Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Unanswered prayers	By : Nuredhel Category: -Multi-Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2298 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, it belongs to Tolkien, and i do not earn any money from this work of fiction, it is solely written for entertainment and not for profit at all.I do not own Lord of the Rings, it belongs to Tolkien,

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Ok, so he is back from the war but he isn’t the same elf as he was before, it becomes very clear in this chapter. He has brought the war with him, caught within his own mind. When someone has lived in terror and fear for a long time it affects them and they can become very different from who they were originally. He is suffering from post traumatic stress disorder and it is wreaking havoc on his mind and soul. This chapter is Mature/Adult in nature due to domestic abuse, violence and general darkness and unpleasantness. I just thought that since elves are creatures of light they are either too strong to be affected by PTSD as humans do or it will hit them even harder than it does us.
The lyrics below are from the album Nightfall in middle earth by the band Blind Guardian, they have a lot of Tolkien inspired music and I love it all, this album is the silmarillion compressed and I think these lines of lyrics fit the situation just perfectly. And as always, I do not own the characters except from my own.
Chapter six: Out of the darkness
I feel like screaming
But I can't breathe in
Shall I wane right now
I will not leave this
World of living
Till she has said
Goodbye
Out in the cold
I still wait for her call
And her last kiss
It shall be release
I can't forget her
Her face will not leave
From the depths of my soul
I long for her
So I heard all about it
Her voice's so clear
She's woven both themes in there
Moved me to tears
The world shall hear this sad song
Song of sorrow song of grief
Can't change the way of his kind
Can't change the way of her kin
Blind guardian: “When sorrow sang ”from “Nightfall in middle earth”
Vanima went straight to the baths and he followed her feeling extremely nervous and confused. She acted differently now, gone was the young elleth used to an easy living. She walked with confidence, talked the same way. There was strength within her gaze and it was a new and different kind of strength, she had matured a lot and he could see the sorrow in her too. She knew what they had lost, how the war had affected them all. He felt a sensation of awe when looking at her, she did really look like a queen. The baths were deserted and he sat down on a bench, realizing how terribly tired he was. His head spun like crazy and he felt that the darkness was somewhat comforting, it shielded him from the truth, from the guilt and shame threatening to devour his very soul. Vanima started unstrapping his armor, she worked fast and with steady hands and he saw something new within her now, something he hadn’t noticed before. She didn’t seem to be bothered by his presence and it made him wonder why. She got the armor off, tossed it into a corner and then she helped him with his boots and jacket. Thranduil hesitated, he didn’t know whether or not he could just strip in front of her, before he left he could not and he wasn’t sure of what to do. Vanima sent him a calm glance, she looked a bit annoyed in fact. “Get it off, all of it. It stinks and it isn’t as if I haven’t seen you before, besides, I have worked as a healer for many years now.”
He sighed, she was all professional now, acting like a healer and not as his wife at all. He pulled off his tunic and his pants and then his underwear and she just stood there, looking very calm and collected. She pressed her eyebrows together when she saw his by now rather impressive collection of scars, she was a bit shocked and he tried to smile. “Do not worry, they will fade into nothing, in time.”
She cocked her head, studied him with the same cool expression as she would when examining a horse she might buy. “I know this off course but you have not taken good care of yourself. What is this?”
She pointed at a particularly bad one, crossing his ribs just beneath his right chest muscle, it was ragged and long and not pretty at all. He tried to give her a wry grin but it failed, it became a grimace. “An orc’s axe, got me good but I did better, I got his head.”
Vanima shook his head. “Males, always trying to make a joke about everything, and this one?” She stared at a scar on his back, running parallel with his spine. “Ah, that is a little unclear to me, I guess it was a spear, it cut straight through the leather.”
Vanima looked almost angry, and he felt afraid all of a sudden. Had he escaped death and ruin just to return home and face the wrath of that very fiery elleth he remembered from their first meeting? “How many times were you close to dying Thran, do not lie to me!”
He tried to smile again. “How many stars are there in the skies, that’s a question easier to answer I fear.”
She scoffed and took his clothes, threw them into a basket, he stood there feeling shy and embarrassed and he felt like some weird animal on display. “Into the water with you Thran, you smell like… a pig-sty!”
He chuckled in spite of it all, tried to act with dignity as he walked into the water. He had never been so self-conscious and shy before but now he was. He wondered what she was thinking about him, what the sight of him made her feel.
Vanima was in shock but she had gotten used to hide her feelings very well by now, he had changed so much, he was almost unrecognizable. He still had his height of course but he had gotten so much broader and more toned and she knew that even though he was thin he weighed much more than he had when he left. His body had bulked up, probably as a result of all the hard physical labor and the scars were such a terrible reminder of the true reality of it all. She knew that he had been through hell but had he brought it with him home or had he managed to leave it all behind? He sighed with relief as the hot water embraced him, he had dreamt of something like this, of warmth and security and just the comforts of home. He wasn’t going to take any of that for granted anymore.
