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“Here you are.”
Glancing over their shoulder, Calithilben smiled. “Here I am, have you been looking for me, Sweet King?”
“Perhaps.” As always he didn’t acknowledge the small pet name, only uttered out of ear shot from others. Careful not to tread on any flowers, Thranduil made his way over to them, kneeling on the curling grass. “What are you doing out here so late? It’s cold, I do not wish for you to catch a chill.”
“I wanted to admire your flowers, this garden is wonderful,” Calithilben took their time caressing a delicate petal of a white flower, “the stars and moon are, as always, stunning and I wished to see them too.”
Whilst Thranduil did not look to the silvery moon or encompassing stars, he still said, “they are.”
Together they admired the flowers and the sky. Each bloom stole away their attention, wandering hands stroking each silken petal, a deep affection for the forest and each other tingling at the end of their fingertips. Occasionally their hands would brush against each other, quickly hurrying away to find a new flower. Though Calithilben stole glances at their King, smile deepening each time.
This small dance had been played for a while, skirting around their feelings in front of the court. Moments were stolen in secret, far from the prying eyes and ears of others. Far from judgement and rumours. Here Thranduil could be more open, more honest with how deep his feelings had spread. It was brief, but the two of them cherished these meetings.
“This garden is special to me, I am glad you accepted my offer to visit it as you wish,” whispered Thranduil, at last threading his fingers with Calithilben’s. “Being here suits you.”
“You think so?”
“Yes.” He gently pushed them back against the grass, his palm on their lower back, the only brace against completely tumbling over. “The stars and the flowers suit you, my Wildheart.”
Bracing their hands on his shoulders, Calithilben blushed. “I think the flowers suit you more,” one hand absently traced up his neck, “King of the Forest. They’d make a good addition to your crown.”
Physical affection amongst Elves was a rarity, but with Calithilben he had come to treasure it. He leaned into the warmth of their palm, “your name means moonlight, how fitting, you shine just as brightly. Perhaps you could be my moon and stars, if you’d like that.”
“I very much would.”
Together they stayed, blanketed by the twinkling sky and wrapped amongst the surrounding song of nature. Though a chill traipsed through the night air, they couldn’t feel it, heat rippling from every scrap of affection. But they both craved more. They wanted to give and receive more.
“I love you,” Thranduil murmured, eyes closing whilst his hand lay on Calithilben’s chest, “and it terrifies me.” Beneath his palm their heart fluttered in response, similar to that of a birds wingbeat.
His own ached in turn.
“Calithilben?” Despite their obvious mutual attraction, Thranduil was prepared to be pushed an arms length away. What he was not prepared for was a smile far brighter than the circling stars, it made their eyes shine. They were stunning.
“Wicked King,” they said shyly, resting their hand atop his, “you stole my heart too.”
Spreading his fingers so that Calithilben could lace their own between his, Thranduil leaned in closer. “Do wish to have it back?”
“No, I trust you.”
He closed the distance between them, cradling Calithilben to his chest. “And I trust you with mine.”