Part two: The Proposal

The welcome sounds of elvish laughter and sweet music filtered through the trees, guiding Thranduil to his destination, the clearing favoured by the Silvan folk for their nightly revelry. The Wood Elves were possessed of carefree spirits, in love with life as well as their forests and all that dwelled within the natural world and it was of no consequence to the Sinda noble that some considered Elisiel’s kin to be in some way lesser Elves for he considered himself to be a kindred spirit and eagerly embraced their uninhibited way of life. Many a night he could be found, clad in only a loose shirt and leggings, his feet bare and his golden tresses unbraided and unruly as he danced gaily around the fire with his beloved.

As the merrymakers came in sight, Thranduil kept to the shadows of the trees and allowed himself a moment to observe Elisiel who was laughing merrily as she danced with the children as she always did whenever Thranduil was not present. One day he had asked Elisiel why she refused the many offers he was certain were made to partner her, and his heart had almost burst with love and humility when she explained that her love for him ran so deep and true that she could not bear to allow another’s touch, even one as innocent as during a dance.

The sound of a small child crying caught Thranduil’s attention and he cast his eyes in the direction of the commotion to see that a boy, a child of uncommon fairness, had fallen and scraped his knee during the dance and had promptly been scooped into Elisiel’s lap. The little one looked adoringly up at her as she dried his tears and tended his wound and when she had finished the child hugged her fiercely about the neck and kissed her cheek before rejoining his friends.

Thranduil stood unmoving, totally mesmerised by the heart warming scene and felt as if he was being granted a glimpse of a future he had not yet considered. Not only would he take Elisiel as his wife, but she would be the mother of any children they were to be blessed with and, judging by the look of longing in her eyes, it was a role she dearly wished to assume.

“Aye, my daughter is fond of the little ones,” said a voice close to Thranduil’s ear causing him to turn sharply to face Elisiel’s father who had approached without making a sound. He and his wife had arrived late to the evening’s merrymaking and had exchanged a knowing smile when they espied Thranduil standing alone and dressed with unusual elegance.

“How did you know I was thinking that, my lord,” Thranduil asked, placing his hand on his heart in the manner of greeting. Elisiel’s father was not a noble, but was addressed as such by Thranduil who used the title out of respect for one he esteemed highly.

“It was plainly written on your face for all to see. Of course, proposing marriage is the first step to becoming a father, as I recall.” he replied with an affectionate smile.  Thranduil accepted the teasing graciously, for it was often thus between Elisiel’s father and himself.

“Which is obviously his intention, I assume, dressed as he is in such formal finery. I think it is unlikely he is here to simply join in the merrymaking,” said Elisiel’s mother as she stepped up to Thranduil and kissed his cheek before turning her attention to the embroidery on his tunic. “Caille has much skill with the sewing needle.”

“Thank you, I will tell her you said so,” Thranduil said smiling indulgently as Elisiel’s mother straightened a few imaginary creases in the fabric. Satisfied that all was in order, she took her husband’s arm. “I expect you wish for some private time with Elisiel so please wait here and I will send her to you. Come, my love, shall we continue on to the festivities?”

“As you wish,” Elisiel’s father replied, pausing to offer a wink of encouragement before he dutifully escorted his wife into the clearing, for now that the moment was at hand, it was easy to see how unsettled the king’s son had become.

Thranduil watched with increasing nervousness as the couple approached their daughter, whose happiness at hearing her lover had arrived shone in her eyes as she cast her gaze in his direction. With a quick kiss for both her parents, Elisiel gathered her skirts and ran to the arms that were held out in loving invitation. Caring not who could see them, they greeted each other with the most  tender of kisses, then hand in hand left the clearing, heading by unspoken agreement to the secret glade they called their own.

“Why did you not join us in the clearing? I sensed you watching me from afar,” Elisiel told him as she melted into the embrace of her beloved.

“Did you? Then you must know I was enjoying watching you with the child,” Thranduil replied as his lips tasted the soft skin of Elisiel’s neck.

“And you were imagining he was our son,” she whispered into his ear, her warm breath on the sensitive sending shivers of delight right through Thranduil’s body.

“Aye,” he replied huskily before fervently claiming her lips.

“So was I.” All nervousness vanished at the implications in the softly spoken words and without further thought Thranduil gazed into the eyes that were the doorway to the other half of his heart and soul voiced the reason for his visit.

“Then bind with me in marriage, be my wife, my lover, the mother of my children. I love you, Elisiel, with all that I am and forever,” he said as he placed the betrothal ring on her finger.

“The only answer possible is yes, for without you I am nothing. I love you Thranduil now and forever,” she replied as she did the same with the simple silver band he handed her.

For a moment they stood and simply gazed into each other’s eyes, and then with exquisite tenderness, Thranduil bent to claim Elisiel’s lips. As the kiss to seal their vows became ardently passionate, he smiled inwardly, recalling Oropher’s words in the moment before they both became lost in their need for more.

“Indeed, Adar, this one kiss will definitely lead to many others before the night is draws to an end.”