For a few long moments Moria was truly at a loss for words. She didn't notice the other elves - save for Eregwen - vacate her visitor chambers, she didn't notice her Rusqui companions both in fox form slip into the room and precisely situate themselves near the king's attendant. Honestly, she felt completely unsophisticated and foolish in the way she was so blatantly gaping at the Elven-king's beauty.
It was with the slight upward curl of the right side of his mouth signifying his obvious amusement when she managed to shake herself free from her mystified staring – that was to say in the mental sense, she was still physically held within the king's gentle grasp.
"I wouldn't dare demand a Vala, let alone the Child of the Earth Queen and King, to explain themselves, but you…" his smirk stretched a bit further, "You have indeed sparked my interest, Laureiel." His fingers slipped from beneath her chin, gently dragging down along her neck as he asked once more, "Tell me, what causes you to act so brashly in my realm?"
Oh no. Moria did her best to keep her worry internal, if anything her eyes widened minimally, hopefully not enough for even the king's keen eyes to catch. The fingers of her right hand grasped for the strap and key she'd securely wrapped around her wrist, but the weight and coolness of the key didn't drop into her palm, nor did it with her other hand. The key was gone. Was it in her clothes? Had the elves charged with laundering her things taken it? Had Eregwen removed it from her? Oh dear, oh no. She'd find the key again, she had to. But for now she had to lie. Was she good at lying? Gandalf had been the one to lie about her identity upon introducing her to the company; this was an entirely different situation altogether. This would be a true test of her skills in deceit. This was a secret journey after all… Though once they encountered the dragon in the mountain, she had no idea how that would be kept quiet… Regardless, elves and dwarves, unfortunately, detested each other. Lie. Lie, lie, lie! Strangely the voice in her head sounded a lot like her father's before she conjured something up and stuttered through it.
"I-I am simply doing my duty as protector." Actually, the king's amusement with her was rather plain, so maybe she could work a demure angle if her lies were transparent, "I've been travelling masked so as not to rouse any suspicion among the dark creatures plaguing Middle Earth. Far better to seek and exterminate them, than them flock to me, I think." And though she tried, she couldn't withhold the tremor in her words with the king's grazing fingertips still brushing down her neck.
"And so you would brave the forest of Mirkwood simply to dip your toe into the enchanted stream for a quick rest?"
Moria very nearly balked, very nearly stomped her foot like an angered child who'd been mocked, but refrained. Any ideas of acting demurely swiftly left her mind as she suddenly had a need to establish herself as the more elder, dominant, and powerful between them.
"I didn't intentionally touch the water," she tried not to snarl. Just a few paces away she could hear the snuffle of one of the foxes, one of them was laughing.
"No, of course you didn't…" King Thranduil's grin finally lessened for just a brief moment of seriousness before it returned again coupled with something of a lecherous roaming gaze. She would have recoiled at such a shameless stare but the King finally removed his touch from her and took a step away before she could. He placed a low bow, the fabric of his gown sweeping out in a flourish with the gesture, "I welcome you, dear Laureiel, to my Halls of the Woodland Realm. Take rest in my home for as long as you wish. Anything you may desire will be fulfilled, you need only make your request known to Eregwen," he glanced up amid his bow, that bit of lasciviousness playing in his gaze again, "or myself, directly."
Moria blanched as she swallowed audibly before her cheeks began to burn red hot at the King's implication. Luckily for her she needn't stammer through a response, as he rose from his bow to his regular towering height. Thranduil continued, "Unfortunately, I have other matters to tend to. But I pray to be illuminated by your gracious company again quite soon."
Eregwen tilted her head forward in a short simple bow as her king exited the room. She walked smoothly to the heavy door and pushed it closed.
"Why did you not give away my lies?" Moria burst the moment the door was shut.
A smile came to the she-elf's mouth as she turned with a pleasant hum before answering, "I did not hear a lie from you that needed any correcting, my lady."
Moria stared with her mouth a gape; the foxes now parked at her feet stared up at her in what looked like curiosity, concern, and delight. "Uhh…" was all that Moria's managed to croak out.
"Is it not factual that you've been travelling under the guise of a simple warrior, doing your will as protector of Arda?"
