C H A P T E R 12 - It's in the eyes, it's always in the eyes...
~Till my last day~
"Ughhh..." The elleth groaned, tying knots upon knots in the sheets. This was taking too long... Simbelmynë had felt like she'd been at this for hours. Her eyes kept darting between the sheets, the balcony and the door. The door was kept shut with multiple pieces of furniture in front of it, though for a few moments she had heard the jiggling of keys and the door knob turning, it went away rather quickly.
Every sheet, every blanket, even the pillow covers were all attached together. Finally, she could get out of here. She threw the heap of sheets off the balcony, watching them tumble down the wall and to the ground.
Her eyes squinted over the balcony, trying to see how far down the rope of blankets went. She couldn't see. It was one of those moments the elleth just had to have faith. This was going to be a lot more difficult considering what she was dressed in.
The garment was white and flowed long behind her. The dress crossed over her chest and had a small cut out at her medial. The outfit also had a cape, draped elegantly down her shoulder blades. Not exactly the ideal climbing costume...
Supposedly, she just had to trust she could reach the bottom of the palace. Simbelmynë had placed trust in worse she supposed...
With that thought, she wrapped the sheet around her arm, standing on the balconies ledge, air left her lungs and escaped her lips. She jumped. The sheets unwound above on the balcony, whirling out of control before stopping. Had she made it?
Not quite.
But that was fine. She let go, dropping down and landing on her target. That wasn't so hard... she thought. Simbelmynë brushed off her hands on her outfit, still feeling the savage friction on her hands. Her bright blue eyes scanned the environment once more- no guards, no other elves. Clear. Quickly, she sauntered through the doors back into the palace
She had managed to plant herself in the library. A large and grand library in that, but she didn't have time to admire the wondrousness of the room or any of the books. Simbelmynë wandered straight past the many shelves, making a beeline for the door.
Simbelmynë was so over the thousand of halls in this place. She missed Beorn, his small cottage and his animals. Life there was a lot simpler a day ago than in this large and confusing realm, with about a thousand halls.
Left and right, straight down the hall and down a spiral staircase- was it ever going to end?
The elf made it to a clearing, a room. It had what looked like a lounge and a wall of books, a fountain in the corner and- oh no.
It had a King... and Tauriel.
She flew behind a pillar, quietly, pulling the loose pieces of the dress with her and away from sight.
"Other lands are not my concern," He spoke, his head held high as always, "the fortunes of the world will rise and fall, but here in this kingdom, we will endure." The king continued, his voice echoing through out the room.
It went quiet. Tauriel bowed her head and turned, ready to make her leave.
"Legolas said you fought well today," Thranduil claimed out of nowhere. Simbelmynë could hear the elleth's footsteps halt in her path, listening to the King's next words. "He's grown very fond of you," he continued nonchalantly.
"I assure, my Lord, Legolas thinks of me as not more than a Captain of the Guard," It was like you could almost hear the panic in her voice.
"Perhaps he did once. Now I'm not so sure." the King walked past her, his tone sounding almost annoyed. He reached past her for the decanter, pouring himself a glass.
"I do not think that you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly Silvan Elf," Tauriel spoke, sounding hopeful, only for the buffoon with power to shut her down completely. Simbelmynë rolled her eyes; only he could be so cruel.
"No, you are right, l would not," he uttered, emotionless, "still, he cares about you. Do not give him hope where there is none."
Tauriel's eyes filled with tears, struggling with how lowly he thought of her. Clearly she was not high enough standard for Legolas. Was she even good enough to be in his presence?
Tauriel left, Simbelmynë's eyes following her until she was out of sight and her footsteps could no longer be heard.
"You are cruel," She spoke in the silence, watching him turn to face her, a glass of wine in his hand.
He sighed deeply, leaning back against the table, drowning in the image of her before him. "I thought I heard something uninvited," Thranduil trailed.
"How could I be uninvited if I am held against my will?" Simbelmynë questioned, pacing back and forth around the room, examining every inch of it to find any points of escape. There were none.
"It is in your best interest,"
Her brow rose, "and who are you to decide this for me?"
"It does not matter, you would not believe a word I have to say," Thranduil wandered closer, sipping from his glass slowly, his bright eyes not leaving hers.
"So there is some wisdom in you after all," The elf replied, yanking at the train of her dress. It was ridiculously impractical, and they lived in the forrest? Was the purpose of the garment to get stuck to a tree?
He watched her movements with a gleam in his eye, it was interesting. His Queen loved long and flowy gowns in many gorgeous colours, along with her hair immaculately done with jewels and charms littering her form. This elf was much different. "I do apologise for asking, but were you trying to escape?" He quizzed.
"That is none of your business,"
"You will not be able to," Thranduil advised her, returning back to his station of wine and leaving his empty glass, tempted to pour himself another with how this conversation was going.
"Why?" The elleth wondered, her head tilting to the side, eyes gazing into his very soul.
"I have told you before, I will not let you. Not until you know the truth," The King reaffirmed.
She brushed a loose hair from her face and behind her ear, it annoyed her. "The only truth I have seen is how much of a liar you are, and I know why," her tone sounded strong, not faltering and showing no fear.
"Enlighten me," he simply spoke.
"The King of the Woodland Realm is stuck in grief; a dead wife, excluded kingdom, withdrawn son. Your life is nothing, and so when you see another elleth who may look vaguely like your dead love... The King cannot help himself. His grief is overwhelming, he crumbles, much like his lineage, his kingdom and his name." From the look in his eye she knew she was right as much as he would probably never admit. It was obvious, all around them. Simbelmynë had not seen a single portrait or piece of the forgotten Queen, and so she could only assume she looked somewhat like her.
The King was as lost as his forgotten Queen.
Simbelmynë expected him to scream, to yell at her in anger. To finally be done with this idea he had created in his mind and finally throw her in his dungeons along with her company. But he didn't.
Thranduil looked on at her longingly, "I do not care of my name, or kingdom, I would let the entire middle earth burn in dragons flame; for a single second more with my Asteraêa."
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