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A liaison in the Great Greenwood	By : Azukiel Category: +Third Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 7953 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any copyright to the Tolkien/ Middle-Earth fandom, nor to any of his canon characters or languages. I do not make any money from this fanfiction. Original characters however, are my property.

Chapter List
- 26
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For what seemed like an age Adlanniel and Thranduil lay together within each other’s warm embrace, staring out the doors of the balcony as the sun continued to make its ascent over the peaks of the Greenwood mountains. The sun set such an auburn glow over the dense canopies of the trees, they already beginning to redden from the onset of Autumn, that they seemed to have been set ablaze.

Both elves were deep in their own thoughts, contemplating the words shared between them earlier that morning. They almost felt numb to it, for the dark truth struck their hearts deeply; that they would have to end it, end what they had between them. Perhaps in another life, another world, they could have been together without restriction, without having to hide. Perhaps they could have been husband and wife?

Yet they did not love each other to that extent. Regardless, there was a bond there that was strong and unwavering like the winds of a fierce storm. No force of nature would be able to break or repel it; like a storm it would have to taper off on its own. It would take such a great amount of willpower for them to allow it to dwindle and yet would they be able to bring themselves to do so?

Perhaps with Legolas’ return, Adlanniel could set her focus and affection once more unto him and forget entirely the affair that had been between her and the Elvenking. The Elvenking himself, being as old as he was and having already experienced so much loss in his long life could perhaps pass it off as just another sombre milestone amongst many. Yet each painful experience, especially those of the heart, those of love and adoration which were lost, ate away at him. After being denied Celebrían and then losing his wife so tragically how would he fair losing yet another elleth that he cared deeply for? And she was just like her mother in every way yet even more divine! Her mother, Celebrían, the maiden that he had loved with every ounce of his soul and being. So much so that the love he held for his own wife took many centuries to completely overshadow that of the first.

Yet now…now that his wife had passed into the halls of Mandos, leaving him alone and wanting, how could he resist feeling what he had first felt all those years ago in Lindon with the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn? Especially now when her image, her own celestial daughter, was there under his roof! Still, the love he felt for Adlanniel was somewhat different. He was a paternal figure to her, yet he was also her friend and her lover, her sanity and her insanity. But there was a love there between them, a love that neither of them could fully comprehend, a love that was like an illness; an illness that perhaps had no viable cure.

He embraced her tighter yet more tenderly as he felt her begin to shiver, not from the chill hanging on the air but from the sobs that continued to wrack her.

“Av'osto.” He soothed her as he gently stroked her soft skin with his fingers. He felt such an empathy for her and such a sorrow within himself he too felt that he could weep, yet the elleth before him wept enough for them both. “But I do…” She replied in an almost whisper.

“I fear that I will continue to want you, to need you even when Legolas returns. I do not know if I will be able to restrain myself.”

Thranduil gave a long doleful sigh. He understood her sentiment completely for he too wondered if it would be so easy to just stop what they had between them. Neither of them wanted it to end, yet both wished that it would or perhaps wished that circumstances were different or that it had never occurred in the first place.

“Then I shall have you both sent to your home in Imladris, away from here and thus you away from temptation.” Thranduil answered her, yet with a slight hint of reluctance in his voice. Adlanniel looked up to him then, her eyes begging. Though she knew that what he had said would be the easiest solution, and indeed she missed and loved her home, could she bear leaving the Greenwood to which she had fallen in love with? Could she bear leaving her Elvenking and denying him of his second child?

“Will not my father become suspicious if Legolas and I suddenly decide to live there when it is custom for the wife to live in her husband’s abode?” She questioned Thranduil then, hoping to dissuade him from his

previous declaration.

“You can simply say that you prefer the scenery there. Besides, how are we to know that your father has not already foreseen what we are doing?” He pushed.

Adlanniel felt another knot form in her stomach, the king had a point, a point that had completely slipped her mind. Yet even if the wise Lord Elrond had foreseen it, would he not have stopped his daughter from going to the Greenwood in the first place? If he foresaw it after she arrived in the Woodland realm surely he would have made his knowledge well known to the both of them.

These points Adlanniel made clear to Thranduil and he sighed slightly exasperated, he of course did not want to send his family away yet what else could he do to break away from her, or more so her break away from him?

“Do we really have to end this so abruptly?” She questioned as tears filled her eyes again.

