Another Darkness:

Chapter 10: Scars

Weeks past like this, Ithil would train with Thranduil in using her other magic every third day. Then she would practice on unsuspecting elves, making them do menial tasks. In her free time she would spend time with her human friends and the Dwarf with the surprising wit.

Ithil was already on her way to the cabin for the day. She had decided in the last few weeks to forego the expensive elf silk gowns for her usual leather armour, due to the sheer amount of falling, passing out and trekking through the forest. Unfortunately, this magic had her worn out most of the time, if she spent too much, she would collapse for a few hours. Sometimes, Thranduil will evoke the wrong response, and her offensive magic will come out, Thranduil only just managing to evade or block the magic most of the time, but occasionally, he got hit. So, both of them settled on simpler clothes.

Nothing transpired like it did that first day. Thranduil had learned not to take the magic onto himself, and Ithil had learned to keep him out of the circle. His presence would amplify her abilities, but the price is that he would also become tired.

She came across the cabin to find Thranduil was already there, leaning against the wall of the cabin with an apple in hand. It had never truly sunk in how in tune the elves were with nature. Thranduil had never looked more at peace than when he was simply taking in the scenery, surrounded by his forest. He looked almost. Normal. He bit into the apple and the juice ran down his chin. He wiped it absent minded, as he did, his eyes caught Ithil's as she drew closer.
"Finally here, I see?"
"Well, if you didn't, I would be concerned," Ithil retorted with a smirk. Thranduil was silent for reply.
"We should start," Ithil urged, going past his lean frame and into the cabin. Thranduil took another bite of his apple and threw it into the forest for another animal to finish. Ithil turned to the Elven king as he entered.
"So, what are we doing this session?" Thranduil sighed.
"Same as before," he told her, he moved across the room and leant on the wall. Something about the way he was acting made her think he was off somewhere else in his mind. She moved to the centre of the ring and sat on the ground, legs folded and arms relaxed. Her mind drew inwards and her body became obsolete. She was in the deepest part of her mind. She supposed it was easier than most. Given that she didn't have most of her memories. She gripped the magic within her and gently ushered in out.

Thranduil watched her take up her position on the ground. She withdrew into herself eerily fast. It made him wonder how long she had been alive. Age was something he was usually very good at guessing, yet, with her...she had the presence of a very old being, yet her mannerisms and wholeness with herself seemed that of a child at times. Yet, there were these times, where she seemed as old as time. Ithil began to glow as she usually did, each time she began glowing brighter, her colours began seeping through the usually white glow. Shades of orange and pink shifted through the light.

Suddenly, the routinely light display seemed to change. It was flaring red and black. Thranduil pushed off the wall and stepped closer. Ithil seemed to be under stress, her heartbeat was speeding and her skin was beginning to sheen with sweat. Her breath was faltered and erratic. Like she was having a nightmare.

"Ithil!" Thranduil called to her from the edge of the ring. She seemed unable to hear him. Throwing caution to the wind, Thranduil rushed into the circle, ignoring the magic that flooded him like a tidal wave. He dragged Ithil out of the ring and lent her against a dusty wall, he knelt beside her with worry on his face. Ithil's eyes flew open in panic, and the Ithrandur let out a scream that shook the elven king to the core. Her eyes were whipping around wildly, looking for danger. One of her hands gripped her treasured knife.
"Ithil," Thranduil soothed. Her eyes set onto his ice blue ones and she let out a sigh of relief.

Ithil looked at Thranduil and inexplicably felt calmer. She thought that she had once again put that experience with the dark elves behind her, but it was there, in the deepest part of her mind, hidden in the darkness amongst her fears. And it had taken the opportunity to rise again. Ithil focused on Thranduil's hand upon hers, easing the knife hand and taking it into his.
"What happened? That was the first time I've ever seen you react this way to meditation?"
"I had a...bad memory...come forth in my mind," she struggled to let out. Thranduil soothed her with his presence. Yet, it wasn't the typical feeling of her magic. It was pure comfort. The natural kind.
"This memory, what is it?" Thranduil asked softly. Ithil pushed his hand away and stood, stepping away from him so he would not see the tears in her eyes.
"I just...I had a bad experience in the woods to the south of Ensam, the city I lived in before I came to middle earth. That's all." Thranduil stepped up behind her.
"Ithil, talk to me. If we don't attend to this, then it may hinder your training." His voice sounded so soft, so unlike what he was usually like.
"I-I can't..." She stuttered. Thranduil's strong arms wrapped around her from behind, encasing her in a warm sunk back into his chest. His white blonde hair cascaded onto her pitch black hair in strange contrast.
"I...I had a run in with some Dark Elves...well, they're just another type of elf, aren't they? Except they're just...more violent." It didn't take Thranduil long to catch on and his embrace became tighter.
"You're safe with me," he whispered. He knew he was acting strangely. He had not been this affectionate with anyone since his wife. He release Ithil and turned her round to face him.
"Can I show you something?" Ithil wiped her tears away and nodded.
"You have shown me your scars, now, I'll show you mine..." he took in a deep breath and his face etched with pain. His face seemed to fade away on one side, taking away his glamour to show vicious burns on the left side on his face, trailing down beyond his clothing line. Ithil gasped and brought her hand up to gently touched the rough skin.
"Dragon fire," Thranduil informed her.
"How did it happen?" She asked. Thranduil sighed.
"Smaug. It was the same breath of fire that took my wife," he trailed off on a whisper. Ithil took her hand away.
"I...I didn't realize." She turned her face away. On the subject of Dragons, she was rather biased. Occasionally she would travel North of Ensam, into the furthest mountains, there she found an incredibly old Dragon name Ayaron who had taken a liking to her "shininess". They had become...friends, of sorts. Compared to Ayaron, Smaug was a Child is temper and size.

