Moonbeam

Chapter Nine

"I have had just about enough of this," Thranduil grunted under his breath, planting both fists on his hips. "LEGOLAS! TARELLETHIEL!" His roar echoed throughout the palace.

Guards scampered for cover.

He heaved a sigh, yanking clothing out of his wardrobe. Several tunics had been stitched along the sleeves and the bottom hems, making them ridiculously useless. Roughly six pairs of trousers had met the same fate, stitched along the waists and the leg bottoms. No doubt his son had not physically done this, because as far as he was aware, Legolas had no idea of the difference between one end of a sewing needle and a tree trunk.

Tara's head appeared round the doorframe, an innocent look on her face.

"Your handiwork, I presume?" he ground out, gesturing to the clothing strewn over his bed.

"Hmmm, you must be a sound sleeper if you did not hear someone commit such an act," she said casually.

"I was in a meeting for most of the night," he replied, searching through the clothes to make sure no more altered garments were hidden. "As you well know."

"I know nothing," she said.

He walked towards her, coming to a stop an inch away from her. "Sarcasm does not become you, my little moonbeam," he whispered. "Where is my son?" he demanded, drawing back to his full height and stepping back slightly. "No doubt he is still asleep, having been up half the night taking part in this nonsense."

She choked back a snigger, turning it into a discreet cough.

"I shall breathe easier when you two are separated and he is back with the patrol," he muttered, brushing past her and challenging one of the guards to locate the absent elf.

His irritated tirade ended abruptly as Legolas rounded the corner, presenting himself to his father.

"Sleep late, did we?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Tara watched the exchange between the two.

"No...I was packing the rest of my things," the Prince replied, at a genuine loss as to why his parent was vexed.

Thranduil rolled his eyes. "And you had nothing to do with this...this...oh never mind," he muttered. "I have enough to deal with today, without you two driving me mad."

Legolas frowned in confusion at her, and she stifled a giggle, earning a glare from the King as he proceeded to enter his chambers once more.

"I assume you have everything ready to leave after breakfast?" he asked.

"Yes," his son replied.

"May I accompany him?" Tara asked suddenly.

"Absolutely not," Thranduil retorted immediately.

Her face fell. "Why not?"

"Because I said no, and my word is final," he snapped. "It is far too dangerous, for one thing. You would have to go through rigorous training before I would even consider such a request. And you have more to learn within these walls before you could think about patrol training."

Her eyes slid sideways towards Legolas.

"Do not underestimate me," Thranduil warned softly, catching the look. "I know mischief when I see it. You will not be accompanying him. And if I have to put you under guard until he has gone, then make no mistake...I will not hesitate to do so."

Her eye brows came down in a slight frown, and he smirked to himself as he turned away again.

"There is plenty here to keep you out of trouble until he returns," he mused. "In the meantime, you may content yourself with undoing the work you carried out through the night, once we have had breakfast."