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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
- 38
- 39
- 40
Almost a week had passed since Adlanniel had arrived at the camp. Her presence there was now well known amongst both elves and men. To most of the tired and wounded souls, she brought a renewed hope and light; an elven princess of her worth and heritage there to show them support and to heal them of their wounds. Yet her presence for a few brought a longing for home, for they missed their own loved ones and wanted nothing more than to return to them. She was treated with a gentle respect by those that came across her, yet those charged with guarding her made sure to keep her from participating in lengthy conversations with others. Perhaps it was to protect her from the stories and images of loss, death and pain, she did not know. But she was not afraid of it, and the Elvenking's continuation to uphold his restrictions of her frustrated her to no end.
Though she obeyed him, it was not without a form of contempt. She understood his standing, though she hated feeling like a useless burden. She wanted more time to converse with the king's weary soldiers so as to uplift them and and give them encouragement in these dark days. Alas, she was always taken away back to her confinement in the tent for her own 'safety', or so she was told.
At least her beloved ellyn came to visit her whenever they were able. Most days they were out on patrol, hunting for food, or fighting small skirmishes the Easterlings sent their way. But there was usually always one of them within proximity of the camp, following whatever duties their king gave yet always taking the time to share with her some company.
Now this day the king himself was behind at the camp, doing whatever it was that required his skills. Yet half the day had passed without a word or even a whisper. Adlanniel speculated that he was simply busy with his duties and thus preoccupied. Yet, at the same time, he had been giving her the cold shoulder ever since she had arrived. Along with the frustration that she felt due to his restrictions, she felt unnerved from his cold disregard of her. He barely even acknowledged her now, and treated her with a mild neglect, like a stray animal unwanted. She craved for any sort of recognition from her forbidden lover, even a small nod or smile would have sufficed. However, he would afford her nothing.
She was now suffering some undesirable effects of her pregnancy and had been told by her guards that morning that she could not leave the tent for anything except to relieve herself. They were direct orders from the Elvenking, her guardians had told her, and it annoyed her that Thranduil had not show her enough decency to come and tell her himself. He had not even come to check on her condition personally which irked her increasingly erratic emotions even more so. Yet, as she paced the tent now in frustration, she paused and took in a deep breath to calm her senses. "He is just busy. He will come eventually." She kept reminding herself as she mindlessly began to pace the length of the prince's tent once more.
She had already read all of the books and scrolls the guards had brought her to read, and she had already been out in the forest in previous days to replenish the herb stocks of the healers. Now she was there, pacing the tent, bored out of her mind. Slumping herself at the prince's writing desk, she began tapping her fingers upon the mahogany, the rapping of her nails becoming harder and harder until finally one cracked.
"Damn..." She mumbled as she looked down at her fingers. The crack went right down to the nail plate and thus needed to be cut. The writing desk was rather plain bar a couple of papers and writing implements. There were drawers beneath the desk itself, which slid open easily when she pulled at the iron handles. Yet the inside of the drawers were just as plain as the top of the desk besides a few more pieces of parchment and some spare ink pots and quills. However one parchment in particular caught her attention. It was folded neatly above all the others, yet one corner was slightly folded upwards to reveal the handwriting on the other side. That is where she was able to make out the first few letters of her name. She knew well enough not to pry, and sat for a long while, staring down at the parchment, debating on whether or not she should read its contents. Yet curiosity got the better of her and she took out the paper and unfolded it on the top of the desk.
The letter had remained unsigned, and so she wondered why it had gone unfinished. Perhaps due to her arrival it had remained in the desk drawer, forgotten.
Yet, as it was indeed addressed for her she decided to read it, and by the end her heart was filled with a great sorrow and pity. Had she really been so withdrawn and cold to have made her prince feel like she had not forgiven him? Had she been so engulfed in her lust for his father that she had made him feel shunned? It was obvious from his solemn words that he was suffering enough due to the harrowing effects of war. Yet despite his suffering he still put apologising to her as a priority which showed how deeply he cared for, and needed her. With her trembling hands she dropped the letter back onto the desk, hot tears of guilty agony burning at her cheeks. She had caused the burden of his heartache, and it would only continue to deepen for her desire for his father would not taper off, despite the Elvenking himself now ignoring her. Perhaps the king too was fighting with the conflicting feelings and emotions their desire for each other had conceived. Perhaps his recent disdain for her was his way of dealing with the situation. Was seeing her now with the prince again painful for him to witness? Perhaps he had heard them... Regardless, they were all suffering and she blamed herself for the majority of it.
