Disclaimer; It really isn't mine, I promise. I'm just evilly subjecting Tolkien's characters to sadistic humor.
"Why do you have such an issue with the palace?" Durion asked as he removed the gag after Kiera calmed down. They were nearing the Mirkwood Village.
Kiera scowled at him, "Because its full of alert, and maybe smelly, elves, which are just as bad as guards."
"Elves don't smell." Answered the royal son of Thanduil. She still couldn't bring herself to call him Legolas.
Kiera snorted, "Well, you're a bit biased aren't you? Maybe other people think you smell."
"We take frequent baths…unlike your race." The last three words were muttered, but she heard them anyway.
Kiera's eyes flashed. "The son of Thranduil? Racist? I'll have you know that just because 'my race' the Second Born does not give your race the right to think they can lord it over us. While we may not have your strength, grace, beauty, among other improved traits, and besides the fact that we manage to find disagreements everywhere, which result in your equivalent of Kinslaying, we're doing quite well on our own without elven qualities. No race is superior because each has its own faults."
"Lovely speech." Durion commented, "I'd applaud you if my hands weren't busy making sure you didn't run away."
Kiera rolled her eyes. "Like that's possible with five freakishly enhanced beings guarding me."
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." Said a new voice.
"Good idea." Kiera snapped.
"You know our history, then." The son of Thranduil said quietly, distracting Kiera from trying to burn the elf alive with her glare.
Kiera shrugged, "Everyone knows about the Kinslaying and the curse of Mandos because it was so vile. You see, if men fight, its natural because that's the way we are portrayed, as warmongering people. But elves…you're held to higher standards…people expect you to be the peacemakers not the ones with the out of control temper."
"My mother was Noldor." Durion said in his whispery voice.
Kiera raised an eyebrow, "What about your father?"
"He was human…your kind."
Kiera now raised both eyebrows, "Really? Half elven? You?" She snorted and aimed her next comment at the prince, "So all along you've been insulting your own? I don't think that's very wise as a future ruler."
The prince snapped, "What I do is my own business, and I don't care much about your version of wisdom, seeing as you are a thief."
"Aha! So you admit I'm not a rogue."
"A slip of tongue. Besides, Durion has more than earned my trust as an advisor and warrior."
Durion replied dryly, "I'm flattered. I don't think I've blushed this much since your mother told me that she liked my new cloak."
Kiera snickered, she liked Durion.
She felt someone fooling with her tied hands and turned her head around. A strange, willowy elf with a sharp knife was currently untying her hands.
"Wait what?" Kiera asked in confusion.
The elf halted and looked at her with upraised eyebrows.
"Oh no, by all means, don't let me stop you…but why exactly are you untying me? Aren't I your prisoner?"
"Yes." Durion said in a no-nonsense tone.
"No." the thieves' royal bane said at the same time.
Durion sighed, "Technically you are, due to the many times you stole from the king's property, but under these circumstances we'd very much like to have you on our side."
"What circumstances?" Kiera asked suspiciously.
"You'll find out." Said the royal. "And don't try anything just because you're untied."
"I wouldn't dream of it." Kiera drawled as they marched through the village toward the palace.
Durion watched her through the corner of his eyes as he, the prince, and the prince's guard were waiting to be admitted to Thranduil's study. She was sitting in a chair, her right leg drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around it, chin resting on her knee.
In the light of the palace, he saw her features were sharp. She had dirty tangled brown hair with a tint of copper that she had bound in a braid. Her wary eyes were a blue-grey.
She wore leggings and a tunic like a man, but she had told him that she didn't mind wearing dresses at all. It made sense, Durion concluded, that she should wear what she did if she was going to get around without much of a hassle.
She had a runner's body, lean and fit. But she wasn't tense, as he had expected her to be; she looked relaxed, bored, and supremely unconcerned.
She also smelled like sweet pea.
As wrong as it was, he was a bit intrigued by this female. After all, they were on different sides of the law.
"The king is ready for you," Said a female attendant as she came out of the King's study.
He, Legolas, and the thief, Kiera, rose and walked toward the open door. Legolas, with his brisk, hurried walk, and Kiera with her graceful lope.
