𝗗𝗨𝗦𝗞 𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗗𝗔𝗪𝗡 𖤓 thranduil

( 06. ) curious cat

"My beauty?" Her voice flowed throughout his ears like silk, "Careful, pretty boy. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have a crush on me." Thranduil was the one to roll his eyes this time—but in a graceful elven way, of course. She could just tell he was getting tired of her—and it made her want to mess with him even more.

"You have a gift, you know," she said, starting to follow after him, "Complimenting and insulting someone at the same time."

"—Are you going to ask your questions or not?"

Sypha huffed as she fell in step with him, "All right, all right." Keeping up with his long strides was something she found to be quite difficult, but she eventually got the hang of it. "So, I may have accidentally overheard some of the conversation you were having earlier with Thrandy Jr."

Thranduil glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, speaking coolly, "When you say accidentally—you actually mean purposely."

Sypha gasped whilst placing her hand over her heart, "You know me so well already." The corner of his lip curled upwards in the slightest—but as quick as the small, rare smile appeared, it vanished. "I'm touched, blondie. Truly." Thranduil sighed deeply.

"Your time is running out." Honestly, she had almost forgotten what she was going to ask—so luckily his reminder snapped her back on track.

"Right. So, at one point, Thrandy Jr. was going on about how there's no king under the mountain and blah, blah, blah," she exaggerated, "He went on to mention a dragon...?"

Thranduil kept his head high in the air and his arms formally rested behind his back, "The dragon who sleeps under the mountain..." His deep, rich voice sent chills down her spine.

"So, an actual living, fire-breathing dragon?" Sypha questioned.

The elf gave a slight nod, "Yes."

"That's fucking awesome," she exclaimed.

The elf suddenly shot her a dissatisfied look, "Must you use such foul words?"

"Sorry, it's a bit of a habit." Thranduil had never met a woman who cussed as much as Sypha did. The whole 'boss bitch energy,' she had going on was quite foreign to him. "Anyways, the dwarves—that's where they're going?" He suddenly stopped in front of two large wooden doors, turning on his heel to face her.

"Yes. The dwarves are traveling to Erebor," he answered, a fake smile forming upon his glistening features. "I do believe your time is up." With that, he turned to enter the room, shutting the doors rather quickly in her face. Sypha narrowed her eyes slightly and crossed her arms over her chest. He really thinks he can get rid of her that easy, huh?

On the other side of the doors, Thranduil closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Talking to her seemed to wear him out a great deal. She was like a firecracker—bringing a whole crazy ass circus with her every where she went. Suddenly, the curtains to his balcony fluttered harshly due to a quick gush of wind, and Sypha appeared atop his bed, her elbows propped up against the fur blankets.

"This is really comfortable," she told him, as if he didn't already know, "Too bad I don't sleep." Thranduil didn't have to look at her to know she was shooting her famous smirk his way. There was no way he was getting rid of her any time soon, and he knew it. Deciding to ignore her, he went on about his business.

"So, is this where you spend most of your time brooding?" she asked, sitting upright in his fluffy bed. The elf deliberately ignored her. "Not talking anymore, huh?" When he didn't answer, she let out a soft sigh. In a quick flash, she was now standing in front of the fire, her curious eyes trailing across a jewelry box which sat atop the mantle.