She did not know how long she had cried into her arms for, but her eyes were red and swollen by the time she had found enough strength to stop. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she stood up hastily, almost knocking the chair over in the process. Steadying herself, she resolved that she had to speak to someone, anyone, for some kind of solace. The guards were kind enough, but far too serious and mechanical for her liking. She needed someone that she was close to and wished that she had allowed Gwendalyn to have come with her. Oh how she would have done anything to have had her young friend with her then. And thus, with her thoughts still muddled and bleak, she gathered herself to go to the only one within proximity that could comfort her.
"Hiril vuin, we have strict orders not to allow you to leave the tent today due to your condition." The eldest of the two guards said, his voice steadfast.
"My condition?" She replied flustered as she raised an eyebrow at him. "Since when did being with child become a condition?"
"Díheno nin, hiril vuin, I meant no offence by it. But we have our orders and they have been put in place for your health and well-being."
"My health and well-being?" She hissed. "How is being confined in a small tent with minimal sunlight good for my health and well-being?" She pushed.
"Orders are orders, hiril vuin." He retorted calmly.
Her face flushed hot with annoyance, and her breath hitched painfully in her throat. Giving a sigh of exasperation, she calmed herself.
"Please, my dear guardians. I only wish to speak with the king for a short while. Then I will gladly come back here and stay quiet. You will not hear from me again, I swear." Her voice was more calm and gentle now, and she looked upon them sweetly. Their expressions softened, yet they remained steadfast despite her best efforts to sway them.
"You cannot keep me in here like a prisoner!" She barked at them. "I am no caged animal! Let me speak to the king!"
"Lady Adlanniel..." Came a familiar voice from behind the guards. Moving aside they revealed a tall ellon in dark pine robes, his ashen brown hair flowed down his broad shoulders in an array of braids and waves. His face, porcelain and beautiful like all those of the eldar, was calm and composed.
It was Galion, the Elvenking's butler. She knew him well and though he was the quiet type, he was always gentle with her.
"Aran vuin will see you." He said simply.
Moving aside, the guards allowed her to follow him without question. She was surprised by his sudden appearance, but did not question it and they walked along the dusty path in silence.
Turning to her, he bowed his head in respect as he held out his hand towards the entrance to the king's tent.
"You may enter, hiril vuin."
"Thank you, Galion." She nodded, before pushing back the flaps of canvas. The king was standing over his war table, mulling over an array of parchments and leather scrolls which Adlanniel perceived to be battle plans and maps. He was wearing a casual robe of black silk, embossed with motifs of vines and flowers in silver thread. They, and his luscious flaxen hair that flowed freely down his back, shimmered from the light that she let in when she entered. Yet the king did not even look up to acknowledge her, but instead continued to measure something on one of the maps.
"You wished to see me?" He asked plainly, still not looking up to her. His cold demeanour made her shift on her feet nervously. Any heat she had been feeling with her emotions was now suddenly frozen over.
"I..I came to see that you are well.." Her voice was hesitant, cautious. The king's aura was somewhat forbidding.
"As well as anyone can be considering the circumstances." He replied simply, still not looking up to her. The fact that he said nothing more to her, and did not even ask about her own condition, hurt her deeply. Yet she did not want to leave, and begged deep within her heart that he would say at least one gentle word to her.
"I do not have the time to spare for idle chit-chat, Adlanniel. What is it that you want?" He was looking at her now, his eyes grey and as glacial as his voice. His rather dismissive tone jarred her then.
"Why are you being so cold towards me?" She asked eventually, standing steadfast and brave. "You have been avoiding me like the plague ever since I arrived here. I demand to know why."
He rose his eyebrows at her. "Demand?" He mocked her. "I see that you still do not know your place." His eyes narrowed onto her darkly then, his voice foreboding and almost cruel.
"I just want to know why." She pleaded desperately. She was too weary and downtrodden to fight with him again, and only wanted one simple, kind word to help relinquish her sorrow.
