Beauty and the Beast | Thranduil x Reader

Chapter 33

Two days passed and then Legolas and Tauriel returned with your father. You were in the library with Thranduil when the news came. You had foregone your book long ago by that point, swapping it for Thranduil's lap where you sat curled against him, kissing him like he was the very oxygen you needed to breathe.

Legolas had burst into the room and given you such a fright that you had leapt from Thranduil's lap, though not quick enough because Legolas witnessed the entire scene, including what was happening just before you moved.

He lifted a hand to his face in an attempt to hide his amused smirk and cleared his throat to smother a laugh. The look his father levelled at him told him that he noticed. "I, ah.." He started, recovering himself as quickly as he could. He had the good grace to become a little more sombre as he turned his gaze to you. "Your father is safe. We have set up a room and he is with the healer."

"Is it bad?" Thranduil asked, and you turned to look at him, a little surprised. You had become too accustomed to Thranduil's derisive comments or looks whenever your father was mentioned. You understood it more after learning about the roses and everything else that had happened, but it had still felt slightly uncomfortable. You loved your father. Looking at Thranduil now, there seemed to be concern in his expression and you couldn't stop the softest of smiles gracing your features.

"He will live." Legolas assured you both, though he was looking at Thranduil, responding to his father's question. "They had him in this place, some type of hospital I believe it was, but he was just locked in a room and not very well cared for. He has a fever and a sickness in his chest. He is unconscious right now... but you can see him, if you would like."

This was directed to you and you nodded instantly. "Yes. Yes, please."

Legolas nodded, moving aside for you to leave the library ahead of him, turning to shoot his ever-so-slightly ruffled and unamused father a smirk.

Moving into the room they had set your father up in, you rushed to the side of his bed. The healer on the other side did her best to put your mind at ease, assuring you that he would recover, and recover well thanks to the medicine and healing powers that the elves had.

Still, you hated to see him this way. He had not woken but he seemed feverish, mumbling under his breath as he slept. You wished desperately for him to wake and yet you also partly dreaded it for the sole reason that the last time he had been here had been terrible and he had not experienced the elves as you had. He had not experienced Thranduil as you had.

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Three days passed, during which you hardly left your father's side. Thranduil came to check in once on that first day but he had not come again, leaving you and your father in peace. He didn't wish to intrude, though three days apart gave him more time to sit and dwell upon the problem he was now facing.

The problem that was your mortality.

You were a human. Humans, who were there and then gone again so quickly.

The thought agitated him.

He loved you.

Thranduil had admitted as much to you. Out loud, despite his many concerns. The days after both of your confessions to each other had been spent in a little bit of a haze. The two of you had been quite wrapped up in the bliss of it all, exploring this connection that had grown between you both. That you had both finally acknowledged.

However, Thranduil was now succumbing to the reality of the situation. A human and an elf. It had happened, sure. Your favourite story was proof of it - Beren and Luthien. He scoffed to himself as he sat behind his large desk, not getting a single bit of work done as his mind tortured him.