Song for this chapter

***Rare Chapter notes***
For one thing, I want to mention there may be a mild trigger in this chapter for those sensitive to assault of any kind. For another, and on a more personal note, I will say that I lost my little brother, who was like my own kid, several years ago, and for that reason, this chapter was both very easy, and very hard to write. ***
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"I'm glad to be coming with you," I said to Tauriel, as we rode along the Mirkwood Road. "It is nice to have a change, even these woods," I said, glancing into the trees uncertainly.

Some of the Guard, along with the king's servant, the King himself, and myself, were travelling outside Mirkwood to acquire necessary supplies for the kingdom. Many things were brought to us by carrier boat upon our river, but some items we would travel to nearby towns to acquire. In addition, the king was to negotiate with the nearest port city for the price of Elvish made blades.

"I am happy to have you along, My Lady," Tauriel said. "And do not worry. All will be well, especially with the king present."

The king.

The king hadn't been himself with me in days. Not since I'd questioned his qualms about healing. Instead, even when sparring with swords, he'd been aloof, far away, and he did not even offer any of his usual biting comments. Truthfully I hated that more than if he'd been cross or even rude. Some show of feeling would have been preferable to utter indifference.

Instead, he seemed to have shut me out entirely. And when the king shut you out, it was a very cold shadow in which to dwell.

As it was, when I asked him if it would be acceptable for me to travel to the mortal town with his party, he had simply answered, "Yes. You may come," and not a word beyond that.

I was grateful to have Tauriel and Feren as company at the palace. They were becoming dear friends, though one of them spent a good deal of time in the woods, while Feren was frequently with his king.

Still, despite their comradery, I was feeling lonely, and I realized, with no small sense of dismay, that I had come to view the king as a friend, and his shift in attitude toward me felt painful.

At our speed, it took us only half a day to break through the forest, and thankfully with no event.

The city, called Parinway, was just outside the shadow of the Lonely Mountains, and there were many Woodman there today, crowding the ports with their trade and pouring forth from inns and brew houses.

The king dismounted his horse and Feren followed him up the steps of a larger building, which I assumed to be the center of their governing. Tauriel and I waited with the other elves, until she said, "We are free to look about, if you wish. We might watch the ships come in..."

"Oh, yes," I said eagerly, getting down from my own horse and following her through the hoard towards the piers.

We stopped upon one and Tauriel nodded at a distantly approaching boat with several stern looking guards upon its deck. "That one carries gold," she said.

"Yes, the guards..."

"That's right."

"And that one is pretending to bring trinkets....but look closely at the bottom of one of the barrels."

I gazed closely at it, and noted the finest of leaves barely poking forth through a slat in the wood. Mortal eyes would never have detected it.
But mine were not mortal eyes. "A plant?"

"Mhm," she said, grinning. "They bring some weeds for smoking."

"Why do they hide them? Smoking weed is common amongst men."

"Certain kinds are outlawed here. Take whatever that one is, for instance," she said, nodding at the boat.

"I see," I said, laughing a little. "Oh, I like this game. What else?"

And we went on this way for a little while, observing the portsmen and their wares, noting the subtleties of their interactions that would have slipped beyond mortal observation.

I did not get to interact much with mortals, and their lively, animated nature was endearing to me.

Their smell, however, left much to be desired. And it did not help that piles of fish lay about us everywhere.

"I am curious," I said. "How are you and Feren coming along?"

"Oh," she began, flushing. "He is...I am most happy."

"Are you? I had thought so. The way he looks upon you... it is love in his eyes, for certain."

"He has declared as much," she said.

"Aah," I smiled. "And do you return his ardor?"

"I do. Though I will admit to having been a bit oblivious at first. Only that he won me over with his dry wit. And he is...more passionate than he appears."

"Well, it is always the quiet ones," I said, smirking and raising an eyebrow. "I should be tempted to tease him about that, for I owe him a cummupance, but I shall not, for your sake..."

"Thank you, My Lady."

After a while like this, watching the shipmen and talking of life in Mirkwood, Tauriel said, "we ought be getting back."

"All right."

"But shall we stop for some of the baker's bread on the way? It's very good."

