The Unexpected | LotR Fanfiction

Chapter 59

         

I turned back to the messenger. "Okay, let's go."

We both took off at a brisk jog, hers more relaxed—in a tense professional manner, mine more anxious. Bees ran through my veins.

I knew what the king wanted to talk about. But couldn't he have waited until later in the morning? Or not at all. Preferably the latter.

I silently berated myself. If Legolas and I were to convince the King into allowing us soldiers—or at the very least supplies and healers—In order to save Middle-Earth, I'd have to do everything in my power I could do. Even if it means talking about things I'd rather not think about.

I tugged at my sleeves.

Sweat had started to bead on my skin by the time we reached the King's Halls, the palace guards swiftly letting us pass.

Inside the cool corridors, the envoy slowed to a walk. No jogging allowed, it seems. Although, I do hope they allow sweaty pigs—for that's what I have turned out to be. At the moment, anyway.

The eyes of fancy-armored guards slid smoothly as we passed by them, hands not quite in an alert position, nor wariness in the eyes. I wasn't entirely sure that was a good thing or not.

Biting my lip, I tried to stifle my ever-rising anxiety. Ever since I could remember, the King of the Woodland realm had terrified me. Until yesterday, in the garden. But most of that fear still remained. Enough so, that I wished to be back home in the too tense silence of unwanted questions.

And then we came to a slow before a set of small double doors, deep mahogany carved to be in the image of magnificent trees.

"I take my leave here, hiril vuin," the elleth-messenger said, bowing deep, fist over heart, with her blonde braid reaching down. It made me think of Sunnwyn, that braid, and in turn, Sunngifu and her newborn. I immediately shut out the thought.

"Hannon le—for leading me here, I mean." I inclined my head.

A small smile touched her lips before she left me alone—in front of those doors.

Breathing in, I pushed on that heavy wood and passed the threshold.

It wasn't a study, not even a business meeting-like place, but a relatively small (for a palace) dining space. I knew by the small table, but by no means tiny, and the... air to the place that this was not the official dining hall. Perhaps just a smaller one meant for family and guests. The ceiling expanded above, wider at the top than here at the bottom. A ledge must've been carved up there, for greenery spilled over the edges, filling the small dining hall with earthy scents. Light also spilled in through tiny slits up high, hidden by the plants. There had to be mirrors up there, for the small amount of light entering became as bright as a full-fledged sun.

A 'counter' like table, several of them actually, occupied some of the spaces against the wall. A few held wine, others dining necessities. A door stood solemnly at the back—one that had to lead to the kitchen. I inferred that this small dining room had to be close to the actual dining hall. And the table, big enough to hold a small gathering sat centered, ornate chairs—all identical—gathered around the wooden structure.

King Thranduil sat in a chair, which was perch at the side of the oval table—not at the head, I noticed with surprise. Even though I had already had a clear sweep of the room, I glanced at every single chair. No Legolas.

He wasn't invited. Most likely didn't even know this interrogation would be taking place. So, he wouldn't be able to save me, to give me a scapegoat.