Vanima had fetched several bottles of soaps and ointments and she told him to sit down on the seats carved into the wall of the pool so she could wash his hair. He did, leaning back towards the head rest, letting her pour hot water over his body. It felt so good, it was unreal. He was so relaxed for the first time in years and before he really knew it he drifted off into sleep. Vanima just smiled, a somewhat sad grin. She gently washed his hair while he was laying there, so tired he didn’t stir even when she had to cut some of his long silvery blond locks to get the tangles out. It had grown to full length now, reached the small of his back and he probably had worn it braided most of the time. When he was clean she gently nudged him awake and he just blinked and was rather shocked by the fact that he had dozed off like that. She got him out of the water even though she would have loved to let him stay, but it was never a good idea to sleep like that. He needed food and a real bed first. He dried himself off and tried not to blush while she stood there, waiting with a dressing robe in her hands. He felt dizzy, half asleep and nothing seemed to be real. He was afraid to wake up and find himself back in the tent, on the cold hard cot with just death and fear to look forward to once more. Vanima then took him to the private little dining room meant just for the royal family, they rarely ever used it but now she thought that he would be better off not having to deal with everybody else. The butler brought food, baked vegetables, chicken and bread and cheese and wine, real wine. Not the darn horsepiss they had been drinking for the last years. He suddenly discovered that he was hungry, so very hungry. He had to fight hard not to just stuff his face like a maniac and eat like a civilized person. Vanima had some food too but it wasn’t hard to tell that she ate very little. He saw it now, the dark rings underneath her eyes, the visible veins in her arms, the fatigued expression in her face.
He had been fighting with cold steel in his hands, she had been fighting with her strong will and even stronger spirit. Her fight had perhaps been no less vicious than his, just a little less bloody. He admired her even more now, she was truly unique. Vanima watched him eat and she found that she was glad he had his appetite still. He had to have lived on just lembas and few other things and seeing him truly enjoying a good meal was great. He drank a whole glass of wine but said no to more than that, he wasn’t used to such liquids any longer and didn’t want to get drunk. He feared what that state might unleash from his mind, there were things hiding in there he didn’t want to share with anyone, Vanima least of all.
They finished the meal with some pieces of a fruitcake the cook had made just for him, it had always been his favorite and as he felt that sweet familiar taste in his mouth it really dawned on him that he was home, that he was safe. It was over, the war was over. He gasped and Vanima took his hand, squeezed it hard. “It is alright Thran.”
He felt tears swelling in his eyes and the butler had to discretely remove some from his own cheeks, he had begun to fear that his master never would return again. It was such a day of bitter sweetness, alas that they were to live in such times but the enemy was defeated and peace would return. Thranduil used a napkin to wipe away the tears and Vanima caught his eyes, hers were so calm, so soft and yet there was a ferocity within them that told him that she would have fought to the bitter end if Greenwood had come under attack in his absence. She would never allow anything to happen to her people while she still drew breath.
She had ordered the chamber maidens for their room to be cleaned and new sheets and bed spreads to be found. The room had been heated up and prepared and he staggered more than walked as she opened the door and followed him in. The wine and the food make him extremely sleepy and she pushed him towards the bed, he didn’t resist at all, didn’t speak. His eyes were already clouded by sleep and she pushed him down and lifted his legs into the bed, pulled the soft covers over him and he was already sleeping. She stood there, staring at him with a very sad expression on her face. When they first got married he had looked so innocent when he slept, so youthful. Now he looked worried, afraid, tormented. There were lines in his face that hadn’t been there before, visible when he made a grimace and she let her hand slide across his cheek just once before she left the room to let him sleep in peace.
She stopped outside of the door, leaning back against it with her eyes closed. She remembered what Galadriel had said, she had to help him overcome the things he had seen, the things he had done. He had to become whole once more and she thought that she already knew at least some of his problems. He still had problems believing that this all was true, that he no longer had to fight. It would require a lot of her, she would have to face not her own demons but his and she feared that this could be a hard fight indeed. To cleanse a mind like his would take time, effort and most of all patience and stubbornness. She could not back down, could not give in even once because then this very important battle would be lost. She knew that Isildur had fallen, that the ring of power was missing and she felt that this was what Galadriel had been unable to see. From this seed evil would reemerge and they had to be ready when the time came. She had to make sure that they were.