"Yes, please."

We had passed a shop emitting a lovely smell of baking on our walk to the ports, and here we stopped again over its table of goods, Tauriel offering some coins for a fresh looking loaf.

"It is my honor," said the old baker, staring at us dazedly. "You are most beautiful," he said, his face splotching with red.

"Why thank you, Sir," she said. "And your breads smell lovely."

He blushed more deeply still and I laughed quietly to myself. Mortal men did often find Elvish maids to be attractive. It was quite flattering, especially considering that I had felt utterly unremarkable to certain eyes as of late. At least the baker did not ignore me.

We thanked him, and carried on our way toward the governor's building, though the king had yet to emerge from it. The other elves were not present, either. "They have probably gone inside with Feren and the king," said Tauriel. "Do you wish to join them?"

"Oh, no. I should like to stay out of doors. I am enjoying it so much... but, please, do go inside," I said, realizing that she might have desired to see Feren.

"Are you certain?"

"Oh yes, completely," I offered.

So she entered the building and I meandered about the immediate square, watching some children playing with their toys upon the ground, and laughing as a monger's wife hit him about the head with a fish for having said something particularly off-colored.

I did enjoy the mortals, or at least, some of them.

The sound of a bell rang from the door at the brewhouse nearby and four men stumbled out, quite without faculty.

I watched them carefully, hit with a sudden sense of unease as they looked in my direction.

Then one smiled and nodded to his friends, and they began crossing the road towards me. I did not know whether to move or not, for what if I was being unreasonable and they were merely headed to a destination by which I stood.

Unfortunately, the destination they had in mind was me.

"Well, I saw you was lookin' at us," said the one man. "A mighty fine Elven lady like yourself...you are a specimen," he said, circling me. I stood frozen, discerning the best way to handle this.

"I...I am waiting for my party. They are just inside the house of governance," I said, trying not to sound afraid and wishing I had carried some sort of weapon upon me.

"Well, then why don't we keep you company while you wait, " said the man, and his friends laughed in agreement. "Such a face." He reached up with a dirty hand to brush my cheek and I recoiled.

"Do not touch me."

"Oh, oh, she has bite, boys!" he mocked, his breath wreaking of liquor. "And see here...she thinks she's too good for the likes of us."

"I do not wish to be touched by a stranger...and a drunken one at that," I said, angrily.

"You do not wish to be...you hear that boys?" He turned to his friends. "She does not wish to be touched."

"I do not. And if you do not back away from me at once I shall..." What would I do...run away? I was certainly faster than them, but was I stronger? They encircled me.

"Now, we was just being friendly, and you, I think you're awfully rude," said the man, pointing a finger in my face. "Too uppity for a little conversion."

"I do not desire your company," I said, moving to push past the smallest of them, but their leader reached out to grab my hair and I gasped to feel the scratch of his rough-edged ring upon my face.

I did not have a chance to speak when, suddenly, fast as a flash of light, a blade had sliced the man's cheek, then the other, and the other, and the other, quicker than they could fathom what was happening. And as they stood, gape-mouthed and cowering, King Thranduil loomed over them with sword in hand, holding the shirt of the man who had cut me. His other elves were behind him.

The king wore a look so dark and terrible it might have set me to crying, had it been directed at me, and as it was, the four men looked close enough to tears.

"L...ah ah ah Lord Thranduil," sputtered the main mortal. Everyone here would know the great Elvenking.

"It seems," began King Thranduil through his teeth, "that you have laid hands upon my elf."

"I..." Again the man sputtered. "Forgive me. I am drunk. I...I was a fool."

The king flipped his sword around and sliced smoothly the mortal's other cheek, and in turn, the man shook and began to cry.

Then My Lord bent over the man, still shaking with anger. "Consider yourself lucky that I did not aim for your throat," he growled, snapping back to his full height again. "Get out of my sight."

The men scampered off, terrified, and the king turned to me.

I watched him warily as he approached me, taking hold of my face where the ring had left its mark. "Vile creatures," he muttered. "Come. We shall clean off their filth."

So I followed him to our horses and from my bag I retrieved some items for cleansing.

