To Live Again: Waiting Between Worlds {Lord of the Rings Fanfiction}

14. Waiting for You...

I don't see, or hear, or feel anything other than Thranduil's presence next to mine. For once in such a long time my world has ceased its erratic spinning, and I can actually catch my breath.

His hands are like burning veins that sear into my skin and join us together - just like the ivy vine that signified our union at our wedding feast. I want to surrender to him entirely and forget the past several years as if they were just a horrible dream, or lonely memory not worth remembering. But, we are in the company of our people, thousands of elven spirits all waiting to be allowed the same moment of reuniting with their own loved ones.

Reluctantly I pull my gaze from Thranduil's and let it drift behind him, though I still hold his hands tightly - I don't know if I can let him go.

The noble elves of court have ascended the steps, and now they await the commands of their King. I can almost see the hundreds of questions dance in their anxious eyes. I can almost hear their resounding thoughts; what will we do now? How will we recover the wounded? What expenses will we be crippled with from this war? Can we trust this one to lead us like his father?

So much uncertainty...it is practically stifling!

"My lord?" Olban's soft and kindly voice breaks the weighted tension as he shoulders his way to the front of the huddle; "My lord the people await your command."

Thranduil goes rigid and I automatically sense the change in his spirit. It cloisters itself, retracting away from me and hiding behind a very well-constructed mask of cold indifference. I cautiously watch his hard eyes - the pupils flickering as he mentally considers his response and works hard to ensure it is a reasonable one. I haven't seen him this careful since the early days of his dragon fire recovery, and suddenly I realize just how injured he truly is.

"There is nothing to command," Thranduil answers quickly as he twists away from me with such speed that it takes me a moment to register he isn't holding my hands any longer. "These warriors are exhausted...they need peace."

"Of course my lord," Olban bows his head in the still gentle voice that is so disarming that Thranduil visibly relaxes with him. "Would my lord wish us to relieve them from duty...or would my lord wish to retain that honour himself?"

A heartbeat of silence fills the air and a flash of a dozen emotions fall over my husband's face so quickly that I am convinced he turns a sickly grey.

Instinctively I reach for his hand and squeeze it comfortingly. This is a shock, of that I'm certain, I suppose it is that moment when suddenly you realise that all those eyes out there are actually waiting on you to say something comforting, anything at all that will ease their anxieties. That moment when there is no one left but you, and no one else to turn to make the simplest decisions...you are who everyone is looking to.

It is a lonely moment.

"We can speak on your behalf your Majesty," Calanon speaks up, appearing from the back wearing a concerned look. I am sure his healer instincts have kicked in and he is feeling what I am sensed; Thranduil is injured and traumatized and this is just a tad bit overwhelming, even for him.

"Lady Clara has attended to the readying of the Healing Halls, we are ready to receive any wounded or those who just need respite and care. You do not need to utter another word my lord, you need rest too. This can be done later...there is absolutely no rush..."

"No!" Thranduil snaps and raises his hand, wincing slightly at the jolt, making me increasingly concerned over how badly he is physically hurt; "No, I have led them this far, I can spare them a few more moments. It is the very least they deserve."

Hastily he stomps a little too heavily down the steps, ignoring the staff that the smaller ellon - who I assume as the squire from before - tries to insist he take.