The Mountain of Light
Disclaimer: I am saying this from the core of my heart: if I had owned The Hobbit, or hell, even Thranduil, The Hobbit would be a slash (Thorinduil) shipper's paradise~~
AN: So before my last exam, I just HAD to relax and HAD to write a chapter! :D Thank you everyone who've reviewed/faved/followed. You are all amazing people!
Thanks to velvet_vampiress (she's in Ao3) for this amazing fanart. Check it out. I guarrantee you people a nosebleed!
h_t_t_p (colon) (slash) (slash) grinningdarling.t_u_m_b_l_ (slash) image (slash) 86678528482
(it's in tumblr. This damned site is really really hell bent on making me mad.)
Chapter 9
The dwarf guard hurried as fast as his legs could carry him. He set a pace which made his legs cramp because of the sheer strain of it but at that moment, he could care less. All that was in his mind was that he had to reach the throne room. He had to warn the guards.
He had news to give, one he feared could not even wait for a second longer and one he feared would not be taken lightly.
The doors flew open and sounds of footsteps could be heard, echoing through the great halls of Erebor. Each march made was in absolute determination and the one who lead them stepped with such surety that could only be granted from pride and a certain taste of victory.
Just as they left the House of Commons (1), Thranduil and his cohorts were stopped by two guards whose steely glare conveyed all the unwelcoming messages they thought of.
It hardly deterred the elven king. He raised his chin and let his strong gaze sweep over them. With the barest hint of a smirk marring his lips, he said with superiority, "Move aside, dwarves. We are expected."
The guards moved in closer tightly packing their formation but Thranduil's authority didn't falter. He raised his brows in amusement before his eyes became fiercer and more determined. The guards didn't budge and Thranduil didn't step back.
At the sight of insolence their king received, few of the elf guards who had escorted him, became alarmed and immediately adjusted their postures so that at any sign of threat, they could take the hairy ones down.
Thranduil sensed their anxiety and with a wave of his hand commanded them to restrain themselves while he continued to focus his glare at the small defiant creatures beneath him.
An uncomfortable air hung between all of them. Just when it was threatening to worsen, someone yelled to the guards. He was rushed and frantic and he had every reason to be.
"Let them pass!" The other dwarf said, "They have 'em. The king will decide."
At that, the guards' stance faltered for a bit while they looked startled. They still refused to believe what they had just heard and since confusion was painted all over their faces, Thranduil glided his hand in a smooth gesture. The elf guards stepped in such a way that the centre of their group now parted, presenting to them the very heart of Erebor.
Thorin and Kíli.
The princes who looked utterly displeased and completely mutinous. They weren't taken prisoner but from the looks of their faces, it was well guessed that they preferred to be instead of being in that predicament.
Seeing the hesitance on the guards' part, Thranduil's eyes flashed with an emotion which was nothing but arrogance and success.
He had them where he wanted.
The guards' hesitated for a second longer and looked up to see the elven king's smug face that made them sneer at him. Realizing that they really had no option but to comply, slowly the dissolved their formation and stiffly stepped away, letting the consort pass while their eyes flashed with rage as they were kept directed at the insolent group.
Thrór's eyes sparkled as he saw his youngest great grandson stepping up to him. He had a look of shame and contained fire behind his eyes. Thorin accompanied him but Thrór didn't spare him so much of a glance.
"Welcome home!" He greeted, his voice reflecting the mirth his eyes barely concealed.
Thorin huffed at the response and shot a dirty glare at the king and as for Kíli...surprisingly, he nodded stiffly while straightening his carriage.
The king shifted in his throne and strained his eyes—which relaxed the moment after he saw a small leather pouch peeking out of Kíli's coat.
Kíli's facial features hardened under the inspection and even though he seemed uncomfortable, he didn't say it out loud.
However, Thrór really wasn't interested in all of those pleasantries. He quickly came to the main point, "I knew I could trust you." His voice was cheerful.
