The King's Heart (Thranduil Fanfiction)

Chapter 50

(Rhovanel)

I wipe the sweat from my face with the back of my hand. The forge is especially steamy today, but I don't mind. The winter has been harsh on the mountain, so I'll take a walk after I finish melting the steel.

I pour the molten metal into the sword cast. That was always the hardest part, getting the mold right. It had taken several days to shave the cast iron down to a relatively smooth surface and in the sleek shape I designed for Thranduil. It is very similar to the one he has now, but my design will be more aerodynamic and lighter. Not to mention the added magic I'll enchant it with when its done.

For Annoneth, I went with strong, light blades. They will have bronze grips and small gaps in the metal in repeating infinity signs. The curve of Annoneth's blades will be less flowing than Thranduil's, but no less effective. These will be more for close range fighting than for a war.

Legolas's blades will be white knives, a new type for me. The metal is quick to cool and slow to melt, but it will be stronger than any orc or dwarf weapon. The grips will be carved golf, polished and preserved to keep a brilliant shine.

As the liquid steel settles into the mold, I set my tools down and walk back into the main living space of the cave. Gandalf left yesterday, but gave me tips on the incantations I was preparing for the blades. The room was still a mess, nothing from the floor has moved, but at least some table space exists, until I finish the blades.

At the rate I am working, I will finish the blades in less than one month. I have not decided if it is better to go back to Thranduil or continue my solitude yet. Gandalf recommended that I return to Thranduil's realm and settle down there. I would not argue if not for the danger that I am.

As soon as I heard that Umon is the mastermind behind this twisty plot, I fled. Thranduil does not deserve the wrath Umon holds for me. It is not my fault he lost the fight. If only he saw it that way. When he accused me of cheating, I lost it. I gave him every opportunity to fix his shattered pride, but then he went to my brother and gave the impression that I was a problem child, and my dad overheard. After I was handed my punishment, I made sure no elf would ever side with Umon again.

Umon has not forgiven me for telling Lothlórien his special problem, but I don't really care. I just wish he would come after me directly, not after anyone I was ever close to.

I sat down and nibbled some of the lembas bread that I kept stored in the back. My thoughts continuously drifted to Thranduil. His voice, the way he would look at me. I missed him; I missed him more than anything, even my mother.

My mind reran the day she died at least once a day.

"Rhovanel! Rhovanel come quickly!" my older brother screams. I leap from my bed and sprint down the hall and up the stairs. My brother is waiting for me at the top. I can see the tears streaming down his face from here. I push my legs harder.

"It's mother, isn't it?" I cry. Harthor nods as we sprint to mother's bedroom. She is stretched across the mattress, sweat drenching the sheets. Father is holding his head in his hands and sitting beside her. He leaves with a flourish the moment I say nana. I curse Umon for ruining my already fragile relationship with my father.

I snort in disgust and then sit next to my mother. She is burning up and shivering at the same time. The Tree Fever has not claimed an elf in my lifetime. The extra adrenaline has only progressed the disease, devastating her chance for survival. Harthor sits on the other side and takes nana's hand, disregarding the glares of the healers.

"Nana, please. You have to keep fighting," he cries.

"Oh, ion nîn, I have fought for too long as it is. My time is ending, but I want you both to know that I will never stop loving you. Not when death takes me to the next world, not ever. You need to be strong for your Ada, he is taking this harder than he should," she says.

After a long fit of coughing, she continues, "Harthor, you must keep up with your studies. Belegnaer will not pressure you with them as I once did. And keep practicing your archery, you will need it someday." Then she turns to me and I start sobbing. "Shhhhh, Rhovanel, you are the elleth of the house now. Keep your Ada and your muindor (brother) strong. They will need your wisdom and guidance more than you might think," she smiles weakly. "I know you have not had the time to learn all the wonderful things I meant to teach you, but Galadriel has promised to teach you if you ask." She starts coughing again, but she does not stop like she did after the last fit. The healer rush over and shove my brother and I out the door. Harthor throws himself against the door, screaming and crying while I sob in the corner.

The trees are particularly beautiful today, but I do not notice the chirping birds and sickly-sweet scent of pollen. Harthor grips my elbow and pulls me into his chest where I can cry with comfort. He grips my back and pulls until I can't breathe. It is the most calming thing I know, something that only my brother can do. After a moment of suffocation, I tap his shoulder and he releases me.

"Hannon le, muindor," I whisper.

"You're welcome, Rho. I will miss her."

"I shall miss her comforting words when ada screams at me. Why, again, did you tell him all those terrible things? You know they are not true-"

"Do I know that? Do I know that you do not participate in secret fights? Do I know that you do not beat other elves for entertainment?"

"Harthor, you know I am not capable of beating other elves-"

"The bruises Umon showed me tell a different tale," he snaps.

"If I went to secret fights, do you think I would have invited you? You can beat any elf in Lothlórien-"

"Rho, stop. This is not the time or place to be bickering like penneths. Help me with the door." I sigh and start kicking the door. Harthor is stepping back and ramming his shoulder against the hard wood over and over. On the fourth attempt, the door opens just as he arrives at it and he can't slow his momentum in time to avoid running face-first into the wall opposite the door. I hear nana laugh quietly.

I run over to the bed and throw myself into her arms. She holds me close until Harthor jumps in on the other side. Nana wraps her arm around his shoulders and we stay like that until her chest ceases to rise and fall.

I gasp out of my flashback when there is a banging at the entrance. I grab a knife and throw open the door. Annoneth is leaning against the rock wall.

"They are coming, you must flee," she whispers before falling into my arms. That is when I notice the blood pouring from her back.