Thranduil's Desire (Lord of the Rings Fanfiction)

Chapter 13: Dishonest Truth

"Tauriel," Thranduil's voice echoed throughout the darkest and gloomy setting as his chin inches toward his side. He seemed calm, regal and unfazed, but his tone said otherwise. His eyes pressed down to the floor as his golden like strands follow in elegance. "See to it that he lives," Thranduil's voice hissed silently, yet potently shifts his head immediately to the right where his eyes had rested on a thievish orc.

Tauriel looked down at the maiden with wistful eyes not wanting to leave her stead and this was clearly the reason why Thranduil had ordered her withdrawal. This, she had figured out herself. Alya looked at Tauriel and forced a light smile, so as not to have wavered her from following her sovereign.

Thranduil took a step forward, his body swaying to the right so agile and just. And as he did so, his hands slowly clench behind his back. Now, Thranduil was standing high before the orc, his eyes never leaving Thranduil's. The king's chin sharpened as it etched upwards saying finally, "I will not say it a second time, Tauriel. And....." He paused for a rare, yet brief moment. "Bring the guards with you," Thranduil paused huffing a breath of air as his lips gasped open, allowing everyone to feel Thranduil's intensity.

"I have some matters to attend to," Thranduil lowers his head towards the orc. "ALONE."

Tauriel turns to the maiden, looks at her and bows her chin in accord. Slowly she wisps to the side where the guards lifted the unconscious, lifeless body, beginning to drip a Mors crimson liquid. "Let's go," Tauriel ushered forward as the guards swiftly followed after.

Tauriel glanced back once more to see the maiden wince in place. Her head lowered further facing their King. Tauriel squeezed her fingers against her palm and pretend as if she had never glanced back.

Alya's heart beat was the only thing she could possibly hear. She heard her fear, her guilt, but suddenly she felt this urge to no longer hear it. She wanted to be brave for once. She knew her mistake and acknowledged them in her heart, but was this really her mistake? Her conscience, pestered her onwards.

"It's my fault," she bellowed as her expression shifted. Legolas immediately looked up towards Alya, speculated. Alya was shifted to where she would look upon Thranduil's back, where robes of fine satin and silk engulf his broad shoulders, slendering down his torso and feet.

Because of this, she could not peer or take a glimpse at Thranduil's reaction and this bothered her slightly. Her calves begin to shiver simultaneously as her macabre and patched fists crumpled the very gown that was no longer a shade of white.

"And how is that?" Thranduil's voice deepened, allowing him to speak softly, yet somehow soothing. Perhaps even alluring.

Alya tensed subconsciously.

"Perhaps you think it is your fault for luring them here? Is it not?" Thranduil finally turned around to view the maiden. His height showing a great deal more so than Alya's, separating the two of them unknowingly. Frightening as it may seem, all Alya could do was look to the floor unable to even utter a word out of fear.

The entire time Thranduil was merely observing the maidens every word and every move she made. Thranduil's eyes seeped into Alya and she could not stop feeling such immense pressure thrusting against her chest.

"No," Alya's voice stuttered at the quivering silence between them as she let out a painful gasp of air.

"No?" Thranduil's thick brows furrowed.

"That's not the reason," her voice lessened greatly. A long pause leveled throughout the atmosphere. Before Thranduil could speak, the maiden looks up to him, her eyes glittering with doubt. Somehow they begin to stir a feeling within Thranduil that she wasn't just nothing. That perhaps she was yearning for something, something that Thranduil perhaps could give.

"The real reason is......"

A snaring growl suddenly blasts the air surrounding them. The orc, down on his knees blew air through his nostrils and pierced his gaze onto Alya without even so much as a flinch. But before anything could happen, Legolas jabs his elbow onto the orc's scapula driving it painfully face down to the brittling floor.

Alya stricken with fear could no longer move just from his gaze. Her eyes pulsed with dread as they morph to a dark gray, lifeless and unfleeting color.

Legolas jams the blade at the side of the orc's neck further, cutting the very fabric of his skin open. Blood raced down the orc's neck drop by drop, deep blue, nearly black as his voice muffled into snarls.

"Let that be your final warning, orc," Legolas lowered his face down to the orcs as he slowly sways the knife making the orc grumble in pain. "I will not be so merciful next time. Do it again and the last thing you will see is your head deprived from your body."

Legolas does not cease his constant stare on the orc and instead the orc turns his head forward, saliva dribbling down the side of his lips.

Thranduil watched as Legolas looked back up to him slowly and then without fully turning towards the maiden, Thranduil locked eyes at this frail elf, stricken and lifeless as peered upon.

Whatever the orc had done shifted every sensation, every feel, and every remorse in that very room, but most importantly, it shifted the maiden's very conscience.

"What is the reason?" Thranduil coaxed the words out of his mouth, making it lighter, hoping that this would help calm her, but instead his hopes diminished and deprived the maiden that of which she could barely even think of.

She remained quiet and struck in place as if air never left her chest nor caved in to it.

Thranduil took a step forward, slowly extending his hands beyond that of his body. His robe slung against his bicep allowing it to extend further against his hand.

Alya closed her eyes feeling tears seep to the tips of her eye lids. The distance of space between the elves minimize as Thranduil breaks it little by little. Sensing her kings hand move closer towards her direction, grief began to fill every inch of being she thought she possibly was. More than ever did she want to feel Thranduil's cool finger tips coursing the strands of her hair or the sensation of his palm yearning to warm her cheek, but this was not what she wanted. Not like this.

The more she thought of it, the more it angered her.

Before Thranduil's hand could even touch the strands of her light grey hair, the maiden had lifted her fist, striking Thranduil's hand away from her.

"Why?"

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Merry Christmas y'all! God bless and like always, look forward to more of the chapters. I will be posting more soon in the next couple of days. Don't forget to vote, comment, and share!