My Wildest Dream (A Middle Earth Fan-fiction)

Running

Thiel

I'm racked with absolute guilt as I race out of the room. Guards and a few other random assortments of elves look on at me, an unbelievable expression of disbelief their only visible feature as I dart past them. The tiles squeak under my feet as I continue my escape, galloping like a horse. All I can think of is to keep moving forward, no matter what. I swear that I couldn't have run faster if even a pack of orcs was hunting me down.

What kind of a person did something like what I just did? Leaving your friend to talk to the guy who just proposed to you, out of the blue? A childish half Sindar, half Silvan elf, that's who!

I continue to chide myself as I make my way to my room. Thankfully, for whatever odd reason almost nobody was out. It was just routine guards and I.

A nice break from the haunting eyes of the Prince of Greenwood.

Thranduil

You know, the guy who just oh so casually suggests we should elope somewhere.

I burst into my apartment, the door slamming loudly against the wall. Sulking something badly, I huff into my room, eyes on fire. My entire place was dark like the night, a lofty draft everywhere, but I can't find it in me to do something as simple as bring light to my home. Probably out of fear that if I lit a candle, or let the moonlight in, a particularly tall elf with wintry skin and hair to match would be standing in some corner, a ghost of a prominent future.

Thranduil

His name is a melody, not leaving my head. No matter what I try, I just can't get rid of the picture of his stupid face. I collapse on my bed of cotton and silk. Despite my higher class, I'd chosen to live in a nicer Silvan dominated area. It was the middle ground between where Eri would be expected to reside and where I would. After all, I was a child of two worlds.

I place the pillow over my head and groan loudly. I'd never taken much to Thranduil; He'd been aloof to me my entire life here. During the select few times our paths had intersected he'd been mainly kind. A bit sarcastic, sure, but a nice personality. Hard to get to know, however. A tight wall was built around him, and I always assumed up until now I was, for whatever reason, not worthy of learning what was behind his barricade.

Truth be told, it did hurt a little. I recall a particular day when he wouldn't even speak a word to me, just sour expressions and gestures. Given it was when I first arrived, it stung. Given the fact that I may have had a tiny little crush on him, it stung just that much more.

So, admittedly, sure: I didn't dislike him as much as I let on.

Maybe I didn't run away because I didn't love him, but rather I ran because I felt the seed of affection and warmth within me and was terrified of finding out whether or not he felt it in return.

In other words, I was in love with Thranduil. Or at least, beginning to fall for the prince.