Moria's mouth shut with an audible snap. Indeed she had begun this journey with an alias and without any of her Valar power, and indeed she had demanded to be seen as just a simple warrior among a dwarven king's company as this journey continued.
"I will not tell my king of your dealings with dwarves, my lady," Eregwen continued, "It is not my place tell to him if you do not wish for such information to be shared."
"Thank you," Moria nodded. "Normally I wouldn't wish to burden you with any secrets, but considering how things are…"
"Plausible deniability," Eregwen smiled, "You need not tell me anything more than that."
"Right," Moria agreed, "But, uhm, I wonder if you could tell me the whereabouts of a certain item I had on my person. I surely could not have lost it, it was definitely secure on my wrist, but –"
"Ah yes, your key," Eregwen gently interrupted and gestured to the foxes stationed at Moria's feet, "When I divested you of your armour I entrusted it to your companions for the time being."
"Fantastic!" Moria breathed in relief and turned her glance down to her Rusqui. The leather strap had vanished beneath Trygger's fur, but there, just a dull abnormality among the grey fur of her chest, was the key to Erebor. Moria gently brought the strap over Trygger's head and let out another sigh of relief to feel the coolness and weight of the key entrusted to her in hand.
"If there is nothing else at the moment, my lady, I will briefly see to my king," Eregwen bowed and remained leant forward until Moria agreed.
Once the door shut with a soft thud, Moria's becoming posture sagged, and she swiftly crossed the room to her temporary bed to slump onto it and relax for the moment before she had to really put her brain to work and figure out how she was to –
"Moria!"
She released a short yelp, scared out of her wits at the sudden voice that was neither Trygger nor Elska – who were both still in fox form and amid clambering onto the bed, both startled and spiked up at the sudden new voice as well. Moria immediately clamped her hand without the key over her mouth upon sight of the contracted burglar of Thorin's company.
"Bil-!" she began, but halted when - "Shh!" he hissed with a finger against his lips. "There are guards just down the hall."
"Bilbo, what are you doing here, how did you find me?" she wondered in her corrected volume, whispering as she gestured for the hobbit to take a seat on the bed as well so they weren't hissing across the room at each other.
"Let me tell you…" he grunted as he climbed up the side of the tall bed, "It was no easy task, and I certainly wasn't expecting to find you here, but I heard that name that Lord Elrond and the other Rivendell elves had called you and followed the chatter here." Bilbo breathed out in exhaustion once he'd finally reached the summit of the bed and paused to glance at Moria's attire, "You look lovely."
"Wha-," Moria glanced down at herself, suddenly acutely aware of the similarities between her and the Elven-King's garb, she nearly flushed rose red again, but shook it off, "Never mind that. Why are you here? Did you find sanctuary here? Are the others well?" Clearly not, since he was sneaking around.
Bilbo winced then, "Ah, about that, umm… They've all been captured," he muttered quickly.
"Captured?!"
"Shhhh!"
"What do you mean captured?" Moria hissed hurriedly, eyes wide and full of confusion.
"I mean captured like the Elven-King of Mirkwood doesn't take kindly to trespassers in his realm," Bilbo explained, but then took in her fanciful dress again, "Well, unless that trespasser is you, apparently."
Moria sat there gaping for a few long moments before she then scoffed, "And the king will not help them?"
"There is a not-so-old grudge between the Elven-king of the Woodland Realm and the line of Durin of Erebor…" Bilbo explained with a woeful sigh.
"Ohh, bother," Moria groaned as she flopped into a heap of fine fabrics and long, clean, silvery hair.
"Couldn't you ask for them to be released?" Bilbo wondered after a quiet contemplative minute.
Moria shook her head, "I've already explained that I've been traveling on my own… It would be suspicious to change my story, wouldn't it? And even more suspicious if I knew about their capture without being told about it."
Bilbo hummed in agreement, then offered, "Flaunt your celestial power, then?"
She snorted softly, "That's not at all what my power is supposed to be used for. If anything Eru would more than frown upon use of my power like that."
"Oh I know," Bilbo sighed as he began to stroke between Elska's ears when she set her head down on his knee, "This is just quite a new fix we're in, I was just hoping for a quick way out."