Vanima made sure that everybody was being fed, that there was enough food and room for everyone and the palace was filled with an almost sinister atmosphere that evening. The truth had slowly seeped into their minds, the true scale of their losses became more than numbers or names but faces and voices they had known and loved. Some felt the euphoria of having their loved ones returned to them alive but for too many the opposite was real. Vanima went to bed in a guestroom that night, she had a hard time falling to sleep. This was when it started on her behalf, this was the beginning of her fateful battle and if she lost then they would all loose. She sighed and forced herself to relax, only the Valar knew what would happen now and maybe not even they could foresee the full extent of destinies intricate dance. They said that she had the temper of a she dragon, now they would have to see if she also had the strength of one.
The morning light was piercing and at first he was utterly confused, he had not seen light like that for many a year, it seemed that the skies above Mordor had been clouded the entire time. Then he remembered where he was and he took a deep breath, had to close his eyes to keep himself under control. The feelings rushing through him were truly overwhelming and he sat there with his eyes closed for a while. He slowly turned his head, took a peek at the other side of the bed. Nobody had slept in it and he bit his lower lip in a strange mix of disappointment and acceptance. He should have known it, she would not share his bed, not yet. Maybe never. For all he knew she was just polite towards him, saw him as a sort of project. He could not hope that she would feel anything more towards him now than before he left, how could she by the way?
He saw that it was getting late, the sun was high above the horizon already and he had to get up. He could not give his subjects the impression that he was getting lazy now could he? He got out of bed and went to the bathroom, even that was something which to him was a bit of a thrill now, a real bathroom. Out there they had dug latrines and after just a few days they were stinking and disgusting and he had hated them. He got dressed and knew that he from now on had to look like a king, and act like one. He sighed and felt that burden fall onto him like a ton of bricks. He looked at himself in the mirror, almost with reluctance and was shocked by what he saw. He could not remember having looked so somber, so sad? He did no longer look like a prince, that was for sure and he closed his eyes for a second. “Oh Ada, how I miss you. How am I going to do this alone?”
He took a deep breath, tried to hold his back straight and his chin up and then he walked out of the door, ready for his first day as the king of Greenwood. He met Vanima in the hallway, she was wearing a dark blue dress and looked no less lovely than the day before. She smiled and he felt a weird fluttering feeling within his chest at the sight of that smile. “Have you had a pleasant night?”
He nodded. “Yes, I have slept like a log.”
Vanima took him by his elbow, smiled at the courtiers passing by, waved her hand at some children running past them, she was beaming and to everybody she had to look like a picture of perfect happiness. “There is breakfast waiting for you, we are preparing the coronation in the grand hall, it is to happen at sunset.”
He cringed, looked down. “I am not so sure that I am ready for that, not just yet anyhow?”
She smiled but there was sadness in that smile. “I know, but there is no way around it I am afraid. Our people need to see that they have a king, a leader. They need to see that there is hope for a better peaceful future.”
He sighed and tried to smile, it all felt so weird. “And until that ceremony?”
Vanima petted his hand. “You are to meet with the counsellors who are to tell you all that has happened while you were away and update you on matters of state and so on.”
He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Oh Valar, I would rather fight orcs!”
Vanima just sent him one of her calm glances. “I know you would, but see this as a different kind of battle. Believe me, I have dealt with everything from merchants to people wishing to settle within this forest and some were no less vicious or pig-headed than orcs”
He managed to grin. “You are saying this to make me feel better.”
She shrugged and opened the door to the dining room. “Maybe I am, maybe I am not, eat now, you will need your strength.”
He sat down and felt overwhelmed by the amount of food, of real food. The rations they had been giving on the campaign had been terrible at the end and he showed such joy over simple things like jam and fresh bread. He had dreamed of the smell of fresh bread and ate until he felt completely stuffed. Afterwards he walked to the office to meet the counsellors and he knew that from this day forth everything would change for him. There was no way back.
Vanima was busy preparing for the ceremony and the feast that was to follow it, luckily there were plenty of elves gathered there at the moment and they finished the preparations in time. Vanima then went to take a bath and change and her chambermaidens were excited. Today she became their queen also officially and she had to look the part. She had known that this day would come and so she had gotten a gown sown that should satisfy everybody, It was in a pale tone of dark green and it made her look very regal and ethereal. When it was put on she also got some jewelry that belonged to the queen of the realm and when she saw her own reflection she knew that she was staring at someone she really wasn’t, not on the inside.
Thranduil had also gotten some new clothes and he looked just as stunning and just as nervous. He didn’t really know what to say but luckily he didn’t really have to say that much, just some promises to the people. Vanima would have to say even less and she hoped that he managed to look as strong and confident as he did in private also when they were out there, in front of everybody. Vanima gave him her hand and they both brazed themselves before they left the room they had stood in and walked out among their subjects, there was many a gasp of admiration and Vanima managed to smile, to look as gentle and caring as usual even though her heart beat like mad in her chest.
