While he was bathing, you had a look for any clothes left behind over the years by exes or family that might fit him; you managed to scrounge an XL gray hoody from the depths of your wardrobe and an oversized shirt you sometimes slept in. It came down to your knees, so it should definitely work. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything you could offer him in the trouser department except for a pair of very old stained sweatpants. Chewing your lip, you decided not to even bother with them and chucked them back into the wardrobe. They really should have been thrown out ages ago. Laying the shirt and hoody on the spare bed, you grabbed a glass of water for him too, and as an afterthought some books you thought he might find interesting. 'Do elves even sleep?' you wondered to yourself. More to the point, do they wear pajamas? Visions of elegant satin button-down shirts with matching trousers filled your mind. Strangely enough, you knew that although ridiculous on a 21st century man, they'd probably look good on him. There probably wasn't much that wouldn't look good on him. A small smile stole across your face at the thought of the Elven King slumbering in a pair of boxers. Shaking your head at the absurdity of the situation, you made a mental note to take him shopping in the morning - if he doesn't run off during the night, that is. You snorted to yourself at the probability.

"What are the books?" a smooth voice reverberated beside your left ear. Gasping in fright, you spun around with wide eyes and smacked into a firm chest. Stumbling backwards, you put a hand across your pounding heart and glared at the elf filling your doorway. "Jesus, Thranduil! Don't do that!"

A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth as his bright eyes narrowed slightly in amusement. "I am finished bathing." He stated.

"Yes, I can see that" you retorted, not over the shock he gave you. Inhaling deeply, you gestured to the bed. "I thought you might like something to read, in case you can't sleep. I don't know what you like so there's a mixture there, fact and fiction. There's more in the living room too you're welcome to take, if you don't like any of those." Thranduil smiled gently and thanked you, sending shivers down your spine. You swallowed them away, moving to lift the clothes on the bed. "Ah. I'm afraid I don't have any male clothes for you.. and.. I don't have anything for you to sleep in, so." You paused, cheeks heating up as he eyed you intently. Taking a deep breath, you rushed on; "You'll have to sleep in your underwear tonight. And tomorrow I'll take you shopping for some clean pairs and some everyday clothes, if you'd like?"

Much to your delight, he accepted the offer graciously. Tomorrow would certainly be interesting.

Smiling back at him, you laid the clothes back down and smoothed them out. "Well. I'll let you get some rest." Thranduil moved aside to let you past. "Goodnight", you said over your shoulder, moving next door to your bedroom. "Goodnight" his smooth voice echoed, causing the hairs to prickle on the back of your neck. Pausing just inside your room, you debated internally before heading back, catching him just before he closed his door.

"Thranduil."

"Yes, Y/N?"

Azure eyes locked with your own, making your stomach flutter.

"Um. Tonight." You began weakly. "Don't.. don't leave the house, okay?" As you had feared, his eyes flashed with suspicion, any bond of friendship that had formed between you today snapping as you both landed back to square one - strangers. "Well, obviously you can – you're not a prisoner here, I won't keep you." You rambled in an attempt to remedy the situation. "It's just that people here… well, they won't understand you. The way you dress, or speak… it's not normal. You might get stopped by the police for wandering around dressed like a loon in the middle of the night – they're not going to believe you're an elf and end up throwing you in a jail cell or worse - submitting you to some psychiatric clinic. And if you go there, I won't be able to help you."

Thranduil watched you with keen eyes, waiting for you to continue.

You sighed, running a hand through H/C locks. "What I'm saying is… just wait until tomorrow to do any exploring, okay? I can take you out and show you around, get you some normal clothes and a bit more accustomed to everything. And then on Sunday we can get to figuring out where you came from and how to get you home." You smiled at him. "And you can stay with me as long as you need to."

The Elven King stared unblinking at you for a few seconds, his intense gaze piercing through you as though trying to figure out your true intentions. You looked up at him with earnest eyes, doing your best to convince him you just wanted to help. Finally, with that signature head tilt, Thranduil acknowledged your advice and offered a tight-lipped smile.

"Thank you for your concern," he began, "and your hospitality. Rest assured, it will be repaid in full."

When it was clear he wasn't going to say anymore, you smiled once more, and backed off with a relieved "Okay, well, goodnight again."

Shutting your bedroom door, you leaned back against it, resting your head against the hard wood. Although he might be a crazy cosplayer, there was something in your gut that trusted him. Strangely enough, you didn't feel in danger at all – despite your logical mind chastising you for inviting this complete stranger into your home. A ghost of a smile tinged your lips. Pushing yourself away from the door, you set about getting changed for bed.


Thranduil POV

Laying atop the covers fully dressed, Thranduil listened as the woman settled into bed next door. Muffled thumps reached his keen elven ears through the wall as various pillows were thrown to the floor, followed by quiet creaking as she shifted down upon the bed frame. A soft sigh – and silence.

It had been four days since the light had engulfed him, and small tendrils of despair had been beginning to snake around him. This land was strange. The people wore odd, sometimes indecent garments, and all eyes looked to him with suspicion. Any attempt to gain his bearings or barter for water, shelter or a horse had been rebuked with confusion, disdain and often mockery – though he did not understand the source of their insults. Many words were foreign to him, the trees and animals were silent and dumb – event the air felt different. It was heavier, less clean – but also somehow emptier. There was no magic here, he could feel its absence in his bones.

Picking up a book, Thranduil ran a finger over its spine and marvelled at the fine print inside. Each letter was uniformly marked, impossibly so. Like so many other things here, it was new to him. He was not a young elf, and had seen much in his time – so this novelty unnerved him greatly. He must have strayed very far from home indeed.

Roaming his eyes over the bedroom, he mused on his surroundings. The woman's home and her generous explanations gave him precious insight into this land, and how its people lived. Her home was pleasant, if small; filled with pretty plants and interesting ornaments and paintings, and finely furnished with smooth leather seats and glossy wood tables. This woman was the first to offer him any kind of welcome or kindness here, and for this he was indebted to her – but he did not trust her.

Her social status puzzled him, for although she was clearly not a peasant, nor was she of high birth, for she lacked maids or guards and lived alone. This riled his suspicions – perhaps she was an outcast. In which case, she could be dangerous. She seemed harmless and genuine, but appearances can be deceiving. Thranduil's jewelled hand rested lightly upon his sword. Not for the first time, he was grateful for the grace of the valar that coursed through his veins, allowing him to remain alert even after many days on guard in an unfamiliar place. He would need to rest his mind soon, but not tonight. Tonight he would content himself with resting his body upon the soft mattress – his ears and eyes focused for the slightest hint of danger.