"Well… It's not as if they'll be executed… Unless King Thranduil is that sort… I certainly hope he isn't," Moria mumbled, bringing her hands to fold over her heart, the key to Erebor held tightly in her grasp.
"Temperamental," Bilbo muttered back.
"Oh and we're quite familiar with those sorts of kings, aren't we?" Moria snarked, "We've got time before Durin's Day. They won't be killed or starved, and we're all safe from orcs while we're within these Halls, so it's rather a fortunate place to be stuck while we think of a way to continue this journey…"
Bilbo hummed in agreement once more, and Moria was quite content with the idea of simply nodding off right then. With her Rusqui and hobbit all curled up around her. It was a nice respite, if she didn't count the fact that the dwarves were all locked up in cells in the dungeon… They were safe though! They were all together, really they were all right, so yes, she'd let her mind ease and give into rest…
Until there came a knock at the door.
All four of them sprang up, alert and eyes wide toward the door. In a flash, the two foxes were rushing Bilbo along to hide him in the wardrobe while Moria tried to keep on a relaxed and perfectly normal pose as she answered the knock with a, 'Come'.
Eregwen had returned, that pleasant little smirk ever-present on her mouth as she gave a little bow and wondered if Moria would be up for dining with the King this evening. She agreed strictly out of politeness, and the possibility of gaining more information that might be beneficial in planning a great escape.
"Also my King would be ever so pleased if you might grant him your company until dinner is served."
There was a chuffed sounding snort from one of the foxes near the foot of the bed and Moria wished she could've rolled her eyes and denied the request, but no – she was a liaison of sorts between the 'Gods' and 'mortals' (and 'immortals' though not so much deathless as the 'Gods', as it were), and so she should act as such… whether she wanted to or not.
"Very well," she breathed as she maneuvered herself off the enormous bed and sought out the slippers Eregwen had paired with the dress, "If you would be so kind as to show me to his chambers?" she asked as sweetly as possible, as if she weren't dreading this private meeting, as if her heart weren't beating with the force of fifteen anxious bodies.
The king's attendant gave another short bow and stood by the door, softly gesturing a hand for Moria to pass through. Another pleased snuffle sounded, closer this time, and she glanced down to see Elska was following her, and quickly glancing behind her, back into the room, Moria could see Trygger remaining steadfast near the foot of the bed. Good, Moria thought, one less worry now, knowing that Trygger would stay with her stowaway hobbit.
Though it should have been no different than the times she had dined with Elrond in Rivendell, there was a different sort of feeling that came with the Elven-king Thranduil and the Halls so named after him. There seemed something dark, something less welcoming, though that of course could easily be attributed to the fact that the corrupted Mirkwood surrounded the Kingdom… Still, the unease in her stomach could not be quelled no matter how many times she reassured herself that she was safe, that they were all safe here.
Eregwen came to a halt before a set of large ornate chamber doors; Moria looked at her curiously, and the elf quietly gave in explanation, "Just a moment longer."
"Your senses are far too keen, heryn," the King's voice called in a muffled way from behind the thick doors.
The attendant smirked and grasped one of the door's handles and pulled, "As are yours, my King."
"Hiding from my nursemaid in my young days were truly the times my astute senses were honed."
"Such a troublesome little prince," Eregwen sighed wistfully at the memory, "Much like someone else we know…" she muttered in a cryptic sort of way, though her eyes twinkled with mirth.
Thranduil matched her knowing words with a perceptive glance before he calmly muttered, "I know you're there." He turned to stare in the direction of a set of secret steps, "Why do you linger in the shadows?"
Moria very nearly startled at the sight and sound of another elf maiden, "I was coming to report to you," she said. That enchanted stream had clearly done more than simply set her into a place of nightmares; Moria's senses were dulled, and she wondered if the same could be said for her Valar Power. Now wasn't the best of times to test that concern, so she kept that in mind for later.
The red headed elf stood at attention before her king, giving a bow to him, and as she straightened she caught sight of Eregwen and a small smile came to her mouth, "Einior," she murmured warmly and placed her hand over her heart and moved to extend it toward the attendant but halted upon sight of Moria. Her hazel eyes pierced her with a curious gaze for a few moments before the realization dawned on her, and her eyes began to widen and her mouth began to tremble with unsaid stammering words.