They stood in front of one of the Silvan elders who was well respected and functioned as a sort of priest or shaman. He chanted blessings and incantations which would ensure that their reign was long and would blossom. Then the nobles of the court came forth and swore their allegiance and never ending loyalty to their new king. The ladies of the court would pass by and each of them kissed Vanima’s hand, she felt peculiar, almost on the brink of bursting into a fit of laughter, it was so absurd. The priest brought forth a cup of wine and Thranduil took a sip from it before Vanima had to do the same. Then the rest of the wine was poured out as a sacrifice to the earth itself, from now on they were regarded as representatives of the gods themselves and the powers of nature. Two thrones had been placed in the middle of the main garden, they were simple and yet beautifully carved and both had to sit down and Vanima managed to get seated without getting stuck or anything. She tried to look graceful but felt like a klutz.
The crowd was silent, they watched the couple with eager eyes, they all wanted to see if these two indeed could bring their realm into a new golden age. Thranduil had to get up first, then he knelt down on the ground and the shaman spoke again in a very ancient dialect nearly nobody knew. They all heard a strange sound coming from the forest, like a breeze had passed through the branches but there was no wind to speak of. The shaman grinned. “They are welcoming you, they are blessing you, you are one of us now Thranduil Oropherion, one of the forestfolk.”
Thranduil took a deep breath of relief, he felt a bit dizzy. That the forest itself blessed him made him feel a heck of a lot better.
The nobles were kneeling too and the shaman brought the crown and the wooden staff, he started singing something very beautiful and yet sad and Thranduil winced when he felt the crown being placed upon his head. Vanima sat so close she could see a silvery tear trickle down his cheek. The shaman raised his hand. “From this day forth you shall never again have to kneel to no one, rise king Thranduil of Greenwood.”
He got up, gracefully and with elegance and Vanima could not help but feel impressed by the great dignity he seemed to carry like a cloak. Thranduil cleared his throat and his deep soft voice could be heard by them all as he took his oath. He swore to be their protector, to be their leader and to guard the realm with all of his might and all of his soul. To the very end of time this oath would stand true and she saw the pride in his gaze as he spoke those words, she also saw his courage and strength and knew that he would die before he even though of breaking this oath. Everybody kneeled now, their faces to the ground and some were chanting something that sounded extremely ancient and very definitely silvan. Vanima was next, she had to get up, kneel next to him and be blessed and a smaller and more feminine crown was placed upon her head. It felt as though it weighed a million tons.
She said her vows too and they both stood there and received the cheering and blessings from the crowd before they were allowed to sit down once more. Vanima had a feeling of being in a dream, she had problems understanding that it was real. As it was custom the leading members of their community brought gifts and some of the silvan did the same. Vanima could hardly believe what she saw but Thranduil was as calm as a cucumber and just smiled and thanked everybody gracefully. He had been taught well by his father and he didn’t show anyone any favors, he thanked everyone equally wholeheartedly. Then the feast began and Vanima had wished that she could just relax and enjoy herself as she would have done earlier but she could not. If she was to dance she had to dance with Thranduil and they were the first in everything now. The first to toast, the first to taste the food and the first to dance. Luckily he still liked dancing cause she hated just sitting there like some doll.
The evening went by, dancing, tasting the food, toasting, dancing some more, congratulations, handshakes, blessings and even more dancing. She felt exhausted when the night fell and her head was spinning Thranduil was dancing with her once more, slowly with his cheek towards hers and it had to be very uncomfortable to him since he had to bow down a lot to be able to do that. People were leaving and Thranduil stared at her, there was something very vulnerable in his gaze. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
His voice was low and almost pleading and she nodded. “Of course, I will never again be parted from you, you should know that by now”
He let out a sigh of relief and smiled. Vanima hoped that he didn’t get the wrong idea, she wasn’t ready to go that far just yet. She knew that she would have to take that step, but she didn’t know when it would be necessary. They left together and walked to their chambers in silence. Vanima knew that this had been her last day as an ordinary elleth, from the morrow she would have to act like a true queen and her mind dreaded the whole thing. But there was no way back. She would have to help him rule, he was inexperienced and young and she had already ruled for seven years. She just hoped that he would listen to her advice.
Thranduil went into the bathroom to change and she got rid of her clothes and put on a nightgown, crawled into bed. She just hoped that he wouldn’t show any amorous intents this night, she wasn’t ready for that. He returned and was wearing a dressing robe, slid underneath the covers and laid down. He stared at the ceiling, his eyes distant. “If you just knew how weird this feels.”
She bit her lower lip. “What?”
He lifted his hand. “This, the bed, the room, the comforts.”
Vanima did pity him then, she knew that life had to have been very hard indeed out there. He swallowed hard. “I mean, even such a simple thing as a glass of water, it was almost impossible to find water and what we found was foul and stinking and filled with filth. Not even the dogs the Edain brought would touch it. And taking a bath? Impossible.”
With those last words he cringed and went pale and she frowned. “Thranduil, what is wrong?”