Suddenly, his eyes started shining uncannily as his face portrayed a look that no one ever had the privilege of seeing on the wise king's face—certainly not Kíli.
In that moment, Thrór's mind washed out every other thought as a chant rang monotonously. His eyes round and a crazed smile in place, he said in a tone which didn't conceal the obsession he felt, "C'mon lad! Show it to me!"
Thorin shot a sharp glare at him but and Kíli's eyes widened for a split second before hardening right after. But in his state, Thrór registered none of it.
His eyes were fixed on the pouch and the longer the young one made him wait, more his impatience threatened an outburst.
"C'mon laddie!" He coaxed but it was feigned much like his affection.
Kíli still hesitated and it was then that Thrór could no longer hold his annoyance.
"Hurry up with it, boy!" He seethed and didn't miss the surprise coming off from both his grandson and his great grandson.
He growled when still no one moved and with raging steps, made his way towards them himself. However, before he could snatch the bag away from his great grandson, he was quickly stopped by a voice, which he never hoped to hear.
"Such rashness does no one good, king under the mountain." The voice spoke in a tone ever so rich and silky and laced with a smug playfulness which increased the rage Thrór felt towards its owner.
He shifted his line of vision to the source and at the sight before him, he absolutely fumed.
His frown deepened and his eyes narrowed so much that the wrinkles on his face become grooves and furrows, making him look the mad man he was as the shadow enhanced them.
"You." He growled while the fiery rage within him increasing as the haughty and insolent face of the elven king came into his view.
His face had no indication of his defiance but Thranduil's eyes gave off every bit of superciliousness that he didn't deem it necessary to hide.
"Ah, you remember." Thranduil spoke in that same smooth and seductive tone, "And here I thought the madness erased your poor memory."
Thrór's sneer became prominent as the elf approached him with his chin raised high while he exuded an air of arrogance.
"But you would." He went on, standing right beside Kíli and sparing a strange glance at Thorin before focusing on the addressed, "How could you not? You can never forget your cheap trick when you insulted me and denied me only that what was rightfully considered as courtesy."
"You were denied your indulgence in jewels—carved laboriously by my kin." Thrór retorted back venomously, "Cheapness came from you, elven king when you decided to share bed with my progeny. Yes, I am aware. I am not incompetenet to know what goes on under my roof. But can the same be said about you?"
At that, Thranduil's eyes flashed furiously in a heartbeat's time before becoming impassive yet sharp all the same.
"Cheapness comes from your kin when they could even think that they can claim that which is not theirs." He paused, taking in the other's form before continuing, "Of course, I can't blame them. They follow orders from their mad king with a mad obsession."
Thranduil didn't give the other time to respond as he snatched away the pouch from Kíli. He opened it hastily and revealed the fabled beauty which made Thrór's mind go blank yet again as the dwarf king stared at it in a deep stupor.
It was so ethereal...so close to his reach.
Thranduil saw the hypnotic gaze the other held and let his own eyes convey the inner fire he bore from the extreme insult Thrór made him face.
"This is what you wanted all along, isn't it so you fixated fool?" He admonished putting it away from the other's reach, "Watch it well. For you shall never have it."
Having said that, he spared the other two dwarves one last glance before turning on his heels and commanding his consort to leave the halls immediately.
As he stared at Thranduil's retreating back, Thrór's face contorted and wrinkled massively as the anger and humiliation ate him up inside.
His whole face vibrated with enclosed rage and his eyes grew wider and wider, looking extremely livid and portrayed another emotion that was so foreign and so dark.
Perhaps someone addressed him. Perhaps it was Thorin or Kíli. He didn't know. He didn't register.
His ears burned and he trembled in fury as Thranduil got his revenge by dangling it in front of him and taking it away. Thranduil took his desire away.
Thranduil would pay.
AN: (1) I am pretty sure that they didn't name it the 'House of commons' but I didn't know what else to call it.
Hope you liked it~ Please review!