return of the noldor (thranduil x reader) - pt2

You gaze in awe at the architecture of Mirkwood’s palace, taking note of the golden lanterns that hang above your head – seemingly lit by magic – and the intricate designs carved within ornate wooden pillars. For weeks you had wandered through the caverns of Thranduil’s halls, and yet its beauty still entranced you. Sadly, you had never been to Menegroth, for that kingdom had been destroyed by your ancestors before you were born. The second kinslaying had in fact also brought an end to your grandfather’s life.

“Lady Draugeth?” Your thoughts are interrupted by a young Silvan elf. His proximity and courtesy surprise you, as most of the woodland elves had steered quite clear of you during your stay in Mirkwood thus far. From their timid glances and occasional glares, you could only assume that their avoidance was either out of fear due to your status as a High elf and the skills you exhibited preceding your capture, or out of malice caused by the long run Noldor-Sindar feud.

“The king would like to see you,” says the ellon. You nod in response and proceed to follow him along the winding paths that lead towards the main hall.

“Send forth the elleth,” you hear a low voice command, and you are led to climb the remainder of the steps until you reach the summit. This time, the Elvenking is not sitting, but rather pacing in front of his throne. He seems to be in a particularly irritable mood.

“As you have no doubt heard by now, my son has joined a fellowship tasked with the impossible quest to destroy the one ring,… forged to control the rings of power created by those of your kin.” His words are laced with such deep malevolence you have to refrain from wincing outwardly.

“So I am warning you, my patience wears thin, and you are but an unnecessary thorn in my side.” The king does not look to you as he speaks, and instead continues pacing. You wait calmly for him to continue.

“The lords of Rivendell and Lothlorien claim to know nothing of your past, believing you to be one of the few Noldorin exiles who has chosen life as a nomad instead of returning to Valinor,” Thranduil pauses and his next words are slow and deliberate, “Yet some of my council believe you to be a spy, sent by Lord Elrond, or perhaps Sauron himself, to retrieve information and sabotage the realm of Mirkwood.” He now turns to you, narrowing his eyes and studying you closely, as if to read the answers from your expression. You do your best to remain impartial.

“And what do you believe?” you ask the king, speaking out for the first time.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes. He did not like how she always managed to turn the tables and direct the questions back at him. Her face remained neutral and serene, and there was a light in her eyes that he could not explain, but somehow it convinced him that there was no way she could be working for the dark lord Sauron.

“It would not be the first time Elrond has deceived me,” the Elvenking declares.

“You think the Lord of Rivendell would risk inducing a fourth kinslaying, during a time like this?”

A flash of anger reaches Thranduil’s eyes as he leans forward to glare at you, “You dare speak of the kinslayings as if it were not your own kind who caused such pain and anguish?” His nostrils flare violently.

“I know what my kind did,” you say, letting the shame and regret seep into your voice.

“Do you? If it were not for them, my son’s life would not be at risk right now!” You can hear the fear in his voice and see the worry in his eyes, and it causes a familiar pang of guilt to arise within you.

“The Noldorin lords made some very poor decisions in their time, and I do not intend to defend them. But there is nothing I can do to turn back the clock or unforge the rings.”

Pausing to recompose himself, the king concedes, “You’re right, there is nothing you can do on that front. But now that all of my guards have healed, how do you propose to pay for the damage you caused here?”

You had of course prepared for this question, “I have no gems or jewels to offer, nothing of value to you or your kingdom, but I come from a line of fine smiths and warriors,” you begin, “As I'm sure you know, a great war is coming; it is only a matter of time. I can help your guards and warriors prepare.” In truth, you also want the opportunity to fashion some new weaponry of your own, since all of yours had been either confiscated upon your arrival or lost within the deep woods during your capture.

Her words had a ring of truth to them, and they were wrought with nothing but reason. The offer seemed genuine enough, and he could not deny that she had proven herself to be vastly more skilled than most of his guards in the art of combat, nor that a treacherous battle was upon them. Thranduil saw no major reason to decline, although he would be sure to keep a close eye on Draugeth to ensure that she did not intend to cause any mischief.

“Very well then. I will grant you access to train the warriors, but this does not mean you are permitted to leave the halls for any other purpose. Are we understood?”

“Yes,” you reply curtly. The king nods to dismiss you, but as you begin to walk away, you linger for a moment, frowning at the ground, “If I may add, it does not do to dwell on what could be,” you say, unsure if Thranduil will understand that you are referring to his concern for Legolas.

To your surprise, the king swiftly replies, “And what would you suggest I do instead?”

“Have faith in the son you raised. Keep your spirits high, and focus only on what you can do to help bring an end to this darkness,” you lower your gaze for a moment before adding, “If Legolas is anything like I’ve heard, I am sure he will be fine, and perhaps even return victorious.”

“And what exactly have you heard of my son?”

“Only that he is humble and brave. And though his years may be but few in the life of an elf, he is one of the best bowmen of our kin. And most importantly, that his spirits are not easily quelled, not even by you,” you add with a small smile.

“How do you know all of this?” the Elvenking demands.

“Merely through simple observation. Your people speak highly of you and your son, though they may be a bit disheartened at times by your distant demeanor. Those who have been under your ruling for long have learned to appreciate your vigilance and formidable form in times of danger like these, but they can also see past the mask of indifference when necessary.” You turn to look him straight in the eyes as you speak your next words, “You do not fool them, King Thranduil, and you do not fool me either.”

It did not escape Thranduil that this was the first time she had ever addressed him as King.