“When Legolas returns then of course we must, but for the meantime…”

Thranduil thought upon it for but a moment. He too felt her sentiments “As much as every ounce of my conscience tells me that we should simply end and walk away…” He began, gazing down at her shimmering emerald eyes.

“If we do that it shall definitely tear us apart.”

Adlanniel gave a glad smile that he agreed with her sentiments.

“However…” The king said sternly, emphasising the word, “we must slow things down….eventually.” He added the last word with slight reluctance in his voice.

“I only hope that we can….” Adlanniel added solemnly.

“Perhaps we can’t Adlanniel…but we have to. For our child’s sake and for Legolas and his child that you also bear….and for you as well.”

“And for you….” She added, her voice low then.

“Do not concern yourself with me.” He replied simply and with a somewhat feigned confidence.

Adlanniel, frowning at him as she snuggled closer to his body, said from her heart, “Of course I fret for you. You may be the Elvenking, but no king is unbreakable.”

“And no king should pretend to be…” Came his honest reply.

Alas, they were not given much longer to be together in his chambers for the palace began to awaken and bustle.

Adlanniel clung to the king’s body, afraid of leaving, afraid of what the future held.

“Lasto nin, Adlanniel…” Thranduil began gently as he looked back down to her with his cerulean eyes.

“Avo drasto. Ratho an glass.”

“Right now I can only find happiness when I am in your presence.” She replied solemnly.

Sighing softly, the king planted a soft kiss upon the crown of her head. “You should make your leave and return to your chambers now Adlanniel…” He began.

“I will seek you out before the afternoon meal, I promise you that.” And with those final words he leant down to her to kiss her deeply and with intent.

“You better…” She ordered, her demeanour having become more cheerful as she stood to collect her clothing that had been thrown over the sofa by the king’s bed.

“Oh I will.” He replied, allowing a sly grin to cross his face as he came up behind her to plant soft feathery kisses upon her still bare shoulder.

“You can ponder about what position you wish me to have you in next.” With that he gave her a quick, playful slap across her backside to which she yelped and jumped nearly out of her skin.

She began giggling coyly at him, and he grinned at her girlishness.

“N'uir thiad gîn ‘ell Adlanniel…” He began fondly, not wanting her to leave but knowing that she had to. “But you best be on your way now.”

“You will find me later in the day?” She affirmed to which the king nodded.

“Gwestodh?” She pushed playfully, tracing her lithe fingers down his muscular torso. He laughed at her softly before he took up her hands to kiss them.

“Of course, now off you go. Watch the halls for guards.” He warned her.

As usual she had no troubles taking the hidden passages back to her own chambers, for by then she knew well the guard’s usual patrol routes at all times of the day.

As per her usual routine now that she had become the king’s pet, she bathed and dressed herself before her maiden Gwendalyn arrived. After the young maid had helped Adlanniel braid her hair and had sat with her a while to chat as women do, she went off again to do her other duties, excited at the news that Adlanniel had parted to her; that she was pregnant with twins.

Adlanniel too felt a contentment within herself as she lay back against the pillows of her own bed, rubbing her stomach gently as she did so. Though she still felt the stinging guilt from within, she was proud that she could bear the royal family of the Greenwood not one, but two heirs. Regardless of who their respective fathers were, they would be her children - their children - and would bring the entire realm much needed joy and innocence.

After she had eaten her morning meal she allowed herself once more to drift off into sleep for she felt unnaturally tired that day.

As her mind became heavy and clouded with sleep she swept into the realm of dream. But the dream she was to encounter was not one of pleasantness. No, it was foreboding, much like the past dream she had had but had not been able to recall. Though this dream, or nightmare if it could have been called that, was so vivid and real that it would be impossible for her to forget it.

It was a cold evening and there she was sitting by the water’s edge of the forest river, heavy with child. On the opposite bank stood both the Elvenking and the prince together in regal glory. Yet they were still, their eyes burning into her as they stared at her from the other side of the river. Suddenly she felt a great pain in her lower abdomen, and when she had looked down to herself from the twoellon across the river, she saw that she was covered in bright red blood. So much was it flowing from her, that it ran along the crevices of the rocks she was sitting on and into the white washed waters of the river itself, turning the water into an eerie crimson hue. Her hands too were drenched with the blood as she stared at them mortified. She had tried to scream but nothing came from her mouth. Yet she wailed as the blood continued to surround her in a bright red pool. Looking up to where the two ellon had stood, only Thranduil remained. He too was covered in blood, and his eyes were cold and emotionless. Though no sound escaped his lips, she could hear his voice.

