The Witch's Destiny || Thranduil

Chapter XI

"Then you came here, and 'tis very rare that feeling enters your eyes. Everyone is shaped by their own experiences. My father is not an exception to this. You would understand his plight more than most. I suppose what I am trying to say is, you are good for each other as friends. Talk to him."

No matter how uncomfortable I am at the notion.

Violet breathed out through her nose, leaning her head against Legolas's shoulder. "We were running for our lives that year, and still, the situation we have found ourselves in seems more stressful."

The prince returned the gesture, resting his own head on yours. "Aye, 'tis true. Last time we kidnapped and interrogated someone together, you did not get injured."

She laughed, muffling her snorts. "I underestimated the orc's stupidity, or perhaps his bravery. I thought I scared him enough."

"Well, nobody is perfect." They lifted their heads and looked at each other, before he bumped her shoulder with his. "Least of all you."

"Git!" She laughed, swatting at his shoulder.

"You wound me!" he cried dramatically, clutching his shoulder with his hand, "Say, where is your little creature?"

"That little creature has a name, you know," she said, raising a brow, "He's actually with your father. Flufflepuff seems to enjoy the king's company and vice versa."

"Father has always had a way with animals, though all elves do. If I remember correctly, it's a quality you both share. Flufflepuff must be really happy here."

Violet nodded with a grin placed on her face. "I guess I should go make up with your father, for Flufflepuff's sake."

"Aye, you should. For Flufflepuff's sake, of course. Not for the fate of Middle-Earth or anything of the sort."

"You're cheeky today."

"Someone has to make up for what you and adar are lacking today."

Violet shook her head, getting up from the table, and waving goodbye to Legolas, successfully resisting the urge to flip him off. He wouldn't know what it means anyways, which takes away all of the satisfaction, in Violet's not-so-humble opinion.

Regardless, he was right. Whatever her own feelings may be, there were more important things at stake. The ever-growing threat of Sauron and his orc armies were much more important than that ever-growing flame that she didn't understand to be the source of her ire.

And so, with a renewed source of purpose, the witch set off on her mission. She stalked through the palace, shoulders held back, and head high, looking for Thranduil. He wasn't in the throne room, nor his study, and she definitely was not going to go back to his bedroom uninvited.

Then, the music came floating through the hallways, a somber tone, yet shockingly romantic. Looking at Thranduil sitting at the piano was something Violet was sure deserved to be a painting. His eyes were closed with his brow slightly furrowed, head swaying to the music, fingers floating across the keys. His head was bare of its crown, just free floating down his back in all his elven glory. Flufflepuff sat on the piano top, the vibrations and music keeping him lulled into a deep nap.

"That was... beautifully somber," Violet said, leaning against the doorway. Her arms were slightly crossed, with one side tucked and the other holding onto her elbow. Mentally, she kicked herself for being nervous, as she swallowed the lump in her throat. "Who wrote it?"

Immediately upon hearing his mother's voice, the Pygmy Puff woke up, rushing to greet Violet as he scurried up her leg, settling into her neck.

Thranduil smiled softly, posture relaxed and open, a big difference from what she was expecting. "That would be me." He patted the spot next to him. "Come. Sit."