The Fountain

The warm light of spring filtered through the trees, bringing the joy of the new season with it. Fresh green leaves had burst their buds, the breeze caressed them with the gentleness of a long-missed lover. The jubilant song of birds echoed after they danced from branch to branch. Nest building and preparing for the new life that was coming. The first flowers were pushing through the thawing ground, although they were not yet in bloom, the promise of colour as there.

Thranduil was sure that this was his favourite time of year. All the seasons had merits, even the depths of winter, but with new life blooming all around it was hard to remember the joys of other times of the year. The dappled sunlight hit his face, warming it and bringing a smile to his lips. As he walked along the stone path to the formal garden, he couldn’t help running his hand over the low hedge. It was still wet with the morning dew, but he didn’t mind. Everything felt so clean and clear, so fresh and new.

At the centre of the garden was a small waterfall that had fashioned into a fountain. The stone had been carved by his hand, many years ago. It wasn’t beautiful, in his mind it was rather crude, but Ellerian had insisted they kept it. He’d installed a bench underneath an arbour, and then trained climbing plants up and over the wood. His lovely wife had made sure flowers decorated the broken stone path; in the summer, it would be awash of colour.

He settled himself on the stone bench and contented himself with listening to the music around him. The gentle tickle of the fountain, the distant birdsong and the rush of the wind in the trees. He loved this place. Not just this secret place but the forest. It wasn’t Doriath, but that hadn’t been the intention when they created this place. This was theirs, a simpler, easier way of life away from the expectation on anyone else. It wasn’t paradise, but it was close.

Footsteps brought him out of his reverie and he looked up. His smile widened and he rose to his feet. “Meleth,” he said.

She took his hands and returned the smile, “You look tired,” she said.

He leaned in and kissed her lips. “Your loveliness does much to restore me,” he said. “How is he?” he asked.

“Resting, finally,” she said.

She was as lovely as the spring day; the dappled light caressed her skin. Her hair shone auburn in the sun and her eyes danced. The smile on her face was different somehow. Catching her chin in his palm, he tilted her head to face him.

“What is all this? You have something you want to say?” he asked. She squeezed his hand and sat down beside the fountain. She drew him down with him and laughed.

“I cannot hide anything from you,” she said.

Thranduil frowned. “You never tried.”

“And I wouldn’t,” she said. She took his hands again, her eyes met his. They were dancing, jubilant. She laughed again and shook her head. “If you could see your face right now. Don’t look so scared!”

“I’d not look so scared-“ She silenced him with a kiss, and his mind eased. Whatever it was couldn’t be awful, she was laughing after all. As always, she seemed to melt his cares away. Endless questions faded into nothing and her hand touched his cheek. He covered it with his and twisted to kiss her palm. “Do you remember the last time we sat here like this?” she said.

“Just the two of us?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He thought for a moment. It had been a while. Since Legolas had come into their lives, they’d been very busy with bringing him up. It had only been a few years, and he was growing quickly. He caused a great deal of mischief and delight to both of them. Thranduil loved that little elfling more than anything, he had made them both so happy.

“It was when you told me about Legolas,” he said.

She took one of his hands and placed it on her stomach, “You’re going to be a father, again.” His heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened and his fingers pressed into the fabric of her dress. All he could hear was the gentle tinkle of the water and the thudding of his heart. “Are you alright?” she asked. Her hand covered his and she smiled up at him.

“So soon?”

“We have spent centuries waiting for these days, why wait any longer?” she said. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders; she leaned against him, her small frame warm. “I know you don’t want Legolas to be an only child like we were, it seemed right to have them all close together.”

 “You’re right. Legolas is going to be so happy.”

“We can’t tell him yet,” she said. He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. “I want us to enjoy this for a while, just us. We can do that for a bit.”

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.” She looked up to him with that big smile of hers. How could he ever love another when she looked at him like that? She was his world, she made him feel that no matter how difficult or distressing he found the kingship, he could handle it. He had no idea what he would do without her. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. He was going to be a father again, he could feel his heart swelling at the thought. He couldn’t wait to meet this new being they had created together. He smiled and kissed her again, content and at peace. How he was going to hide this he did not know; his smile would give him away, of that he was sure. He wouldn’t be able to keep that from his features, not for anyone in the world.