“Echuio, Adlanniel…” He had said. “Echuio!”

His voice continued to repeat it as she felt her body begin to fall; fall unto darkness.

Her heart felt that it would lunge itself out of her chest it was beating so ferociously as she awoke in a cold sweat. Her body was shivering as she was breathing heavily, her chest feeling as if it had been weighted down.

She had not realised that someone was knocking at her door. Composing herself she was met by a young messenger who, handing her the letter he had been holding, swept off down the halls as quickly as he had arrived. He appeared to be in a hurry and so she did not call out to question him but went back into her room, closing her door behind her quietly, the lingering memory of the dream still floating in her mind. She almost paid no heed to the letter she now held as contemplated what the dream meant. Would something dreadful happen to her? To the two faë growing in her womb? Why had Legolas disappeared from the dream? Would some cruel fate befall him? Why was the king covered in blood? Her blood?

Again her hands began to shake, her whole being now filled with a horrible sense of dread. He hands were shaking enough for her to drop the letter to the floor. It was then that she took notice of the light brown parchment, it having fallen face down to reveal the forest green wax of the stamp that sealed it closed. It took a moment for her eyes to focus upon the insignia stamped into the wax, but it was unmistakeable…it was from her prince. Immediately shaking all foul thoughts and memories of the nightmare from her troubled mind, she picked up the parchment and traced her fingers over the prince’s seal. She felt almost numb as she stared down at it, thoughts of her relationship with him and now with his father and the thoughts of her bearing both of their children conflicting throughout her mind. So many thoughts troubled her, yet she had been the one to have caused many of them. She knew she was the one at fault and it brought that great wave of guilt over her once more. Disallowing the tears that were forming in her eyes to fall, she carefully opened to parchment to read the letter the prince had obviously sent directly to her.

As usual, his writing in their native Sindarin was beautiful and flowed on the parchment like reeds in the wind. Yet this time though his handwriting seemed somewhat tired and thus not as immaculate as he usually wrote.

His words pulled tightly at her heart as she read, for this recent correspondence was ever more heartfelt than the last. Though fine in strength and health, he was becoming ever more tired and weary of battle. He missed the peace and beauty of the Greenwood, and he missed her celestial presence as he had put it, detailing how he wished everyday the he could wake up from this nightmare and be in her forever loving arms.

War did not bring glory nor honour as he had previously thought when he had begged his father to allow him to lead the army. He had known that it would not be all gallantry and valour, but he never imagined how gruesome it would be despite hearing horrific stories of old that his father had told him many times in the past. The screams of the dying, the images of their hacked and mutilated bodies, the molten red and raven black blood that turned the ground into slush all haunted him at night whilst he slept alone in his tent. Despite both Haldir and Glorfindel assuring him that it would get easier to cope with in time, he simply felt a constant never ending dread weigh at his heart. He contemplated whether or not he was weaker than he had thought, yet despite it all he continued to remember his love for her, that he was fighting to keep Arda from evil, an evil that could and would destroy everything he loved and held dear if allowed to spread. Adlanniel knew that Legolas was a formidable and brave warrior, and that fighting in and leading in his first true war perhaps unnerved him at time and brought about times of weakness. War could do that to anybody….she knew that well enough. She too had heard many stories of battles and times of weakness and despair from her own father and even from the great Golden Warrior himself. Yet what she was to read next greatly disturbed her.

Legolas detailed that for what seemed like endless days and nights, they had fought and pushed back forces of orcs and goblins back as far south as the battle plains of old in Dagorlad, trapping the dark forces between their own legions and the Dead Marshes. No living creature, whether orc, goblin, elf or man would dare to venture into the Dead Marshes. Thus both forces clashed in a savage battle, trying desperately to avoid the tormented and vengeful spirits that lingered there. Yet the majority of spirits that lingered there were of Legolas’ own kin who had been slaughtered mercilessly during the Battle of Dagorlad when the great War of the Last Alliance had raged Middle-Earth. Despite this, many of the spirits had risen from the stinking pits where Legolas and his forces had been fighting on its outskirts, and venturing out of their own territory took into their clasps many of the living - regardless of race or alliance. And thus Legolas and his remaining legions of men and elves retreated with all haste back north to the relevant safety of the Greenwood where they made camp in the East Bight, the remnants of their enemies being dragged into the depths of the marshes by the vengeful souls of the dead. From that time, Legolas had written, not a single orc or foul creature attacked them for many days which allowed his forces to regroup and the injured to be healed. Yet that skirmish on the fringes of the Dead Marshes had unnerved him. Seeing the spirits of his fallen and tormented kin attack both sides mercilessly broke his heart for he knew that nothing could ever bring them peace and nothing could ever allow them to rest.

