Learn To Love - A Thranduil love story [discontinued]

Introduction

Warning: There are scenes of implied abuse in this chapter, in case anyone finds such content offensive.

"Calathiel!" Denethor's voice boomed through the stone walls. Upon hearing his voice, you immediately dropped the clothes you were washing and scurried to him quickly, keeping your eyes on the ground. He was slumped in his chair next to the stairs that lead up to the throne, swirling a glass of wine in his hand. He averted his gaze to you as you stood in front of him. "What took you so long?" he grumbled, despite the fact that you presented yourself almost straight away. He sat up and leaned close to you.

"F-forgive me, I was washing the clothes, s-sire." you replied, your voice small and shaking. You hesitantly looked up to meet his eyes. His unimpressed face stared down at you.

"I don't care." the words slurred from his vile mouth, his breath pungent with the smell of alcohol. He grabbed your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look up at him. A small whimper escaped your throat. "You do as I say, little elf scum, unless you want another pretty scar on you..." he snarled. You shook your head quickly and gulped. His lips curled up into a grim smile, his eyes looking up and down your body.

You wore a white, long sleeved dress that fell just below your knees; it was more of a night dress, but it was all you had to wear, along with a pair of black, slip on shoes. A small string was all you had to tie up your long, pale blonde hair. Your skin was scattered with scars, scrapes, and bruises from abuse and hard work. The only part of you that held onto a form of beauty was your eyes; dark blue like the night sky, always shimmering, and surrounded by long, thick, dark eyelashes.

"S-sire, I m-must go finish my chores..." you dared to whisper, immediately regretting it when his eyes shot back up to yours. He shook his head and looked at you as though you had insulted him.

"Are you disobeying me?" he growled.

"N-no, I just-"

His release his firm grip from your jaw, and swung his hand around your face. The sound of the slap filled the room. Before you stumbled over, he grabbed your arm and pulled you to him.

"Don't say another word, worthless elf! I ought to give you to the orcs, you foul, good-for-nothing whore!" he yelled in your face, drops of his red wine spilt onto the stone floor like blood. His voice echoed in the hall, bouncing from pillar to pillar. You felt cold as fear ran through your veins. "Get out of my sight." he spat at you and pushed you away. Too scared to utter anything else, you ran out the room and down the corridors to the servant dorms. You stumbled into your small room and slammed the door behind you. As you walked to your small, cracked mirror, you felt tears fill your eyes from the stinging that covered half of your face.

You sighed softly, staring at your distorted reflection, seeing that your cheek was pink. It was that moment when your young mind decided that it was time. You looked at the small window, up at the cloudy sky. 'When the sun goes down...'

- - -

When night finally came, you silently left your room, keeping an eye out for guards. You had heard that Denethor had departed with his sons on horseback to go hunting, and so you took your chance to escape. Hugging your cloak closer to your malnourished frame, you peered round the corner from under your hood as the grand gates opened. Denethor entered on his horse, accompanied by his two sons. As they rode past, you sprinted on light feet for the closing gates.

"Hey, stop!" one of the guards called behind you. You didn't dare turn around, and kept running as fast as you could to the path going through the woods. Only a few seconds later you heard the sound of horses running behind you. Without thinking, you ran away from the path and through the trees. The sound of hooves stopped, and were replaced with fast footsteps.