Beauty and the Beast | Thranduil x Reader

Chapter 15

"We have been in this damn, cursed forest for two days!" Oeric cried, kicking at a large tree root that was sticking up from the ground beneath his dirty boots. He had followed your father and Vermund in here to look for you, though he didn't particularly care whether you were in town or you weren't. Still, he was one to blindly follow Vermund, not having it in him to say no to the other man.

"Come, Oeric. Keep your wits about you, we must be getting close." Vermund stated, though he was secretly frustrated himself as he eyed the back of your father's head in front of him.

"Keep my wits..." Oeric muttered darkly, scowling at the ground as he continued to put one foot in front of the other. He could barely see and his head felt all heavy, like some enormous weight was pressing down upon him, trying to bury him beneath these trees. "We'll be lucky if we last another night, we're running out of water."

"Ah, there's a river somewhere, I'm pretty sure." Vermund said loudly over his shoulder. He hadn't bothered to try and practice any stealth since coming into these woods, though he didn't really want to run into any of the Woodmen... or the elves, particularly, though he was mostly entertaining your father's delusions. He was pretty sure you were not with the elves. They would not have let your father go if they'd had him. Vermund was pretty sure your father was just losing his mind - he'd been cracking for years now in the eyes of the townspeople, and you'd been following in his footsteps with your ideas and your silly hobbies. He'd be sure to knock that out of you when he finally found and married you.

Your father, who had been frantically staring ahead of him trying to keep his mind steady, came to a sudden halt and whipped around at the words that had left Vermund's mouth. His thoughts took him back to the river he'd stopped to drink out of when he had gotten lost in these same woods. "No!" He practically shouted. "That river is cursed, you must not drink from it!" He insisted. "You will lose your mind!"

"Hey, hey. No need to shout, old man." Vermund held his hands up in mock defeat, really just wanting to strike the man across the face but that would only get in the way of his plans to take you as his wife. "It is only water, do not--"

"No!" Your father shouted again, desperation in his eyes, as he stepped forward and grabbed hold of the collar of Vermund's shirt to give him a shake. He had to understand that would only lead to madness! It had caused him to do things that he would never have done and he regretted hurting that fair-haired elf.

"Get your hands--" Vermund never finished his sentence because in the next moment, an arrow was aimed directly at his left eye and another was aimed at the back of Oeric's head.

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The library was silent and you kept shifting uncomfortably, fidgeting as you did your best to keep your gaze trained upon the book you were holding. You had been entirely engrossed in it before Thranduil had come into the room and you probably would still be if he had actually left you alone. You knew that you could stand up and leave any time you liked (right?) but some part of you was determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing you were uncomfortable because of his presence.

He had allowed you access to this library and had let you wander fairly freely after returning to his halls, but you still weren't sure if you could trust him. You were having a hard time matching up the arrogant, cruel king who you had first met, with the kindness the same man had shown you only days ago. Still, you registered, you were no longer terrified of him.

Thranduil was watching you from the corner of his eye, though you would not have been able to tell. He was thoroughly amused by the way you seemed completely unable to sit still and, yes, he knew the reason. Truthfully, he couldn't have given a reason for his staying here if he had been asked. He wasn't sure if he would have been able to give a reason for his intercepting Myleth and the tray of food either. He could easily have allowed her to continue and deliver the meal to you herself and you would have been none the wiser.

Eventually, you could take it no longer and gave up the fight, closing the book and standing up to return it to the shelf you'd gotten it from. Thranduil didn't move a muscle as you turned to glance at him just briefly. You hoped he didn't notice but he absolutely did, though the only movement he made was to lazily turn the page of the book in his hands.

Swallowing, you eyed the tray and decided that you shouldn't leave it there. Not only was it rude, it was disrespectful. You weren't here to live, you knew you were still technically a prisoner here and even if that weren't the case, he likely viewed you as beneath even his lowest staff member.

You turned to pick the tray up, careful as you turned around to make for the door. You didn't think you would be able to find your way to the kitchens so you decided you would just take it to your room and Myleth could help you in the morning. Once you were on your feet, you were suddenly aware of just how tired you were and how late it must be.

Stifling a yawn was your undoing.

Before you even knew what was happening, the tray was slipping from your grasp and you could feel your legs giving out beneath you. A curse slipped from your mouth as you did your best to steady yourself before you hit the floor. Though you needn't have bothered as, a second later, strong arms were circling your waist and pulling you upright as the contents of the tray scattered across the floor.

After a brief shock, you looked up to once more meet Thranduil's gaze, this time seeing mirth shining in his eyes as he looked back at you. At least he doesn't look angry, you thought. With any luck, he wouldn't tell you off too badly for the tray. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you looked at him, realising just how close he was actually holding you. When he'd caught you, your hands had come up to clutch his forearms and you hadn't let go yet. When you realised you were still gripping him and that too many seconds had passed to make it appropriate, you immediately let go and lowered your gaze.

Holding in a chuckle, Thranduil lowered his arms, letting you go. He stepped back and turned his head, surveying the mess. "Perhaps it would have been wiser for you to have retired for the night sooner?"

Biting your lip, you willed your cheeks not to flush with pure embarrassment, and turned in the direction of the mess. "I.. I apologise, Your Maj--My King." You quickly corrected yourself in a panic, remembering his conversation with you in the throne room after you had traded places with your father. You did not need to give him any more reasons to hate you, you needed your life here to be as easy as it possibly could be... for someone trapped here. "I will clean it immediately."

Thranduil winced inwardly as he listened to your nervous rambling. His face remained impassive as he studied you. He watched you move to bend down so you could clean up the tray you had spilled but he stepped forward again, taking hold of your upper arm - gently - and pulled you back. When you looked up, he shook his head. "Somebody else shall see to it." He told you. "You should rest." There was another silence as he let go and moved towards the door and pulled it open, glancing back towards you. "Allow me to escort you to your room."