Though they were successful in beating back the orcs once and for all, it came at a high price for now many of their soldiers now lay in the hell of the marshes.

However that of course was not the end, he wrote, for after the days of rest came word from their scouts that the armies of Easterlings were now on the march westward towards them.

The Easterlings had amassed an army now larger than their own and had not only trolls in their employ, but giant and equally dreaded oliphants as well. Legolas’ fears had indeed come true; the tables would turn if not sent substantial reinforcements and aid. And so, Legolas had sent calls for aid far across the lands to the other elven realms and dominions of men, hoping that they could continue their alliance in thwarting the darkness.

This would mean that Thranduil would undoubtedly go to his son’s aid personally.

It was hard enough to have Legolas leave her, but now Thranduil as well? The thought of them both being away at war filled her heart with such a terrible dread the breath from her lungs seemed to be choked from her.

What if they were both to fall? She had thought in despair. What would happen to the Woodland realm? Would one of her children be named as the next heir? Yet who would be regent whilst they came of age?

How could she possibly live without her prince and her king? The thought frightened her beyond measure. Yet perhaps they did not need to be separated, she then thought to herself. What if she were to travel with the reinforcements to the camp and stay there? Perhaps she could work in the healing tents, for healing was her true calling after all. Surely her skills would be much needed there now? Thus she came to the ultimate conclusion that she would consult with the king personally.

There he was, as she had expected, amidst his remaining military commanders, counsellors and emissaries in the vast space of the throne room.

She watched secretly from behind one of the great pillars as they were bent over a table, studying a large map, their faces in a stern concentration. Thranduil, though he could sense her presence, was too occupied within his own worries and thoughts to acknowledge it.

“When can the remainder of the army be armed and ready to march?” He asked the highest ranking commander amongst their group.

“It will take about two full days your majesty, perhaps more seeing we need to ready the reinforcements and supplies…”

“Make it less commander.” The king ordered him sternly.

“The Easterlings will reach camp by weeks end. It will take us a day and night to reach the East Bight. We must arrive there in all haste and regroup our forces.”

“Of course, my king.” And making his leave the commander went off in haste with the other captains and military personnel. Once the throne room had finally been cleared, Thranduil looked back down to the parchment he had been holding in his hand, the parchment sent to him from his son desperately seeking aid. His heart was full of dread and worry for his only child. Had it been such a good decision to have sent him alone to command an entire army on his own? Indeed Legolas had The Golden Warrior and the March Warden of Lorien guiding him, two highly experienced elves with whom Thranduil knew would teach his son well and protect him, yet his paternal instincts were urging him to go there and take his son back under his protective wing. But at the same time could he face his son after he had done to him? It made him feel such a guilt he felt angered with himself for allowing it to have occurred in the first place, yet regardless of what he felt then it had occurred and it could not be simply erased. Disregarding that fact, he still needed to be with his son, to protect him from harm and to bring him and his men home. That was his sole concern.

“Hir vuin?” Came a soft voice from nearby as he had began pacing the room in deep and troubled thought. It had completely slipped his mind that his young lover had been in the room, listening to all that had happened.

Though her sudden presence did not bring him any relief from his troubled thoughts; instead sought to deepen them.

“Didn’t your father teach you not to eavesdrop?” He asked her sternly, frowning at her as he did.

Adlanniel, taken a little aback by his sudden soured demeanour, lowered her eyes in respect and remorse.

“Forgive me, aran vuin…I had not intended to.” She replied cautiously.

“But the prince too has sent me a letter. And he detailed to me all that has befallen them, and that they need aid as the men of Rhûn are on the march with an amassed army armed with the great beasts of the East…”

She gazed up to the king’s sullen eyes then, their brilliant cerulean hue having turned to one of a brooding grey.

“And so I assumed that you, our great Elvenking, would personally lead the remainder of your forces to his aid…”

“You assumed correctly…” Thranduil replied, his steely gaze locking on to hers, warning her not to attempt to argue the matter with him like she had his son more than a month past.

She shrunk back slightly from his cold gaze, it surprising her for he had never been so cold towards her.

