✓GLITTER AND GOLD⁰ ━ the hobbit

nine.

"Do you look much like your mother?" I ask him cruelly, my temper rising. He ends the conversation, bored, irritated, taunting us. 

"Where did you get this?" He holds Thorin's sword up, and I have to admit it fits in his hands smoothly, as if it were meant to be there. I wouldn't want to fight him, for he seems utterly deadly.

"It was given to me."

The elf points the sword at Thorin with a dramatic flourish, making me think that he quite enjoys this. He takes pleasure in this sort of thing. "Not just a thief, but a liar as well. Take them!" He orders in Elvish.

We walk, the red haired elf and Kili at the front of the line, while the blond watches me, at the back. He keeps looking at me suspiciously, though I'm not sure what he's expecting me to do. I'm weaponless, confused, and surrounded by elvish warriors a thousand times more skilled than I am.

Watching the drama unfold in front of us, though, is amusing enough for me. Kili keeps staring at Tauriel in some strange awe, while Tauriel seems to enjoy it, with a few unnecessary flicks of her knives and hair, and seems to be walking abnormally gracefully, even for an elf. Turning to the blond elf by my side, he watches the exchange like me, but rather than be amused, he looks both disgusted, horrified, and jealous.

I snicker, and he trips me, leg jutting out, glaring. Stumbling down, I barely manage to catch myself before I fall, as he laughs behind me. Ignoring him, I turn away and try not to do anything else stupid. I'm going to stab him, really, I am. Or perhaps I'll strangle him, as he suggested. He clearly wants to be, and at least he wouldn't have to watch Kili and the elleth flirting anymore. That alone makes me wish I could claw my eyes out. 

We are led over a bridge into the Woodland Realm. The walls and buildings are beautifully ornate and the water has changed colour from a murky black to a clear blue. This place truly is the most beautiful, perhaps even rivaling Rivendell.

The elves lead us into the palace, before separating Thorin and I from the group. "The king will want to speak with them," the haughty blond one says.

"Right away, my lord Legolas." The elf in front of me answers.

Legolas. That must be his name.

It's a stupid name. He's stupid. 

We are led up the intricate stairs until the elves gesture for me to stop, and for Thorin to enter alone. He does, looking disgruntled, as I wait.

The elves show no emotion at all as they guard me, their eyes barely flickering with any interest. I simply stand there, waiting.

Finally something exciting happens. I don't know what is being said, but I can hear Thorin screaming something in dwarvish. He's then dragged from the throne room as he looks quite proud of himself, and I flinch. I don't know what he said, but it can't be good — for me.

Then I am led into the hall of the elven king, as he watches me, perhaps hoping that I might be more reasonable than Thorin.

"What business does an elleth such as you have travelling with the company of Thorin Oakenshield?" He asks. His undeniably handsome, but his face is blank, and emotionless. He is terrifying. Perhaps he is Legolas' father — they do seem similar. And act similar. 

I decide it might be in my best interest to try some diplomacy, so I try not to look too frightened. "Gandalf asked if I would join him on an adventure, and so I agreed. I'm legally bound into the service of Thorin now," I say, with a mixture of truths and implied lies.

Thranduil nods, understanding. "Yes, I can see that. Would you like to make a deal?"

I hesitate. "What kind of deal?"