"If you are ignoring me in order to protect Legolas, or to deny the feelings you once had for me, then fine!" She continued. "But I do not deserve this rancour that you direct so fiercely at me. What have I done so wrong to have made you be like this?"
"You coming here would be a good place to start." He bit at her harshly.
"Have I not apologised enough for that?" She asked, her voice hurt and quivering.
"As I have already told you.." He began as he turned back to his maps, ignoring her feelings, "I am not the one you have to atone to. You seek absolution from those that are awaiting the judgement of Mandos and I would not think that the dead would forgive so easily."
The breath hitched painfully in her throat as she suppressed a sob of shock; shock at how cruel his words were. She did not believe that she was deserving of such animosity, not at least entirely, and it broke her heart that her once caring and gentle king had turned into such a cruel and bitter being.
"If that is the case..." She sniffed angrily, hot tears now cascading down her pale cheeks, "Then your wife will never forgive you for what we have done, and you will never see her again, not even in paradise."
He stared at her then at such words; he was not the only one who could be cruel it seemed. Perhaps they were more alike than he had thought. In most cases, her retorting in such a way would bring him back to the reality of how cold he had been and would make him apologetic in such circumstances. However, though deep in his heart he adored her, her words only sought to fuel his anger and scorn. Before she could even take in another breath he was standing before her, holding her by the jaw tightly, his icy gaze piercing her like a stalactite.
"Watch yourself Adlanniel." He growled in warning.
"Or what?" She snapped as she pulled herself away from him violently, her glare matching his in intensity. "Would you dare bring harm to a pregnant woman?"
He scoffed at her then, his eyes narrowing onto her once more. "This is a war, you silly girl, not the dolls you used to play with! How will you ever succeed as a mother, if you are unable to protect even yourself?" He hissed.
So hurtful were his words, all the bile in her throat began to boil over in anger. Without even a second thought, the palm of her hand slapped sharply across his porcelain cheek. The blaze that burned in his eyes then did not deter her, for now her heart was twisted in fury. "It appears you played with dolls as well; your son and I!" She shouted at him, uncaring if anyone from the outside could hear. "What type of parent are you, as you lead your son into despair? What type of husband are you, as you seduced me to lay with you, your son's own fiancé! Why did I allow myself to spread my legs to such a demon as you? There is no need to reveal that monstrous scar of yours as we all know of the malicious beast that you are!"
As with her, such a malicious fury burned within him then. Without even thinking, his hand landed hard against her jaw, sending her sprawling to the rugs beneath them. A small slither of blood trickled down the side of her lip where he had struck her, and she clutched the throbbing pain at the side of her face, her eyes wide and glazed as she stared up at him in horror. He was staring at his hand in a daze, trying to fathom what had just occurred. No sooner did his bewildered gaze meet hers, did she bolt out of the tent in tears, pushing past the awaiting butler and guards as she did.
What had he just done? He just struck her...something he had never done to an elleth before...something he thought that he was never capable of doing. Yet he could not bring himself to go after her. Though he felt ashamed for what had just happened, his heart was too aggrieved and bitter from her words. She had to learn her place, and though this was not the way he had been intending, he was sure that now she had learnt her lesson.
"Hiril vuin?" Her own guards questioned in surprise as she rushed pass them back into the prince's tent. She paced the floor hysterically, sobs wracking at her mercilessly as she tried to calm herself.
"My lady, are you alright?" The eldest guard questioned as he appeared in the door, obviously very worried about what had happened to his charge.
"Just get out! GET OUT!" She screeched, making him stumble back in surprise. "Y..yes, hiril vuin." He stammered as he obliged.
Adlanniel dove into the bed and threw the furs and blankets over herself as she curled into a sobbing ball, clutching at her aching face. How could he have dared strike her, especially when she was with child? How could they have allowed each other to have come to such cruel words and blows? What was happening to them?
She remained there in the bed, bawling in a heap, until finally Legolas returned from his hunt.

"Cund vuin..." The eldest guard at his tent bowed in greeting, still a concerned look upon his face. The prince had easily enough read the guard's expression and so himself too became concerned.
"What is it? Did something happen whilst we were gone?" He questioned.
"We do not know for certain, cund vuin, but it is the Lady Adlanniel."
Legolas' eyes shot open in surprise. "What about her? What happened?" He pushed.