He took a deep breath, shivering. Suddenly it came back to him, the guilt and the shame. The things he had done in desperation and fear of dying. The betrayal of which he was guilty. He wanted to tell her, oh how he wanted to get this load off his chest and soul but the words stuck in his throat. She would loathe him afterwards, he would stain her, pollute her pure soul with the filth he had gathered within. “I…I…”
He didn’t manage to say anything more, just shivered and she saw the tears on his cheeks. She grasped his hand. “I know it must have been terrible Thran, and I know you must have suffered. Believe me, you can tell me anything, everything. “
He shook his head. “Not this Vanima, no, not this.”
She sighed and turned over, her face so fair in the candle light and he thought that she looked like one of the Valar, like a goddess. “Yes Thranduil, you are wounded, but the wound is not on your hroa but in your fêa. You need to heal and to do that you have to let go of it, of it all. The horrors, the fear and the death. It was but it will never again be, believe this.”
He choked a sob. “Oh Vanima, you are so much more wise than me. How can I possibly repay you for your loyalty, for these seven years?”
She caught his eyes with her own. “By letting it out, by letting me heal you. Tell me one thing Thran, one thing. We will start with that, you will see it is getting better as we go along. We have much time ahead of us, one step at a time is enough.”
He took a deep breath, shivering from the very core of his soul. He was back once more, alone in the tent, alone on a cold hard cot with just a filthy blanket to warm his shivering body and a glass of cheap wine for comfort. He heard the moans from the wounded, the screams and the laments being sung. He smelled the stench of mud and blood and rotting meat, the terrible smell from the latrines and the healing tents. He saw the healers running around wild eyed and bloody, unable to do anything but easing the worst pain and perhaps save a few. He saw the warriors sitting by the fires, nothing but darkness in their eyes and nothing but death in their hearts. He saw the orcs and the wargs, the power of the dark lord and he felt like an insect once more, so tiny and weak and easy to crush.
Suddenly she was grasping him, shaking him. “Thranduil, you are hallucinating, screaming!”
He stared at her, wild eyed, he had drifted too far back. He sobbed and broke into crying, hid his face towards her neck again, sought comfort like a child seeks its mother. She whispered to him, soft gentle words and he remembered the feeling he had had when he took those women back in the camp. He had laid there with their bodies next to him, it had brought him some comfort, sated his carnal desires but it left him feeling more and more empty and hollow. It had been meaningless, without purpose. It had only made him feel more miserable even though it felt so terribly good right there and then. He had always been hot blooded and he had very strong urges for one of the eldar. But he had been in control of himself up to then, the fear and the chaos and the despair had broken down every wall that he had, laid his defenses open wide and he had fallen for temptation like a rock being dropped from a high tower. He shuddered, felt the warmth of her and how she breathed, slowly and calmly. He closed his eyes and tried to gather that last spark of spiritual strength. He took a deep breath and then he forced the words out. “Vanima, I have been unfaithful to you, I have…I have lain with other women while I was away!”
She sighed and stroked his hair, he waited for her to push him away, to shout out her disgust of him, to become furious. She just sighed, her hands so soft and gentle upon his head. “Thran, I don’t care, it was a war. I am sure you were filled with despair and scared and so terribly lonely.”
He nodded slowly. “I was, but that doesn’t excuse my actions. I slept with whores Vanima, just to feel something else than fear and anger. But it didn’t help, it didn’t help at all.”
She closed her eyes, a sad smile on her lips. “Of course it didn’t, but know that I forgive you. After all, our own marriage is everything but normal or what? You have your needs, and the body reacts to stress in strange ways. Worry not Thran, we will make that darkness nothing more than a hurtful memory.”
He could only sob and cling onto her as though she was his only hope, Vanima sighed and continued stroking his hair until she felt that his breath became slow and deep and he no longer moved. His eyes were glazed with sleep and she slowly shifted her position until she too could sleep comfortably. He had confessed the one thing that probably had been tormenting his consciousness the most, and it was a huge step but she knew that it was only the beginning. This was a mere brick in a huge fortress and she would have to be very adamant and remember that sometimes she would have to be cruel to be kind. Their future depended upon it. She allowed herself to drift off to sleep knowing that it would be a rough time ahead of her, she whispered a prayer swiftly, hoping that the Valar would make this transition from being a warrior to becoming a king easy on him but she somehow knew already that those hopes would be in vain.
She was right, the next days and weeks turned to months and she had never had such a challenge before, he wasn’t getting better as time went by, he was getting much worse. In the beginning he was learning, he was eager to become a good sovereign to his subjects and he took Vanima’s advice with grateful words and he used them too. He managed to get an overview of the situation rather fast and he was working in a way that told her that Oropher indeed had trained him well. He was meticulous and did never act rash or made the wrong decision, the counsellors was positively surprised by the maturity he showed and his ability to concentrate himself on the tasks ahead. He was going to be a wonderful king, of that there were no question. His personal life on the other hand was falling apart at an alarming rate. He would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming in fear or anger, sometimes he even began walking in his sleep and Vanima made the servants remove every weapon from their chambers and the rooms that were close by.