My hands were shaking as I poured water onto a cloth, and then another pair of hands, much stronger and steadier, stilled them, taking the cloth and the water away from me and wetting it thoroughly.

King Thranduil lifted the cloth to my face, dabbing softly at the cut. "Do you have your Lorien sap, for disinfecting..."

I nodded. "It is in the jar," I said, pleased that he had remembered what I'd said about its uses. "But I am sure it will be fine, My Lord."

Nevertheless, he took a small dab upon his finger and spread it over the little gash. I winced at the sap's sting, but knew it was only doing its job.

His hands were remarkably gentle, for an elf who had just sliced the faces of four men in one instant. And his face had entirely changed. The murderous look from moments earlier was gone, and was replaced by softer eyes and parted lips.

When he had finished, he said to all of us, "We shall leave this foul place now."

So we mounted our horses and left the city, my cheek still stinging a bit from the medicine, and tingling at the memory of the king's tenderness.

---

After what had happened in the mortal city, I felt relieved to be back in Mirkwood.

I knew that some mortal men were good. Some might even be great. But I was not impressed with them this day.

They had used their drunkenness as an excuse for reprehensible actions. But our elves, even at their most compromised by wine, would never have behaved in such a way. It seemed men had a long way to go in the improvement of their characters.

The hour was deep into the night, and I was restless with my thoughts. They kept returning to the mortal men, the deadly look upon the king's face, the gentleness of his fingers, the softness of his face as he cleaned my own.

"Oh, but I need a walk," I said aloud to myself, and left my chamber for the gardens.

I passed the wild growing flowers and a mossy statue and then the largest leafy alcove, wherein something caught my eye. Or rather someone.

The king sat upon a bench inside, staring off to the side, with hands clasped upon his lap. He was deep in thought. The little orange lights cast strange leafy shadows upon him.

I did not wish to disturb him, and so I moved to pass quickly and quietly. But I heard my name.

"Lady Laewyn."

I doubled back and peaked into the leafy cave. "My Lord. I did not wish to disturb you."

"You are not. Come," he nodded to the bench beside him, "join me.... if that is amenable to you."

"Of course," I said, and I sat down beside him in the half dark.

"How is your face?" he asked.

"It does not hurt much. It is only a small cut. I need not even heal it."

"Yes. Good. But upon that subject, Lady Laewyn...I...I wish to say that I am not proud at having lost my temper with you as I did, that day in the hall. Your intent did not warrant it. I am sorry."

"Oh." I was too shocked to speak, at first. The king had apologized. "Well, it is only that I worried you disliked me now. You have been...quiet."

"I have. But not only with you. I am caught within my mind, sometimes. I struggle with this."

"And something I said put you there...didn't it."

He did not answer.

I sighed. I had caused him a harm, and that saddened me, though I could not understand how.

So I sat beside him on the bench in silence, watching the flowers sway with a breeze in the moonlight just outside our canopy.

Then I said, "I do not know the inner workings of your mind, My Lord. I only know that you have your own thoughts, and that your experiences shape you. I would not judge you harshly."

"Then that makes one of us," he said. "For I would judge myself very harshly were I you. Still you would not with regards to me. A Healer's empathy?" he said.

"I suppose. But also that you are my king, and I...I care about you."

We sat again in silence and I listened to the water of the fountain nearby, and the rustling of the leaves. "I know that I have not been an elf of your kingdom for very long, nor have you known me as such. I am aware that your trust is not readily given. But, still I wish to say that, should you need to unburden your heart, My Lord...I am glad to listen. I would keep it, always, in confidence."

"You would give ear to a king...you know not what you ask."

"I think that I do," I said, grasping that, with him, whatever he carried, it would be no light burden. And I was no stranger to these things.

He said nothing for a very long while. And I did not move a muscle nor even breathe too loudly, for I had a fear that he might up and leave.

Then, finally, "I practiced it a little once, healing," he said. "My wife, she was very good at it. She tried to teach me, but I had little interest. I was more concerned with the swing of a sword and the whistle of an arrow. And I wished her to be, as well."

I nodded, holding my tongue. I knew he would continue. He stared into nothingness, at something only he could see.