“W…what will happen to me?” She asked, trying to keep a face of bravery. The king’s cold eyes upon her were frightening.

“You will stay here of course and await for our return. Or if it pleases you, you may return to the realm of your grandparents in Lorien or return to your home in Imladris.” Without even waiting for her to reply he turned from her and walked back to the large table with the map sprawled upon it. Adlanniel felt hurt that he would dismiss her so easily and speak to her in such a cold tone, especially considering what had occurred between them that same morning.

“What if I do not wish to be left alone?” She pushed him, though tentatively.

He laughed at her ironically then, making her feel even more hurt. “And what authority do you have on the matter?” He questioned her. “I gave you three choices. Choose one.” He then said coolly as he looked back down to the map.

“And if I do not agree with any of them?” She stubbornly tried to push his command, her cheeks flushing hot with anger.

Thranduil rose his eyes slowly to meet hers, and such a forbidding and austere glare was within them Adlanniel felt her heart lose a beat.

“You would dare defy me, Adlanniel?” His voice too was so severe and cold it frightened her then.

“I am frightened of what the future holds if you are both to leave me…” Her voice became choked. Her words softened his hardened demeanour and he felt for her. Sighing, he walked over to where she stood and gently stroked her soft, pale cheek with his hand to reassure her.

“It is my duty as king to go to the aid of my son.” He begun seriously as he held her chin up with his hand so that he could look into her saddened eyes.

“He is my son, and until you give birth…” He lowered his voice so that she could only hear. “Legolas is my only child. It is not only my duty as king, but my duty as a father to go to him when he requests my aid.”

“Despite what we have done to him…yes, we have really kept our duties as father and fiance.” Adlanniel spat sarcastically in spite, her stubbornness already haven taken reign over her. Her words bit into Thranduil like the fangs of a viper as he stared back at her almost numb. Yet his eyes became cold once more and he let go of her face almost harshly.

“Watch your tongue Adlanniel!” Thranduil snapped at her in an angered warning. “He is still my son, and I will always love him as such! Do not make me feel any more guilty than I already do!”

The almost helpless look that was hidden deep in his foreboding glare broke her heart. Why did she say such cruel words to him? She was just as much at fault in that regard and felt as much guilt.

“Díheno nin, aran vuin.” She lowered her eyes as they began to fill with burning tears once more. “I overstepped my boundaries.”

“Indeed.” He replied almost unforgiving, her words had stung him rather deeply.

“Despite what we may have between us…” He lowered his voice once more. “I am the king of this realm. If you dare speak to me in such a manner again I will not be so forgiving.”

She gulped at his words and nodded.

“Now you will do as you are told, or I will send you to your father and have him deal with your insolence for I assure you my lady, you do not wish me to do so!”

She shrank back slightly, for she had heard well tales of the Elvenking’s wrath. Legolas had detailed to her many stories of when he had met his father’s ire during his stubborn adolescence. Though her own father could be rather harsh when irked, he was tame in comparison to the great Elvenking Thranduil.

“Díheno nin…” She repeated, her voice almost choked with tears once more.

Despite the fear he had instilled into her then, he felt little remorse for her as he usually would have. She had pinched a rather delicate nerve in his being, wounding his pride; something that he held onto rather fiercely.

“Now have I made myself clear Adlanniel?” His voice was strict and harsh and it made her shrink back ever more so.

“Will you at least allow me to come with you?” She asked in a last ditch attempt to not be left alone. Thranduil scowled at her then, furious that she had the gall to continue pushing him.

“Ci ben-ind?” His questioned her coldly, his voice risen in anger and frustration with her. Her eyes widened in surprise and shock, she did not think that the king would be this mad or cruel to her.

“Do you really think I would allow you, an elleth and one with child at that, into a war camp? Have you no idea how dangerous it would be for you there? Are you really that daft?” His tone and the burning in his eyes stung her so painfully she could not help but stand there and weep like a child being shouted at by an angered parent.

She knew that what she had asked was impossible and somewhat absurd on her part, but she was desperate to not be left alone without the two ellon she loved so dearly. She also knew that if she went with the army to the camp it would give her perhaps her only chance to see her beloved prince. She wanted so dearly to tell him personally of the news that she was with his child, or children in the present situation….

Why the king was being so harsh and aggravated at her, she could not understand then. Where had the soft and gentle, yet regal and dominating elf she had known gone off to? In her opinion, with his current behaviour he could have given the ancient evil Melkor a run for his gold.

