-Aldril-
A sigh of satisfaction escaped my lips. Shortly after the elves left me in the tent, sleep claimed me. I slept like a baby in its mother's arms, a natural effect of Thalwen's flowers.
"That was a good dream," I murmured, stretching my body and cracking my joints.
Sunlight gently touched the tent; tiny specks of light filtered through the entrance. The elves' chatter was cheerful, and soft melodies drifted through the camp, courtesy of the elven musicians.
"A very lively atmosphere," I thought. Without a doubt, it was a good sign. The hidden dangers in Dol Guldur must have been eradicated, and that joyful bustle could only be the celebration of those veteran elves. After so many years, they had finally reclaimed their ancient home.
As I stepped out of the tent, the sun's rays caressed my face gently, as if the very star itself was offering me thanks. Many elves greeted me warmly upon seeing me.
One in particular, noticing my presence, darted off toward Thranduil's tent, likely to announce that I was awake. I didn't mind, though; the warm, festive mood was contagious.
In the distance, I watched a group of elves dancing with others, clearly from Lothlórien, easy to distinguish by their more elegant and beautiful robes.
It was a captivating sight. I smiled at their happiness. To other races, elves might seem stoic and dull, but nothing could be further from the truth.
Elves were warm. They laughed, they cried, they loved.
Their serene expressions were just a mask, a way of protecting their emotions. But once you earned their trust, they revealed their vulnerable side.
"Aldril."
A soft, melancholic voice full of love made me turn.
The reddish glow of her hair, seemingly alive under the sunlight, captivated me instantly.
Tauriel had changed. She stood straighter now, more poised. Her eyes no longer held a trace of naïveté. It seemed all her doubts and questions had finally found answers.
"Tauriel," I said, my voice softening as a smile spread across my face. "How are you?"
Tauriel returned a radiant smile.
"I'm better," she said, stepping closer. "They told me you fought the Nazgûl… I'm sorry I wasn't there with you."
I shook my head. Ironically, the fact that Tauriel was in the camp had allowed me to fight comfortably, without worrying that something might happen to her.
But that wasn't something I intended to tell her. I simply gestured with my hand, letting her know not to worry.
Just as Tauriel was about to speak again, the same elf who had run off earlier returned at a brisk pace. With a slight bow, he announced:
"Lord Aldril, King Thranduil awaits you. He says he has something important to discuss with you."
"Very well," I nodded, thanking him with a glance before turning to Tauriel. "Coming with me?"
She gently shook her head.
"No. King Thranduil has asked me to inspect the surroundings, in case any orcs or spiders managed to escape," she said, then stepped even closer.
With confidence, she rose on her toes and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek.
"I'll see you later. There's something I want to talk to you about," she said with a smile before walking past me toward the scouting elves.
They, noticing the intimate gesture their captain had just shared with me, raised their eyebrows with subtle curiosity, though a few gave me knowing smiles.
I could still feel the moisture of Tauriel's lips on my cheek.
It was hard to believe that the shy and innocent elf from before now displayed such confidence overnight. But it wasn't a bad change. Not at all.
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts, and headed toward Thranduil's tent. Behind me, the messenger elf followed, his smile barely contained. He had probably just scored some top-quality gossip.
And yes, elves could be quite gossipy. After all, one had to find ways to entertain oneself over such a long life.
---
-General-
Shortly after his conversation with Tauriel, Aldril entered Thranduil's tent.
The king awaited him with a glass of wine in hand; his elegant and calculated movements only enhanced that royal temperament that defined him.
Once Aldril took a seat, the king poured him a glass of wine. As he did so, he spoke in his calm, slightly amused voice:
"I'm glad to know you're well. Finduilas wouldn't stop insisting that I send someone to check on you… and let's not even mention Tauriel. She could only be calmed by my wife; otherwise, she would've stormed into your tent and disturbed your rest."
I almost couldn't hold back a laugh at that last part. Still, I felt warmth in my chest knowing they had worried so much about me. I understood that Finduilas' concern likely stemmed from my resemblance to my father.
As for Tauriel's… well, that was surely a sign of something deeper. Love, perhaps. And I wouldn't be so dense as not to return it.
I liked her. She liked me too. But I had to take it slow, love was sacred to the elves. From the stories Thalwen told me, elves chose only one partner for their entire lives, and if that partner died, they would mourn them forever.
Though of course, there were exceptions, like King Finwë, who had been blessed with another wife after his first passed.
"Thank you," I said once the wine was served.
I took a refined sip, letting the liquid soothe my throat. Its fruity flavor was top quality. I had no idea how they made it, but someday, I might take a peek at its preparation.
"It's nothing," Thranduil dismissed with a wave of his hand, brushing off the gesture.
Over these past months, I had come to understand his temperament well. I knew he didn't care for roundabout talk—he preferred getting straight to the point.
"So then, Lord Thranduil… why did you call for me?" I asked.
Nodding in approval, Thranduil opened a chest beside him. From it emerged an exquisite ring—its silver sheen accentuated the gem embedded at its center. I could feel faint echoes emanating from it.
"Is this…?"
"The Dwarven ring," Thranduil said suddenly. "When you drove off the Witch-king, this ring fell from his black robe."
"The Dwarven ring?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Thranduil inspected the ring carefully, turning it over in his hand. "Yes, one of the Seven Rings given to the dwarves. This one, in particular, belongs to the House of Durin. Therefore, it belongs to…"
"Thorin."
***
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