Princess of the Woodland Realm||LOTR

Orc Interrogation

Aranel stood across from Tauriel as Legolas held the Orc up in the centre of the throne room, a knife pressed to the creature's neck. Her blue eyes followed her father as he circled his son and the creature. The Orc knew the Elven princess was staring at her and the princess was thankful the wretched creature's back was to her.

"Such is the nature of evil, out there in the vast ignorance of the world it festers and spreads, a shadow that grows in the dark. A sleepless malice as black as the oncoming wall of night. So it ever was; so will it always be. In time, all foul things come forth." Her father's voice was smooth, yet there was a calm about it that Aranel didn't like. A voice that used to comfort her when she was a child could bring their enemies fear when Thranduil wanted it to.

"You were tracking a company of thirteen Dwarves. Why?" Legolas asked, slightly shaking the Orc. Aranel studied the filthy creature. The King stopped circling, standing next to his daughter and folding his arms over his chest.

"Not thirteen; not anymore. The young one, the black-haired archer. We stuck him with a Morgul shaft. The poison's in his blood. He'll be choking on it soon." The Orc snickered. Aranel could see the growing anger in Tauriel's eyes, anger that would be her undoing.

"Answer the question, filth." Tauriel snapped at him, her dagger hanging loosely at her side. Aranel and Thranduil shared a slight look of contempt. Her own anger had risen slightly at the Orc's inability to answer Legolas' question.

"I do not answer to dogs, She-Elf." Aranel listened as the Orc insulted their companion. Tauriel spun her knife around, poised to strike. The filth struggled in Legolas' strong grip. 

"I would not antagonise her." The Prince spoke, pulling his own knife tighter to the Orc's neck.

"You like killing things, Orc? You like death?" Aranel and Thranduil shared another knowing look, eyes locking for one moment, then flitting them back to the scene in front of them. "Then let me give it to you." Tauriel rushed to the Orc.

"Enough! Tauriel, leave. Go now!" Thranduil spoke out, causing the red head. The King's eyes said everything he wanted to say. He was disappointed in her. She'd let her anger get the better of her, something he had trained her to get better control of. Tauriel reluctantly withdrew from the Orc and brushed past Aranel on her way out. The youngest blonde glared after the younger Elf as she strode down the stairs and towards the gates. 

"I do not care about one dead Dwarf. Answer the question. You have nothing to fear. Tell us what you know, and I will set you free." Aranel watched her brother intently, wondering what the real plan was. Legolas looked to their father sharply, also uncertain.

"You had orders to kill them. Why? What is Thorin Oakenshield to you?" Legolas asked, turning his attention back to the filth in his hold. The Orc laughed at his question.

"The Dwarf runt will never be King." He spoke with disdain and disgust.

"King? There is no King Under the Mountain, nor will there ever be. None would dare enter Erebor whilst the Dragon lives." Legolas said. Even Aranel knew this to be true.

"You know nothing! Your world will burn." Aranel's hand slowly went to the bow on her back. She didn't take kindly to threats over her family, kin, or her homeland, even from a lowly, filthy Orc. Thranduil's hand pushed hers away from her bow, sensing his daughter's rising anger. It was his way of telling her to control her emotions, his eyes never leaving his son. The younger Elf straightened up, puffing her chest out gently, regaining her composure.

"What are you talking about? Speak!" Legolas antagonised the Orc, who laughed at his surprise. Thranduil had turned from his daughter and moved away, stepping closer to his throne.