Disclaimer: The Hobbit, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.
Author's Note: Fill for a prompt on the hobbit-kink meme.
So Much for Plan A
Tauriel's expression was stern as she followed the guards marching the dwarves forward into the throne room. The three prisoners were brought to a halt before the elven king seated on his throne, the guards keeping hard grips on their shoulders. The captain moved to stand near a pillar. Her gaze flickered to Legolas standing beside his father before refocusing on the king.
A tense silence hung in the air.
"Long has it been since dwarves set foot in my domain," Thranduil eventually mused. "Since Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thor, came to these lands." He tapped one finger on the arm of the throne.
Thorin met the elven king's cold stare head on, his own eyes fiery. "Traveling through Mirkwood is not a crime," he growled, rattling the shackles binding his wrists.
"Yet trespassing is," the elf replied, an eyebrow lifting.
Tauriel's eyes jumped back to the dwarven king.
"We were not trespassing," the dwarf protested. "We lost the path. Only because of our hunger and weariness after encountering the spiders did we dare interrupt your people's merriment. We meant no harm."
His expression blank, Thranduil slowly rose from the throne. Tauriel tried not to tense at the movement.
"No harm…," he slowly repeated. "And yet you resisted being brought here, fought my guards. Your companions kept silent when they appeared before me. And now you refuse to share your purpose – where you come from, and where you are going," he said, gracefully stepping down the dais and walking towards the dwarven lord.
The proud dwarf merely straightened as the other approached, his gaze unwavering. "I told you—"
"Do you think me a fool to fall for your lies?" Thranduil demanded angrily. "Thrice I have asked your business, but you refuse to be honest with me. I would have released you, offered you my help."
The elf towered over Thorin, frustrated at the dwarf's seemingly lack of fear (unlike the uneasiness growing in the younger dwarves' faces). Thorin merely glared back definitely.
Tauriel had forgotten what a proud and rash dwarf he was.
"But I will have my questions answered," the elven king promised in a quiet tone, his expression turning majestic and calm once more. "Since you continue to refuse to explain what you are really doing in my kingdom," he went on, "you shall be made to talk. All three of you." He stared grimly at each in turn, a tiny smile curving his mouth. "I assure you, we have ways to make even the most brave and stubborn of men break in the end—"
"Don't, Ada!"
The elven captain was so attentive to the confrontation between the two kings that she jumped at the new voice. Cut off mid-sentence, the elven king froze in shock, then a second later spun around to encounter Legolas inches away, flushed, breathing raggedly, frowning, and eyes filled with a mix of emotions that were hard to sort and name. Tauriel and the guards stared in disbelief. This was different!
Thranduil slowly blinked. "Don't?"
"Don't," Legolas repeated his voice hoarse.
His father for a moment studied him. He then looked towards Tauriel. "Take the prisoners—"
"No!"
A heavy, uncomfortable silence hung in the air once the echo of Legolas's shout faded away.
Thranduil turned back to his son. Legolas stepped closer, his shoulders square, eyes shining with determination. Tauriel caught something too quick to identify flash in the king's look.
"Let the dwarves be, Ada. Surely the purpose for their secrecy does not warrant cruel treatment," the elf reasoned.
The king impatiently waved a dismissing hand. "The wellbeing of Mirkwood is my responsibility. The days are growing darker. I will see my people safe and secure, by whatever means necessary.
"Captain!" he snapped, pinning the elf with his stormy gaze again. She stepped forward, swallowing back her nervousness. "The torture chambers—" For the third time the elven king was interrupted.
"I won't let you do this." Speaking in Sindarin, Legolas's voice was low and intense. The prince's fingers twitched towards the dagger strapped to his side.
"You would dare deify your king?" Thranduil asked in their native tongue, his tone edgy.
Tauriel and the guards' eyes darted rapidly back and forth between the royals. The dwarves shifted uneasily; tense at no longer able to follow the conversation.
"I dare," Legolas stated.
Leaning closer, he spoke in such a quiet voice that the others weren't able to catch the words with their sharp hearing. After several long moments Thranduil drew back and gazed coldly at the younger elf, his mouth pressed into a hard line, his cheeks pale. Legolas's body was taut, like a drawn bow waiting to be released.
"Return the prisoners to their cells," Thranduil ordered in Western, waving a hand, his gaze remaining fastened on Legolas.
Letting out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding Tauriel nodded jerkily. "Yes, my king," she replied, thankful her voice was steady. A quick frown snapped the guards out of their dazed gaping and back to attention. Soon they were hastily directing the three dwarves toward the door, Tauriel following closely behind. None of them dared sneak glances to their king and prince.
Once out in the corridor the elven captain relaxed, but only a little. She was not sure what to make of the strange scene that had just occurred. Both Legolas and Thranduil's actions had caught her off balance. For a while she followed the guards and prisoners, her brows drawn together in confusion.
"You do know we don't have any torture chambers," she whispered in Sindarin to Legolas who materialized at her side, purposefully keeping her gaze forward.
"Aye," Legolas agreed, simmering anger in his voice. He glared straight ahead.
Tauriel opened her mouth, closed it. "Then why object?"
A muscle in her friend's jaw twitched. "His was serious, about using force to get information from Thorin and his nephews. I could not let his threat…," he trailed off, inhaling deeply.
The red-haired elf looked at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering what had come over him. The prince had never rebelled against his father like this. "What did you tell him?"
The blond-haired elf abruptly stopped walking. Tauriel halted beside him. "If the dwarves are harmed he will have to answer to me," Legolas's response was vague, tone dangerously light.
"But why did you do it? I can see you are in earnest."
The look she received Tauriel could not read. "Because if as much as a hair is harmed on the heads of Gimli's kin, Ada will regret it for the rest of his days."
"Gimli?" Tauriel said blankly.
Something like annoyed disbelief settled over the prince's features. "Yes, Gimli. Oh, you must remember that Yule celebration in Erebor when he tried to crawl under your—"
"The brash rascal?!" she exclaimed, a sudden memory flashing in her mind.
The corners of Legolas's lips tugged grudgingly upward. He folded his arms across his chest. "I believe you called him a cute and charming babe when you discovered him."
Both of Tauriel's eyebrows rose. "I'm sure those were your own words. Wrapped around his little finger he had you."
Legolas did not deny her accusation.
Well, at least that cleared up the mystery. She would pray this was the end of the matter. Because while quietly-angry-protective Legolas was more than a little scary seeing him in full out furious-warrior-overprotective form was beyond terrifying.
The instant the great doors of the throne room closed behind his son who hurried after the dwarves being taken away, Thranduil slapped his hand over his face. Thanks to Legolas, he would now have to come up with a second plan to find out what Thorin and his companions were doing in Mirkwood. The elven king groaned. And he and his son would have to sit down and have a discussion about Why-Dwarves-are-Dangerous-and-Not-to-Be-Trusted.
…For the fifth time.
THE END