Thranduil's pointed tone brought the red headed elf back to her senses, effectively tearing her attention away from Moria as he wondered, "I thought I ordered that nest to be destroyed not two moons past."
"We cleared the forest as ordered, my Lord. But more spiders keep coming up from the south. They are spawning in the ruins of Dol Guldur, if we could kill them at their source..." she tried to keep her gaze trained on her king, but couldn't help but flicker her eyes back toward the Valar Child herself; what were the odds, after all, of actually being in the presence of such a powerful being? Well, far more rare than they should have been, that's for sure, and all the blame was Moria's. Moria tried not to grow timid under the cautiously blatant stare.
"That fortress lies beyond our borders. Keep our lands clear of those foul creatures - that is your task," the Elven-king stated his orders clearly.
"And when we drive them off, what then?" the red-headed elf shot back, "Will they not spread to other lands?"
"Other lands are not my concern," Thranduil answered easily, and right then Moria felt a pang of empathy, this king bore the attitude of her former self. She stared in awe to see such a being so similar to herself, curiosity getting the better of her, she wondered what provoked such a temperament in the Elven-king; possibly something similar to what befell her when she was just a babe? "The fortunes of the world will rise and fall, but here in this kingdom, we will endure."
The red-headed elf seemed to resign herself to defeat in ever getting her king to show some compassion for the rest of the world, at least for now. She gave another bow, and straightened up, prepared to make a quiet retreat when the king spoke again, "Legolas said you fought well today." This halted the young elf maiden in her tracks, and Thranduil continued, "He's grown very fond of you."
She glanced toward Eregwen with widened eyes then sharply cast her eyes to the floor. Moria turned an inquiring glance beside her to the attendant to see the first occurrence of a look of sternness on the regularly (at least in what Moria had assumed) smug elvish facial features. The redhead stammered, "I assure you, my Lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than a Captain of the Guard." Ah, Captain of the Guard, not that Moria had been paying any particular attention to details, it did make sense to her now as to why this she-elf was presenting a report to her king. But the way she, Eregwen, and the king presented together, Moria detected there was a bit more of something there… she just couldn't place what yet.
"Perhaps he did once. Now I'm not so sure," Thranduil mumbled as he strode to a table topped with several decanters.
The young elf was stunned, as any would be Moria assumed, to be scrutinized by the king in concerns of his son's romantic interests. She didn't stutter this time, though she still kept her eyes pinned to the floor, "I do not think that you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly Silvan Elf."
"No, you are right, l would not," Thranduil answered without the barest hint of sympathy as he selected a decanter of wine and poured for himself. Moria saw the she-elf visibly crumble, saw the previous hint of hopeful light snuff out completely. "Still, he cares about you. Do not give him hope where there is none."
The elf kept her gaze trained to the floor as she hastily made her escape from the king's chambers. Now that was quite cruel, Moria summed, quite cruel indeed. She nearly felt like she should rush after the poor elf girl to console her, even if she didn't know her by name.
"You may leave us, heryn," Thranduil murmured, his voice slightly amplified as he spoke before he took a sip from his goblet.
Once the heavy doors to the king's chamber shut with an ominous thud, they were surrounded in an awkward sort of silence aside from the mountain stream that quietly trickled through the expansive room. "Come," Thranduil spoke after another unhurried sip and extended a goblet toward Moria, apparently she'd missed him pouring the second during that hurtful exchange between King and Guardsman. The moment she took it from him he began long sweeping strides toward the adjacent room, "Follow me."
Though she might have looked elvish in the way of fine features and long silvery hair, she certainly didn't measure up to their towering heights, she nearly had to jog to keep up with the king until they were in what she assumed were his sleeping chambers, and still following him into yet another connected room, there was a lovely arrangement of leisurely furniture and low tables, it reminded her a lot of home and the way her mother's chambers were designed with the intent of ultimate comfort and elegance, while her father's was more geometric and symmetrical more than comfortable.