"She has refused entrance to all, and has been weeping since the afternoon. She had gone to see the king, your father, and had run back here. I think they may have had some sort of...altercation." He explained.
"Altercation?" He repeated. Indeed, he had taken notice of his father's unusual disdain towards her since she had arrived, but for them to actually have had an all out altercation seemed too out of the ordinary.
"I cannot be so sure..." Replied the guard honestly, "But I believe that to have been the case due to her demeanour when returned here."
Legolas furrowed his brow as he entered the tent. "Adlanniel?" He called gently. Yet there came now answer. "Tithin cugu?" He called again.
"Go away!" Came a choked reply. Legolas, almost in a panic, rushed to her side. "My love, what has happened?" He questioned her, his voice full of worry.
"I said, go away!" She shouted at him them, flailing her arms to push him out of the way. Yet he caught her by her lower arms and pinned her hands down.
"Adlanniel, it is I, Legolas!" He tried desperately to calm her down. Letting out a loud sob, she flopped back down onto the bed and began to cry again. That is when he noticed the large bruise on her right cheek, as well as the small cut on her lip. They had not been there that morning and his eyes widened in a shocked horror as he stared down at her dismal state.
"Adlanniel...what has happened to you? Who did this to you??" He asked her as he gently took her by the chin to make her look at him. Her eyes, red and swollen, stared at him for a long moment. Yet, she did not reply and lowered her gaze from his. "Adlanniel??" He pushed. "Did my father do this??" Again, she did not answer and simply slumped herself back down to the bed.
That was all the answer he needed, and he could feel a fury heat up inside him like a dormant volcano reawakened. Without another word he shot up and stormed out of the tent, pushing by all those that got in his way.
"ADAR!?" He shouted as he burst into the king's tent, uncaring of any who may have heard, or seen him. Thranduil had been talking to his butler, and their eyes both shot up in surprise at the prince's rather unruly entrance. Galion gave a quick bow before making a hasty exit, his eyes flicking up to the angered prince as he passed.
"What is it Legolas?" The king asked, rather plainly.
"What in the stinking hell of Melkor's abyss happened between you and Adlanniel?"
"Nothing that really concerns you." His father replied dismissively.
"Anything that happens to her, concerns me!" The prince barked angrily. "She is my wife! And when I saw her, she had a fresh bruise on her jaw and a cut lip!"
Thranduil's heart sunk suddenly with guilt, and his eyes widened, remembering what he had done.
"I honestly do not know what is going on between you both, but remember adar, her happiness in my happiness." Legolas snarled. "You have taken away her light, and you are the one who will have to fix that predicament. Hurt her again, and you will have a fate worse than the void to deal with." And without another word, Legolas spun around and stormed back out, leaving his father there in a daze.
Sighing, Thranduil slumped down onto his sofa, massaging the stress from his temple as he did so. Indeed, even he still could not comprehend why he had lost all sense of reason when she had come to him. Perhaps she was right, perhaps he was behaving so cruelly to her in order to deny how he felt about her. And his feelings for her were still so painfully deep despite having tried to deny them. Yet he knew he had to deny her now, he knew he had to deny his urges, his lust, his need for affection. Though so potent were they, his heart pained dreadfully every time he laid eyes upon her; as the case may be that is why he was avoiding her, though at times not intentionally. A huge wave of guilt swept over him as he put his head in his hands. He knew his son was right, he would have to fix all the damage he had caused.

Adlanniel was still curled up in the bed, numb, when Legolas returned to the tent. He sat beside her and sighed dolefully as he leant down to gently stroke her hair.
"Oh my dear tithin cugu...What is happening between you two? For I can not comprehend what is going on." He said, his voice almost desperate as he continued to look down to her. Yet, again, she did not reply, but simply clutched to the blankets tighter and shivered. Sighing once more, Legolas leant down to pull off his boots before lying down next to her, holding her tightly in an attempt to give her some form of reassurance.
"No one will hurt you again, my love, no one. I promise you that..."

Sindarin Elvish - English
ellyn - elven men
ellon - elf male
elleth - elf female
eldar - the race of elves
Diheno nin - forgive me
hiril vuin - my lady
aran vuin- my kind (your majesty)
cund vuin - my prince (your highness)
adar - father
tithin cugu - little dove
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A liaison in the Great Greenwood