He hardly had time to eat, it was as if he tried to drown his fears in the new title and the work it brought. Vanima would try to make him see that he had to take care of himself and then he would snap at her, sometimes very viciously and that in front of others. Soon they all knew the grim truth, he was doing his duty as a king perfectly but he was a menace to be around. In the night he would hardly sleep out of fear of more nightmares and Vanima didn’t manage to make him tell her anything more. She was getting very worried and for every day it became more and more obvious. The entire court saw him tormented by the memories and the fear they brought, they saw how she selflessly and with great courage tried to reach him to no prevail and everybody did pity them both.
He would act very irrationally sometimes, his mood swinging from one extreme to the other and even though it didn’t affect his decisions as a king it seriously affected everybody around him. Vanima was getting so tired, she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t relax. He would yell at her, accuse her of trying to undermine his authority and call her terrible names but she stood her ground, although it made her heart bleed. She got even thinner than before, her eyes were constantly worried now. Taking care of the huge realm in a time of war and desperation wasn’t even half as hard as taking care of him. He was retreating into himself, he hardly ever spoke to her and when he did the words were hardly of the kind type. She tried to control herself but sometimes she would snap too and answer him in a similar manner and they would both leave the room, feeling hurt and misunderstood.
In the night he was tossing around, when he slept he spoke and she soon knew almost everything that had happened, he was reliving it all and that terrible depression was sinking its claws ever deeper into his soul. To the people he was a strict but fair ruler and they already trusted him but the members of court knew that he was a disaster waiting to happen. He was pale and was getting weaker by the day and he drank way too much to chase away the shadows stalking him. He was unable to stay in any room that wasn’t fully lit and the servants were busy scurrying around trying to keep all the candles burning. Vanima saw his pain and his terrible fear and she tried so hard to reach him, in the beginning he would lay next to her, seeking comfort and contact but now he was pulling away from her. He never let her touch him and when she tried he would snarl at her and accuse her of having hidden motifs. He was becoming increasingly paranoid and the weird thing was that it only included her and none others. He would gladly listen to the other counsellors and bow to their will if he saw it fit and wise, but he was getting more and more hostile towards her and she thought she knew why. He was afraid of having to face it all again, she would drain it all out of him and he was mortally afraid of going through that pain again. And he was afraid of hurting her during that process so he was subconsciously trying to drive her away.
He didn’t know it but the ladies of the court was seeing how he treated his wife and their hearts were bleeding for her. They saw her despair and they knew that the war had poisoned his mind. Some of them had husbands of their own who had been fighting by his side and they knew the horrors these ellyn faced every night. They tried to back her up as best as they could, they did as much as they could to ease her burden. Vanima was so endlessly grateful of their thoughtfulness but she never managed to reach him. Sometimes he would scream that he should have died, others that he felt empty, that nothing really mattered anymore and when she tried to convince him of the opposite he would throw a tantrum and a few times she feared for her own safety. He was suffering, not visibly but it was as if a sort of rot had infested his very soul and it was eating away at the ellon he had been and transforming the young king into something he never had been. Vanima feared that he in the end would go insane for real and then what?
She had a really difficult task keeping him away from weapons because she didn’t trust that he would make an attempt to end his own life, when he was at his worse he would threaten to do so and she feared that it wasn’t just an empty threat. And she could understand him so too darn well, the things the other survivors told her made her heart drop and her stomach clench. They told her of the orcs he had burned alive, of the battles where he had been caught by a terrible frenzy and gone berserk. They told of his friends and how they had all died, and they told of how his father had died. She had to give him his soul back, reinstate the bright spark that had been her husband before he left for that terrible campaign.
Months became a year, Vanima was at a standstill and even though they lived in the same rooms they were becoming strangers to each other, even more now than in the beginning. He still did his duties very well and the rest of the population only saw their very skilled and wise king. Those around him saw a wreck. The title and its implications were the only thing that protected him from a complete breakdown, if it hadn’t been for the oath he had sworn and the pride he took in that he would have perished already.
Vanima tried, every day she tried with gentle words, acts of selfless compassion and kindness but it didn’t reach him. She was in despair and feared that even her strength wouldn’t be enough. She would lay awake at night fearing that she would betray them all, that Galadriel’s fear would become a reality. To lose this fight was to lose the very future and so she continued, with her teeth clenched together and a never dying hope in her heart. She would bring him food even when he didn’t ask for it, hoping that he wouldn’t let it go to waste. She told the butler to only serve him wine that had a low alcohol content or were watered out. She placed warm blankets around his shoulders when he sat there, so occupied with his work he didn’t even keep the fire of the hearth burning, but rarely was there a word of gratitude being spoken. He ignored her most of the time, if he didn’t just grunt something incoherent that could be anything really.
