Tauriel's patience was growing thin. Her life as of recent had become a cycle of "yes, my Lord, we cleared the spiders" and "they keep coming back, my Lord, from Dol Goldur" and "if we could clear them at the source, my Lord-", but it never got any further than that. Lord Thranduil was determined to have nothing to do with the foul ruins, even if it could mean freeing their woods of the filth that crept from there to infect it. She was stalking back and forth in front of him, a habit she had picked up to keep her feet moving extraneously so that her tongue would not.
He currently stood with his back to her, sipping at a chalice of Dorwinion, and she took a deep breath to calm herself before she spoke again.
"The spiders are coming from Dol Goldur, My Lord. My scouts have tracked them back there, and it is the definite source. Would it not be better to attack once and destroy the source than to risk our warriors every day in small skirmishes and ambushes in the woods?"
"No. There is a great evil upon those ruins and as I have told you before, I will not risk the lives of any of my people on what is sure to be a worthless quest."
"Then the spiders will continue to invade, no matter how many times we clear them from our trees," she said, her tone sharpening with annoyance.
" Perhaps you should be a bit more thorough with your sweeps."
"My guards are thorough, the spiders are not coming from within the woods," she growled. "We need to strike at Dol Goldur if we are to-"
"I have told you already, I will not endanger my warriors on a foolish quest to that accursed place," he snapped, dismissing her with a sharp wave of his hand. Tauriel felt her pulse burning in her throat as anger swept through her.
"And I will not sit and watch as this forest is dragged into darkness because you are afraid!" she shouted. Thranduil visibly stiffened, and she felt a chill wash over her.
Too far.
"Good day, my Lord," she mumbled, turning to flee before the extent of his rage locked onto her. She had almost made it to the door when he spoke.
"Tauriel."
Her name was spoken in a low growl, the threat clear beneath the word, and she froze in place, her back to the throne. She heard the rustle of his fine robes as he turned slowly, set her jaw as she heard his footsteps coming toward her.
"M-my Lord?"
A hand grabbed her upper arm roughly, and she had to choke back a cry of surprise and fright when she turned to see Lord Thranduil leaned close, half of his face showing the scars from what had once been horrid burns. She had heard rumor that he kept up a glamor to mask his appearance, but she had not known what was beneath. Until now.
The flesh was the angry red of a new wound, burned and melted away to clearly show sinew and bone. His cheek was all but hollow, and the eye was white and sightless. She tried to recoil, but his grip was too strong, and he only leaned closer.
"Do not presume what you do not know," he hissed, his grip keeping her firmly rooted in place, despite her wanting nothing more than to escape. "There is great evil in this world, of a kind that you are not capable of imagining."
He leaned closer, and she could feel herself trembling.
"You are not to speak to me of this subject again. Am. I. Clear?"
It took a long second for her voice to work, but at last she was able to gasp out a shaky "yes My Lord" and Thranduil let her go.
This time she did flee. Propriety be damned, she ran to the double doors that led to the throne room, pushing them open and stumbling into the relative safety of the hallway.
"Guards?" Thranduil called from behind her, his voice calm and his face emotionless when she glanced over her shoulder, his glamor back in place. "Lock her in the dungeons for the night. I will not tolerate impertinence."