned louder and said,

“If you keep pushing like that the berries will come out of my mouth …”

Another bubble of laughter escaped her lips and Thranduil stared mesmerized this time. Her hand still rested on his stomach and through the silk of his shirt he could feel the warmth of her touch. The sensation caught him off guard. He felt a stirring inside him that it was nothing like he had felt in many years. He enjoyed the unexpected pleasure for a blissful moment. Her hand moved again and he couldn’t help squirming in instinct at the graze of her touch.

Idhreniel raised an eyebrow and stared at him quizzically. In a solemn voice, she said,

“Your Royal Highness . . . are you ticklish?”

Before he replied, she had straddled his waist and her fingers were moving quickly along his sides. He couldn’t help the laughter that escaped his lips. In that moment he felt absolutely free of all burden. He tried to rid himself of her, but she had him effectively pinned against the branch. Her hands moved too quickly across his chest and sides for him to grab them and he submitted himself to the torture of her fingers, feeling absolutely comfortable with the type of touch he had not felt in many years.

There was but a moment of hesitancy on her part and Thranduil seized the opportunity to grab her wrists and successfully quiet her hands. He pulled her towards him, until her face was but inches away from him. He realized a moment too late that the silly game they had been playing had taken a very serious turn.

Idhreniel’s laughter died and she stared at him with wide eyes. The night stood still in that single moment and the only sound they could hear was that one of their own hearts beating. He released her wrists and moved until he was sitting with Idhreniel still straddling his lap. His hands sought her waist and he encircled her with his arms almost hesitantly, wondering if he was going too far. But the strange glint he saw in her eyes told him that she was as eager as he was to be closer to one another.

His hands moved from her waist, traveling up her back. Her body was willowy, almost delicate, but he knew the strength that was hidden under the frail appearance. When he reached her neck, he lovingly took in his fingers a loose strand of hair from her thick braid, as silky and soft as he remembered, and glowing with a beautiful silver shine under the moonlight.

His right hand moved cautiously from her neck until he was touching her face. His fingers caressed her temple and then traveled down to follow the elegant line of her jaw. He traced her bottom lip with his thumb, mesmerized by the softness of it. Her scent was driving him mad and there was no doubt now of the type of feelings her nearness was awakening. To his dismay, he realized he felt as nervous as he had been when he had experienced their first kiss, as eager as he had been when he had lain for the first time with her … as incapable as he had felt the first time he had seen her in that training field, so many years ago.

His finger drew a breezy line from her lip to her chin, still unconvinced if he should proceed as his instincts told him to. But she angled her head, leaving him no doubts now of what she wished. Her lips were partially open, inviting him … he moved accordingly, until the silky skin was barely against him. She nodded, almost imperceptibly, giving him the permission he was waiting for.

Her hands that had been still until now moved to his shoulders, but she halted their path and she left them with her wrists resting tensely against him, expectant, waiting. He finally closed the remaining distance and felt her lips fully against his. There was no hesitation on her part. The silkiness of her touch enveloped him and their lips moved in unison; timidly, gently nibbling. Her hands resumed their path and her fingers entwined themselves in the strands of his hair, caressing him, enticing him closer to her. She suckled on his lower lip and he took the chance to kiss her this time fully, snaking his tongue inside her and almost bursting with joy when she returned the gesture eagerly. His arms embraced her possessively, bringing her as near to him as he could, and the kiss continued, slowly, sensually, gradually awakening and kindling their desire for one another.

Idhreniel felt like she would burn right there. She could not deny to herself the effect of her husband’s kiss. His lips were bold and the touch of his hands was leaving a trail of fire in her being. Several images were unchained; feelings and sensations that had not yet trickled back into her mind. In her thoughts, she could feel his weight on her, she could feel his power, the touch of his hands, the taste of his lips, but most of all, the ever binding force of their union.

Unable to cope with the fervent sensations her fëa and hroa were experiencing simultaneously, she shivered in his arms and he seemed to sense her sudden wavering. He took control of his emotions and the passion of his kiss dwindled. He separated himself from her, giving her one last kiss on her cheek. He then helped her move from his lap to sit by his side. They both knew it was enough for now. Idhreniel sighed with relief when Thranduil contented himself with putting his arm around her shoulders and embracing her against him. Her voice sounded small and hesitant when she said,

“I am sorry I cannot give you more.”

He kissed her forehead and then rested his cheek against her hair.

“Do not apologize. This is certainly new for me as well … It has been long and I would rather we do not rush.”

Idhreniel rested her head against his chest for a long time, listening to the steady, comforting beat of his heart. The stars became brighter in the heavens and Idhreniel lost herself in trails of starlight, finding some of the most cherished constellations she remembered. After a time, she straightened, but Thranduil didn’t let go of her. She stared directly into his eyes and asked the question that had been haunting her since she had awoken by the riverside.

“Thranduil, how did I die?”

Idhreniel saw his jaw tense and his eyes become full of sorrow and regret. She felt his embrace tighten around her protectively, bringing her close to him again.

“An unfortunate accident,” was all he said.

*

Gwedinaeth: literally, to bind sorrow. The procedure Thranduil and Master Tholinnas talk about is not canon but of my own invention.

Adar: Father