"I do hope this is all worth the trouble." He heard Kiera murmur to the young prince.
"Even if it isn't for you, it will be for us."
Durion saw her eyes flash with anger as she realized what the statement meant. She knew that even after this assignment, if she agreed to do it and lived to tell the tale, she would be a prisoner still.
Kiera didn't expect the King's study to be welcoming. She didn't expect it to be richly furnished with mahogany and expensive rugs. She didn't expect a broken bow to be hanging on the wall, alongside a poorly made tapestry of a horse cantering on a field. It looked as if a child had made it.
But they were
She certainly didn't expect King Thranduil to be holding a wine glass in one hand and a book in the other, reading.
But he was.
"Ah. So here you are at last." The king said when the three walked in.
At last? You were the one to keep us waiting. Kiera thought with a momentary flash of annoyance. Kings.
Thranduil set down his wine and his book, and folded his hands. He looked at Kiera and said, "So you're our elusive thief. Kiera, isn't it?"
Wisely, Kiera kept quiet.
Thranduil cleared his throat and went on, "It's lucky chance we found you, actually. You see, we have a job for you."
'We', as in all of the elves? Or the royal 'we'? She wasn't doing anything personal for the king. That was a definite no-no.
Kiera raised an eyebrow, "That being…?"
"We need you to put your excellent thieving skills to work and do a bit of spy work for us. There's been a disturbance at our eastern borders. None of the guards have sent a word for a while now, and any messengers we've sent have not returned. Obviously there's something wrong there, and we need you to find out what."
"Why don't you just send one of your own?"
Thranduil said in a straining-to-be-patient sort of voice, "We did. They have not returned either."
Kiera nodded, understanding how hard it must be for a king of the immortal elves to admit that a human could do a job better than his own. Still, she couldn't help smirking a bit.
She eyed the king suspiciously and asked, "What if I don't want to do it?"
Thranduil's face clouded and his eyes narrowed. "Then we'll throw you into the dungeons for all the crimes you have committed against my people in my territory."
"And that wouldn't happen if I did do the job?"
Thranduil waved a hand, "Of course it would. You do understand that after this assignment is over, if you live, you will still stand a trial for your actions."
Kiera sighed, "That's not much incentive for getting the job done."
"Think of it as repaying us for the clothes on your back and the weapons in your…well, the weapons that used to be in your hand."
"That'll be a comforting thought when I'm rotting in your dungeon!" Kiera shot back.
Thranduil rose, towering above them in his anger. "Hold your tongue!"
Kiera strode forward and braced herself on Thranduil's desk.
"Listen, Thranduil." She hissed, "There's two ways we can do this. Your way, or mine. I suggest we do it my way."
The king looked down at her and laughed, "Or what? There's no two ways about it, Kiera. There's only one way we can do this…my way."
Kiera attempted to stare the king down, and lost. He was right after all. She was trapped. There was no way she could escape the dungeons after she finished the assignment. But if she ran away during it…
"Of course, because we fear for your health so, I will be sending an escort with you."
Kiera sighed mentally. If he seriously thought that one puny elf would keep her from running away, he had some issues.
She looked down and smirked. Of course, she wasn't about to enlighten him of that fact.
"I've decided Durion will be your escort, by the way."
Kiera's head snapped up and around to stare at the said elf.
It would be so much harder (mentally) to escape from him. He was all right for an elf, and she knew that he would probably be punished when she escaped from his supervision.
Kiera turned back to the King and said, "Well, Thranduil, thanks for the lovely chat, but I've got me some orcs to watch."
Thranduil smiled without any humor, "Of course Kiera. And by the way…"
Kiera raised an eyebrow.
"Most people call me King Thranduil…you should follow the suit."
Is that a threat or a suggestion?
Kiera spitefully threw her last barb at the king, wanting desperately to get even with him for trapping her in this situation.
"Get used to disappointment where I'm concerned Thranduil, because I'm not like most people."
One look at the King's face and Durion grabbed Kiera by the arm and whispered in her ear, "I think you've overstayed your welcome."
Kiera rolled her eyes but let Durion lead her out of the study with Legolas tailing behind.
"As if I didn't know."