The two stood awkwardly, sharing their most darkest secrets when truly, they did not know one another. Ithil looked back up at Thranduil and did not see a king, she saw a man who had his love taken from him.
"Thank you, Thranduil." Ithil stepped forward and wound her arms around his neck, reaching as high as she could on her tippy-toes. The shock of the touch made Thranduil flinch at first, but soon, he settled his hands on the small woman's waist. What they felt between them at this point was not sexual desire, nor was it romantic. It was a deeper understanding of one another. It was... friendship, like Thranduil had not experienced in millennia. It was a kind of comfort that two beings got when their souls connected past the material veil. The two pulled away from each other and both realized the dynamic in their relationship had changed. It was more than either ever expected.
"Why is it, whenever I'm at my weakest, you're always there?" Ithil laughed softly.
"Maybe because you feel safe enough to?" Thranduil replied. The tall elf leant in and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead and then moved to the door. His masks and armour seemed to flood back to him.
"We will meet again in three days." He left the cabin. Ithil wondered whether what they just shared would be restricted to the cabin. Would he let his walls down when they were alone. Ithil could understand his need to keep them as he ran his kingdom. Still, she had to wonder.

Ithil made her way back to her chambers. She felt lighter than she had in months. She passed Vicor on the way to her rooms, flirting with a pretty elven girl. As she passed, Vicor smiled pleasantly at her and continued trying to chat up the Elith. They had become something like a brother and sister in their time at Mirkwood. Whenever being around elves became to much she would seek refuge with him and they would sit in the courtyard just telling jokes, or she would find Orma and spar with her. Voron she would often find looking suspicious around the kitchens, she supposed he was sneaking some elvish wine. Jorund she found in the library, they would never really talk, something about dwarves made her uneasy, especially knowing what they did to the Ithrandur, but still, she found herself in his company occasionally and they would just read in the library. Ithil had never though she would have so many friends. After all, only the dragon Ayaron had been her companion for so long. It's a hard thing to make friends in the North. Particularly in Ensam.

Either way, each of her newfound companions had a place in her heart, and now, so did Thranduil.

Dinner came, and so Ithil found herself sitting at the King's table as she usually did, as a King's guest. Thranduil came in, as usual and everyone stood in respect. Their eyes locked and for a moment, neither was sure how to react after what had happened earlier that day. After a moment, Ithil broke the tension, offering a small, soft smile. Along with it came a soft blush at her cheeks. Thranduil gave the softest smile back, and it truly was meant only for her. If she had not been looking for it, it would have remained unseen.

They sat across from one another and ate their meals, exchanging pleasantries with the others at the table, but their eyes would keep locking, like they shared some great secret that only the two of them knew. And in a way, that's what it was.
"Can I have a word with you after dinner?" Thranduil asked nonchalantly.
"Of course," Ithil replied.

After the feast, Ithil followed Thranduil as he left the hall. Once the pair had reached a little further into King's Halls. The lean elf turned back to look at Ithil.
"I'm afraid there is a spy amongst us, Ithil," he told her bluntly. Ithil frowned at him.
"A spy? Reporting what, to whom?"
"I am unsure, but I have a feeling it is about your progress."
"What makes you think this?" Ithil ran her fingers nervously through her hair.
"Elves have gifts of foresight, on occasion. To make sure, I want you to use your powers to extract information from my elves as to who it could be."
"I-I suppose. Yes, I will," Ithil felt her heart race as she remembered her vision of that dark being. You're the one I need. What did he need her for? Thranduil softly touched her shoulder.
"You will do fine, Ithil. The sooner we find the spy, the more we can repair." With that, he lightly kissed her forehead and strolled away.