Lord Thranduil is taking a stroll in his private gardens when he hears the snap of a tree branch from the canopy a few yards off the path and freezes. Although he doubts that the spiders have made it this far into his kingdom, it always pays to be cautious. Drawing his sword, he looks around, and is surprised when an elvish arrow comes flying from above to stick into the path a few paces behind him.
Peering up into the trees, he sees a flash of red among the green and a smirk tugs at his lips despite his best efforts to suppress it. Of course.
"I would have thought that you learned your lesson the last time you drew a bow on me, Tauriel," he calls dryly, and is rewarded with a horrified gasp of "My Lord!" from above.
There is a flurry of movement from the branches, accompanied by more twigs snapping, and he quickens his pace to the base of the tree that she has somehow managed to climb. She appears a few seconds later, falling more than climbing down, and he quickly reaches to catch her by the waist and lift her the remaining few feet to the ground.
His mouth is open and he is midway through taking a breath to lecture Tauriel when he catches a good look at her. She is shaking, her cheeks damp with what he can only assume are tears, and it is enough to make him pause in his fury. She should not have been out here alone, but she is clearly quite upset and he cannot bring himself to yell at her just yet.
Her bow has fallen from her grip on the way down and now rests in the grass at their feet, and her quiver is skewed from the movement. She has leaves tangled in her hair, and it is all he can do to resist reaching out to pluck them free. Tauriel turns to face him (more or less) as soon as she is steady on her feet and bows, trembling in fright.
"My Lord, I am so sorry! I heard movement below and thought it might be an orc, and when I heard you draw your sword, I..." she flinches a bit, "I thought it better to shoot first and ask questions later so as not to give away my position."
He stares at her, his emotions somewhere between shock, annoyance, and amusement. Taking his silence as understanding, she takes a small breath and pushes on, trying to change topic.
"If I may ask, My Lord...what are you doing so far out in the woods without a guard?"
Her question is asked with complete innocence and sincerity, concern in her tone, and he is about to reprimand her for wandering alone herself when he notices her wording and is left speechless for a long moment.
"Tauriel..." he begins at last, "Where exactly do you believe yourself to be?"
He sees the embarrassed flush creeping up her cheeks before she can duck her head low enough to hide it from him. Her hands are trembling again.
"S-somewhere in the woods, My Lord. Perhaps a few stone's throws from the gates?"
His eyebrow quirks and he fixes her with a disapproving look despite the fact that she cannot see it.
"You are in the King's private garden, Tauriel."
She winces, ducking her head lower. He finds himself automatically reaching to her and has to stop his hands mid-air, a few inches from her shoulders. He is caught somewhere between wanting to comfort her and wanting to wring her fool neck for trying to sneak out.
"What exactly were you doing out here?" he asks, his voice cold.
"M-my apologies, My Lord, it will not happen again, I promise..." she says in lieu of an answer.
"No," he replies in a cool tone that betrays nothing of his worry, "it will not. Where is your guard?"
Another flinch. He lets out a slow breath, the sound coming out as more of a growl.
"At least Alassé had the sense not to let you outside the gate. Do not test my patience, Tauriel, I will have you locked in your room if you attempt to leave the palace without a guard again. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, My Lord."
It is barely a whisper.
With a long-suffering sigh, Thranduil picks up her bow and wraps her hand around it, watching as she clutches it tight against her chest, blinking her glassy, sightless eyes as she fights tears. He then places an arm about her shoulders, noticing her start in surprise, and begins to lead her along the path he had been walking down. She keeps pace with him without question, her head still bowed. As they walk together through the garden, he watches her fidget nervously, mumbling apologies whenever she mis-steps or brushes up against him. She's been so jumpy around him these past months...
A thought creeps into his mind then, and his eyebrows pinch together unhappily as he considers it.
"Tauriel," he asks after a few minutes.
"Yes, My Lord?"
"...do you fear me?"
She stops up short, her eyes wide, and he pauses as well, watching her reactions closely.
Her mouth opens and she fights for a moment to find words, but winds up ducking her head again.
"I...do not know what you ask..."
"You avoid me. You duck away when I am near, and try to flee as soon as you are allowed. Why?"
"I-I'm sorry, My Lord..." she starts, taking a pace back, but he catches her chin in his hand and tilts her face up to look at him before she can get far.
"Do not hide," he commands, "answer me. Are you frightened of me?"