"My wife was taken prisoner in Gundabad. She was...I fought my way to her, but, her spirit was too far from me.

I could swing a sword, Lady Laewyn, and I could shoot an arrow. But," he paused, "what they had done to her... my arrows could not save her from that. Nor could my blade."

Oh. No, I thought. They had tortured her.

"The only thing that might have healed her were the skilled hands of grace. And in my desperation, I attempted it. I laid hands upon her," he said, and I could see that he was there, he was there with her in that moment again. "I laid hands upon her and I spoke the words she taught me. But I had not practiced them. My skill was not enough. And instead of her coming back to me, I let her die in my arms. I failed her. I failed her in her most needful hour."

"My Lord."

"The more skilled healer...like you...may have brought her back, but instead she was cursed with a husband who was useless to her when she needed him most. I...I cannot bring myself to lay hands upon another."

"You are afraid it will not work..."

"I am afraid that it will. And if I can save another this way, then I could have saved her, as well. And I cannot bear it."

His pain struck my heart in a deep way I could not comprehend. I wanted to tell him she was there--that she had seen him and his suffering and his effort, and she did not blame him for it. I wanted to tell him this, for in my own heart I felt it was true. But of course I had no place, and so I said simply, "I think I understand, Your Grace."

"Do you," he said blankley, in a way suggesting I did not.

I gathered my thoughts and my memory, for he had been most vulnerable with me. And now I would do the same for him, in hopes that he might know that I did, indeed, understand.

"Five-hundred years ago, in Lorien," I began, "my sister...she was...I had raised her as my own. Our parents had fallen together in the battle of Great Oaks. She was only a little elfling, a tiny child. I was of age, and so I took her in. I cared for her as my own daughter. I loved her as my own child. But, when she was old enough, and against my pleading, she joined the armies of Lothlorien. In this way, she felt she might avenge our parents, you see.

But, in one such battle as had taken our mother and father, in a place just outside our lands, Orcs stabbed Helinith, many times," I said, and though I held my voice steady, tears fell. "Many times by Orcs she was struck... outside the forests of Lothlorien, her little body..." I stopped to gain control of my faltering emotions, but only half manged it. "I rushed upon horseback to the place she had fallen. But by the time I reached her, she was gone.

Yet...I tried, My Lord. I tried anyway. I had knelt beside her and tried, for hours I tried. The soldiers pleaded with me to stop, I would not. I kept thinking, it might be the next minute. The next minute my prayers might work and she would spring back to life. I could not stop for it might be the very. next. minute. And this went on and on until finally the Marchwarden, himself, had to drag me away from her, crying screaming and begging them to let me return. But they knew that she was gone. Her spirit had crossed to the halls of Mandos. Rebirth alone would bring her back.

Yet, if I had been there sooner, or if I had only kept trying, in my mind, the very next moment might have saved her. And for that reason, I became determined that I should be a master healer. And every life I lay hands upon, every spirit I bring back from the brink, every pull of air that fills the lungs of one nearly dead, whether male or female, young or old, it is her. It is always her," I said, riddled with emotion now, but I did not care. "And you...you teach your soldiers to fight with such ferocity and exhaustive skill it is near insanity. More, by far, than any Kingdom or leader I have ever encountered. For every one of your elves that can fight...that saves themselves..."

"It is her," he finished.

"...Yes. It is her. Though it will never be enough. It will never fix what once was broken. And yet you keep trying, for you cannot stop. I understand, My Lord. And I am so sorry. I am so sorry."

I hung my head there, sniffling and breathing deeply, wanting very much to take control of myself in front of my stoic king. Then I felt his hand upon mine, squeezing it gently, before he removed it and clasped his own hands together again.

"We are not so different, you and I," he said.

"No. No, My Lord. We are not."

I sniffed back the last of my tears, and my breaths calmed in the stillness of the glowing dark.

"Lady Laewyn, if I haven't made this clear as of yet, I am glad you came to my kingdom."

I did not respond for a moment, for I wanted to be sure that my next words were true. Then I told him, "As am I. And I would...I would fight for your kingdom, My Lord."

I would fight for you.