It took a lot of time reorganizing the realm now, they had lost so many and the lack of laborers was almost critical. They had lost almost all of their metal workers and the apprentices were not even close to being as good as those who had died. They had lost many with considerable skills and knowledge in almost every field and Thranduil was working furiously with spreading those who remained through the realm. He had decreed that every family who had a child would be rewarded with land and hoped that this and the newfound peace would create a baby boom. He worked on diplomatic letters to the other realms, sought to reinforce the trading and the contacts between the elven strongholds. He was doing an amazing job and he also made deals with human traders from the areas around the great Greenwood. He was negotiating as a true master and the rumors spread that the new king of Greenwood was a hard nut to crack, but that he also was generous and fair towards those who deserved it. Vanima was proud of him then, she knew that the ellon he had been before the war still was somewhere inside of him. He just never showed that side of him anymore. He was intimidating and regal as a king, untouchable and his face a mask of calm power. You could never tell what it was that he felt when looking at him, his eyes were so cold, so distant. Many came from the throne room sweating and pale and he had a way to use his voice that was just terrifying. He never raised it, it was always calm and controlled but it could be so cold, so condemning it made the blood freeze within the very veins of anybody listening.
The summer heat was causing everybody to seek shelter and Vanima was working hard in the healing ward. She was a true healer now and one of the best there, she knew what there was to know of the body and its secrets and she knew also of herbs and medicine and procedures few others would dare to perform. She was proud of her own accomplishments but he was getting more and more aggressive towards her. She tried not to interfere with his rule at all, she stayed away from the throne room and knew that he didn’t need her advice any longer. She tried to avoid doing anything that could cause him anger because she had come to fear his rage over the months. She often thought that her heart couldn’t take any more, that she had reached her limit. She had almost died from a broken heart once, did that mean that she was more fragile than others now or had it hardened her? Good swords were bent and hammered out again countless times to become strong and flexible and she sometimes felt like a blade. She was receiving blow after blow and yet she was able to get back up again afterwards.
Then she realized that the bottom was far from reached yet. She had brought some herbal tea to their chambers and sat by a table, drinking a little while reading some letters from her parents. They were filled with polite greetings and flattery and she sighed and put her cup down. They were as always only interested in the gossip of the court and if she by any chance could get them into positions of increased influence within their own realms. She loathed them, it was as simple as that. She was very glad none of them had come to visit since her sister had been there. She tried to find something new to write back about when he came into the room, she immediately noticed that he was in a foul mood, worse than usual. He mumbled something while placing his crown upon a table, he grasped a bottle of wine and filled a chalice to the brim. She swallowed and tried not to look at him and he frowned, a snarl forming around his mouth. “So, the queen doesn’t approve of the king drinking, is it so?”
She knew that she shouldn’t answer but she couldn’t help it. “It is not good for you”
She kept her voice down, as a mere whisper but he heard her and a smile formed upon his fair face, a smile that was nothing short of being terrifying. It was so cold, so unnatural and she felt that her heart was hammering within her chest. He wouldn’t really hurt her? Or would he?
She bit her lower lip and he drank the whole chalice dry, in one go. Then he placed it on the table very carefully before he walked over to her, she saw something dark simmering in his eyes, a sort of anger of which she had never seen the likes off. It was an anger born of hurt, of fear and because of this extremely volatile. He grasped the cup of tea she had made for him and the grin got even nastier. “You sit here, weaving plans against me, and I bet you are planning on poisoning me too.”
She was barely able to gasp, he had gone mad! “How can you say that Thran? I am only trying to help you!”
He growled. “Oh yes? You want to rule alone, I know it. I see it in your eyes so don’t deny it you bitch.”
She shook her head, her hands clinging to the table to hide the fact that she was shivering with fear. “No, my lord, listen to yourself! That is a lie, you are not yourself!”
There was a spark in his eyes, a terrible fire begging to be unleashed. “Not myself? Then who do you think I am?”
She tried not to look at him. “A ghost, of battles lost and won.”
He snarled, the cup in his hand came hurtling towards her and she didn’t have time to react before he used it as a weapon and hit her in the face with it. The heavy ceramic broke and hot liquid splattered over her skin, the impact threw her backwards and she fell to the floor with a terrified scream. His eyes were ablaze, like blue fire and she knew that he truly was insane. No ellon would hurt a female, to strike his own wife with a heavy ceramic cup was unheard of. She whimpered, blood flowed from her nose and mouth and she knew that bones had been broken, that many of her teeth had been knocked out too. The pain was unbelievable and it was not just physical. She had lost, she had lost him. She just stared at him in terror, waiting for him to just bend down and finish her off, as he would an orc. He stared at her with an expression of disgust then he just turned around and left the room without saying another word. Vanima felt how her heart was breaking once more, how her fêa tried to break free and flee to the safety of Mandos halls.