She swallows and blinks, and tears are brimming in her pale eyes.
"Yes, My Lord," she whispers at last. He winces at the reply, and the memory of speaking the words at her sentencing tastes like bile on his tongue.
"I did not wish to do this to you, child," he says softly, at length, his thumb gently stroking tears from her cheek.
Tauriel shakes her head sharply.
"No, My Lord, this is no more than I deserved. I knew the risk when I...when I stood against you."
"Then why is it that you fear me?"
Tauriel's eyes slip closed for a long second, pooling liquid along her bottom lashes, and he sees her fists clench around her tunic.
"You will throw me out," she whispers brokenly, gazing up at him with sightless eyes, and suddenly it all makes sense. Foolish little thing.
He does reach out to her now, plucking leaves from her hair before cradling her face in his hands.
"You have already paid for your wrongs, child," he says softly as she closes her eyes, sending twin tears racing over her cheeks. "I am not angry with you, nor will I send you away. I promise."
She nods slightly, and when a sob wracks her small frame he can no longer help himself.
He hushes her as she begins to cry, drawing her against his chest and holding her close.
"Tauriel," he soothes, rubbing a hand up and down her back, "I would not throw you out. Why did you think I would?"
"Y-you hate me," she sobs, and he hugs her tighter.
"Oh, you foolish child... I was angry with you for a time, yes, but do not think that I hate you, dear one. Far from it."
"You have me guarded-" she starts, and he brushes his hand gently through her hair to silence her, catching the red locks and pulling them back from where they stick to her damp cheeks.
"I only send guards with you because I fear for your safety. It would devastate me should anything befall you, and you seem to be doing your best to get yourself killed when I am not looking," he says, leaning back a bit and using the trailing corner of his sleeve to dry her tears before hugging her close again. "I was concerned, that is all. I hold no ill will towards you."
Her hands are fisted tightly in his robes, her face buried in his collar, and he feels her nod.
"I was so worried that-" Her voice catches in another sob and he cuts her off.
"I know. But I would not throw you out. No matter how you insist on testing my patience."
She makes a small sound in the back of her throat at that, and he dares to hope that it may have been a laugh.
He is not sure how much time they spend standing there, but it is a long while before her tears run out. He doesn't loosen his grip, feeling the need to make up for weeks of her shying away from him by keeping her close while he has the chance. Her head is resting against his shoulder, and he can feel her soft, even breaths warming his neck. She is playing with the fabric of his robe absently.
"I truly am sorry," she whispers at length.
"I know," he murmurs as he runs a hand over her head and down through her hair. "And I have long since forgiven you."
He can see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she settles her head more comfortably into the crook of his neck. He smiles as well, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"I am quite serious about locking you in your room if you sneak off, however," he adds, a touch of sternness in his voice, "I will not have you getting lost in the forest. You are to take someone with you if you wish to leave the palace. Do you understand?"
She nods again, and he lets out a small sigh, resting his head against hers.
"You and Legolas are going to be the death of me."
She lets out a choking laugh at that, and he smiles.
It is only another ten minutes before someone comes looking for the sightless captain. He can hear a voice from a distance, the crackle of a body pushing through branches coming closer with the shouts, but ignores it until the person has nearly caught up with them.
"Tauriel? Tauriel!"
Thranduil looks up as the frantic voice gets near, taking a pace back to put himself at a respectable distance from the elleth in question just as a young guard comes running into view. The soldier skids to a stop when she sees him and ducks into a deep bow, stammering apologies.
"Rise," he interrupts, recognizing her as the guard that he assigned Tauriel that morning. Tauriel has also recognized the guard by her voice, and he sees her flush with embarrassment. The guard is visibly relieved once her eyes fall on Tauriel, but it is only a second before her eyes flick to him in concern.
"It is all right, Alassé, Tauriel was safe with me. You will not have to worry about her running off on her own again. Isn't that right, Tauriel?" he asks pointedly, and Tauriel dips her head, blushing.
"Yes, My Lord."
He fights a smirk from his face and turns back to the guard.
"Please escort Lady Tauriel back to her room, she's had a rather trying day and could use some rest."
Alassé steps forward and entwines her arm with Tauriel's, and the two young women bow briefly to him before leaving, Alassé hissing a lecture to Tauriel the whole way for tricking her. Thranduil watches until they are out of sight and then returns to his evening stroll, a plan forming in his mind.