Kingsfoil [Thranduil] LOTR

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Four hundred years ago...

Narylfiel had quickly become very adept at listening. For example, right now with her ear pressed to her bedroom door, she knew exactly how many steps it took for Thranduil's guards to clear the hallway. She waited a beat and then stuck her head outside her door. All was clear. She looked back in her room, at Bun, her stuffed rabbit, who sat tucked against her pillows. He regarded her with a serious expression.

"You stay here and keep watch," she advised him. Then she crept out of her room and tip-toed down the hall, careful not to make a sound as she passed by her sister's and Legolas' bedroom. She stopped in front of the king's bedroom door, looked both ways down the hall, and then coolly tried the door handle, sliding into the room with ease.

Her eyes could not have been wider as she surveyed the room. It was just all so...kingly. The furnishings, the décor, the fabrics and wall hangings-they all fit Thranduil's style perfectly, Narylfiel decided approvingly. The fireplace could have easily roasted a wild boar, and across the room, the wide four-poster bed dominated the space. All of the dark wooden furniture gleamed in the candlelight, like it had been polished to a high shine as a point of pride. Narylfiel moved closer to the bed for a closer look. The posts on the bed, she realized, had been carved to look like trees growing straight up and then branching off to form a canopy. It suited him. Wild, but elegant, just like him. She reached out a small finger and touched the silken coverlet that looked green and silvery at the same time. Soft.