Yet why he was so infuriated with her, he too could not completely comprehend at that time. She had simply triggered something that had been hiding within him for some time….

“I thought that I could use my talents as a healer to help the wounded….so I wouldn’t be completely useless…” She tried to defend her suggestion.

Though he knew very well that her talents would indeed be useful, how could he risk her life, the life of his unborn child? Yet deep within him he also felt the ugly sting of jealousy…..But jealous of what? Surely he could not feel jealous of the fact that he knew that she too wanted to see her true love. All of his emotions mixed inside of him like such a tangled web it only sought to agitate him further for he could not comprehend them…something he hated - not being able to understand or control his emotions and feelings.

“It is out of the question Adlanniel!” He barked at her. “I will not hear another word of it!”

His words too suddenly fuelled her inner rage, and without thinking of any consequences she hissed back at him, “Mibo orch!”

His eyes widened and his fists clenched in anger, appalled that she would show such disrespect towards him and utter disregard for her place. He would never lay a hand on an elleth in fury, for whatever the reason, yet the infuriation within that she made him feel then took all of his will power to control. If his senses had come any later he was sure he would have struck her. Not wanting to hear any more from her, nor wanting to do anything regretful, he took her firmly by one of her arms and dragged her towards the entrance to the throne room.

“Nîdh!” She protested at his harsh grip on her. Yet it was useless to struggle for he was much more powerful. He did not heed her voice as he dragged her to the two tall guards that stood near the entrance way.

“Take her back to her chambers.” He ordered them. The guards themselves looked suddenly shaken by their usually benevolent king’s sudden demeanour. They looked at each other, somewhat unsure of themselves, yet took the young elleth out of fear that they too would suffer the king’s fury.

“She is not to leave it without my consent. Is that clear?”

“Yes, my king.” The higher ranked of the two replied, keeping a firm grip on Adlanniel’s arm, though not nearly as harsh as what the king’s had been.

“Do not try to struggle, my lady.” The younger one whispered to her as they turned her to lead her away.

“I do not plan to.” She sobbed angrily, turning her head to look back as they made their way down the hall. But the king was already gone, and it hurt her immensely.

Thranduil re-entered the throne room, still furious that Adlanniel had dared to defy him and more than once for that matter. Why could she not understand? Why did she have to always argue? Why was she so stubborn!? All of these questions amongst many more swirled through his mind like a raging hurricane. Banging his clenched fist hard onto the mahogany table in the centre of the room he breathed heavily, trying desperately to reign in his anger, which after a moment when his senses had regained control, he was surprised with himself. He could not remember a time like then where had been so infuriated with anelleth. Indeed, he had had the odd spat with his own wife, and even with his first love, Adlanniel’s mother, yet he had never felt that mad at an elleth before. And yet Adlanniel’s intentions had been rather innocent…Why did he feel so ill tempered towards her?

Was it due to her wanting to risk her own life and those of her unborn children just to be together with the ellon she loved as she had said? Or was it because his mind was fearful towards his own son? Had it been the words she had said to him that had stung him deeply? Or perhaps he was jealous….that she would obviously go to Legolas if she were to go to the camp…Yet it could not be jealousy could it? He did not love her in that way and she was not his. Though now that she had his seed growing within her, as well as that of his son, he felt something new for her….but what in the names of the Valar was it?

Sighing, rather frustrated with himself and still smarting from the previous events, he slinked himself over to his giant oaken throne and slumped down into it.

He owed her an apology, a very earnest apology.

Yet would she accept it? Perhaps her wrath was as cold and as harsh as his and it made him then fear her. Yet, in his honour he would apologise to her and hope to Eru that she would accept it.

None hath known the fury of an elleth scorned….

Elvish - English

Av'osto = do not fear

Lasto nin, Adlanniel. Avo drasto. Ratho an glass. = Listen to me Adlanniel. Do not worry yourself now. Just try to be happy.

N'uir thiad gîn 'ell Adlanniel = Ever is your presence a joy Adlanniel.

Gwestodh? = Do you promise?

Echuio, Adlanniel = Awaken, Adlanniel

faë = spirits (can also refer to unborn children)

Hir vuin= My lord

aran vuin = beloved king

Díheno nin = Forgive me (reverential)

Ci ben-ind = Are you without logic?

Mibo orch! = Kiss an orc!

Nîdh! = You’re hurting me!

elleth = Elf maiden (female)

ellon = Elf male
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A liaison in the Great Greenwood