She gasped for air and her vision failed, she had gotten seriously hurt and there was so much blood, she tried to get up, tried to crawl towards the doors to alarm the guards of her dire condition but she could not feel her own body any more. It was so cold, so terribly cold, tears were streaming down her face and even they were like cold blades against her skin. She gave up, her head fell onto the cold floors and she just drifted off, there was no longer any point in trying. He had crossed a line that never should have gotten crossed and she knew that not even her fiery spirit could tame the monster he was on the way to becoming.
She woke up slowly, and the pain was there right away, she had problems breathing and there was something wrapped around her face. She tried to sit up but hands were on her and held her down. She squeaked and felt that one eye was closed by swelling and her mouth felt weird too. Everything was spinning around and she was unable to even open her mouth. She saw a face, the chief healer, he was pale and she knew it was bad. But why was she there, why wasn’t she dead? She had been ready to let go, had wanted to.
Hwan tried to smile but she saw that he was sad and afraid too. “So not try to speak my lady, your jaw was broken, with your cheekbone and your nose. And you have lost five teeth but worry not, they will grow back out again in a few weeks.”
She nodded, moaned since the pain was mind numbing, a throbbing stabbing kind of pain she never had felt before. He patted her on the head. “You had burns from the tea but it is already healing, you will be fine my lady, you just have to stay here and rest for some days. The bruising and swelling will be gone soon.”
She closed her eyes again, sighed. He had hit her, viciously and on purpose, if she was sane she would demand that he was punished for this but who would punish a king for something like that? She could of course leave but a strange spark had ignited within her, pure spite and defiance. He would have to think twice before he thought that he had won, she was going to stay there, as persistent as a bulldog and she wouldn’t let go until she either had won or was dead for real. Hwan cleared his throat. “My lady, what he did to you….I cannot believe this, it is…such an outrage, a scandal! Is he utterly insane?!”
She nodded, could not speak but touched his hand gently, pointed towards the table at the end of the room, pretended to write. He got her a piece of parchment and a pen and she wrote a few words. “Don’t worry, I will deal with this whence I am healed, who found me?”
Hwan swallowed. “Your chamber maidens, they are in shock and the guards too. I have never seen two more confused ellyn, they are unable to believe that he really did this to you but who else could it have been.”
She nodded. Felt a tear running down her cheeks, so, had she finally found the bottom of that bitter cup or was there even more in score for her? Not even Galadriel could have foreseen this or could she? Had the lady seen what Vanima would have to endure to keep fighting? Hwan gave her a cup of something to drink, it was hard to swallow and they had bandaged her head to hold the bones in place until they had healed properly. It would only take a couple of days but it would be days that were to be uncomfortable to say the least. The painkillers did their job but she had to desperately fight to avoid becoming numb. She needed a clear head, everything depended on that from now on. Hwan swallowed hard, he looked down. “My lady, the rumors are already spreading, some came by and saw the blood on the floor and some saw you being carried to this place although they didn’t see your injuries. You cannot allow yourself to be seen like this. What am I to tell everybody?”
Vanima took a deep breath before she wrote again. “Tell them I suffered a miscarriage, that I had slipped and fell and hit myself. They have believed that once before, so why not now.”
Hwan nodded and there was a sad smile on his face. “Very well my lady, I will make sure that the nurses spread the word discretely. Sometimes the gossip of the court can be wielded like a sword and I am glad that you are aware of this.”
She smiled and wrote. “Indeed I am”
She closed her eyes and tried to relax. She felt so terribly tired so perhaps it was a good thing that she was forced to stay there for a few days. She thought of Teren again, and she missed him terribly. It was weird but she had barely known him, yet she knew that he was the one with whom her soul belonged had faith wished it differently.
The next day Hwan removed some of the bandages and he could with a sigh tell her that yes, everybody believed that she had lost a child once more but they had managed to put two and two together too. Everybody said that he had struck her and she had fallen and lost the baby and Vanima wished that she could scream in frustration. One of the guards had probably had a slip of the tongue and although nobody knew of the cup it was bad enough. The people could not lose faith in their king or their trust in him. Such a scandal could hurt him seriously and she just prayed that this didn’t bring more problems. He never came to her, never asked how she was doing and she felt a cold sting of anger hitting her heart again and again when thinking of it. But she was far from beaten. She would continue to fight and a she dragon is never without a backup plan. Little did she know that fate had yet another blow up its sleeve and this time one so nasty she didn’t see it coming even in her darkest dreams.
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Unanswered prayers