She took the seat offered to her that was much like the chaise she lounged upon for the greater part of the aloof ages she spent at home, and ventured to finally take a sip of the gifted wine when the king spoke again as he seated himself in a high backed chair, almost throne-like more than laze about, "An ainu would be a wondrous and more preferred consort for my son, but his tastes…" he sighed as he settled himself in a less than kingly but comfortable position, "appear to be of a lesser caliber of late. I fear he would even reject the most illuminate of the Valar, if proposed." There was a twinkle in his eye which Moria would learn to translate as the closest thing to a smile that wasn't smug or condescending in nature. "But that is not to say I would not appreciate company of your eminence."
Moria was quite lucky she hadn't taken that first sip, otherwise it would have be sprayed all over her fine borrowed clothes and possibly even the king himself – just what exactly was he implying? "I beg your pardon?!"
The king hummed a sort of sound like a chuckle, "I assure you, I mean no disrespect in any manner, Laureiel."
"Then what are you suggesting, my Lord?" she snipped, putting her goblet down with a thunk on the low table nearest her.
For a long while the king just appeared completely amused as he stared her down, and to her surprise that smirk came back before briefly a true smile stretched his lips. And damn her damned heart for fluttering at the damned pretty sight the king offered with such a rare and beautiful smile.
"You remind me of her," he finally murmured, though it wasn't much in way of explanation.
Moria's eyes slightly narrowed, "Of her…?"
Thranduil's smirk wobbled for just the briefest millisecond, a touch of sorrow flickering in his eyes until it was back to the regularly stony visage temporarily covered with amusement. "The Elven-queen."
Moria hadn't the barest of knowledge of the Woodland elves, only that Thranduil's father had been the first to rule the formerly Greenwood. It would have been difficult to understand if the queen was living or had passed if not for the sadness in the king's eyes.
"You even look like her - or rather," he corrected, "She looked like you. She wasn't fond of me to begin with, and was somewhat petulant, much like you are with me now." All Moria could really do was listen as he continued on, "She was a fierce warrior, she led numerous companies into battle under my father's command, she was always so…" he sighed, wistfully or woefully, she couldn't really tell, "Obstinate."
Moria understood now, everything made sense now in concern with the Elven-king. Where Moria had been abducted by Morgoth and coldness instilled where love should have been, Thranduil had lost his love to the battles and wars Morgoth's first lieutenant Sauron fabricated. He wasn't necessarily cold, he just didn't want any more blood of his kinsmen shed or lives lost in matters they need not meddle in. And especially not his son – his son was the last piece of his queen he still had, if he lost that then surely the elf would truly become cold and lost forever.
"But, of course, she was much taller than you, Laureiel."
And then she was back to glaring and pouting, "I can't help that I'm this size. I was made from a piece of fruit and a flower. In fact, for a walking, talking Silmaril, my size is quite impressive!"
Thranduil let out a laugh, an honest laugh that startled Moria at its sudden sound she jumped in her chaise.
"You have my eternal gratitude, Laureiel. This visit will definitely be enjoyable."
A smile cracked across Moria's face to see the icy king in such good spirit. Perhaps it would be a fine visit… until she managed to break her king and company free to continue this blasted journey.
.
.
.
Author's Note: Aw, memories. MEEEEMOOORIEEESS. My headcanons are getting out of control with Thranduil, just so gosh danged TRAGIC. Anyways. Hello and welcome back, that was a long break and I apologize, but I really needed all my focus on school for this particular module. I think I'll have more time with this next one to post chapters, but I don't know for sure. We'll see!
Sooo, I will have further explanation of Tauriel (and can I just say it's so hard to write about a character whose name you know but know she isn't specifically named in a particular scene/conversation so you can't use her name until she's been introduced to your OC and just wooow, there's not many ways to say 'redhead', shiiit!) and Eregwen and what's going on there.
Eregwen was referred to as 'lady' and as 'elder', just for translation bits, pretty sure I keep forgetting to put translations in these notes. SORRY ABOUT THAT. ANyHOW. Today is finals so wish me luck and enjoy the chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything Tolkien related! If I did though that would be really cool, I mean - nobody dies/everyone lives rewrites all over the place! HELLL YEEEAH.