Lost and Found [Thranduil love story]

Chapter 11: Teleportation And Other Disasters

“You are sitting on Thranduil’s throne.” Remarked Gandalf after a moment of silence.

Oh, so I was in the king’s tent. What a coincidence.

“It’s just a chair.” I said, too tired and dizzy to stand. I didn’t care. The king could bite me right now. Since he or our link were probably responsible for my headache, I had every right to occupy his chair.

Thranduil entered moments after, looking perfect and stunning as usual. I really wished I could have such an ability too.

“Gandalf, I was told…” He stopped dead, looking at me. Oh, so he didn’t know I was here. He couldn’t sense me without concentrating then. Good, that made things fair, since I couldn’t feel his presence without trying hard either. Then a slight, triumphant smile appeared on his lips, and I felt angry. So he thought he’s won? Well, we’ll see about that. However it looked like he wasn’t the one to bring me here, otherwise he wouldn’t be so surprised.
”You are sitting on my throne.” He said instead of a standard greeting, not getting angry, however, as I expected him to.

“It’s just a chair.” I said. Honestly, was he going to argue about that? Lame. Especially after I’ve already sat on his real throne anyway, with him watching.

“Every chair I sit on becomes a throne.” He remarked, pouring himself some wine. He looked a lot more relaxed than just moments ago, when he entered, and that made me even angrier.

“Then sit yourself another throne.” I replied, not even considering getting up.

He eyed me with one of his brows high, and I could sense his amusement. Then he called one of the guards and said something in elvish.

Gandalf observed us perplexed, and Bard was looking at me with interest. I thought he was probably wondering how come human woman could speak to the king in such manner and live. There were moments, when I wondered that too.

The king looked at Gandalf with anticipation. The wizard turned his attention back to the monarch. He started talking about war, Dol Guldur, dwarves, orcs, but Thranduil didn’t seem to care.

“Sometimes storm is just a storm.” He said.

I wanted to join the discussion, but felt nauseous and resigned. The king turned his attention to me for a moment and poured me some wine, but I refused. My stomach was empty, and I didn’t want to get drunk. Besides I was too afraid I would throw up. I had little dignity left after showing up here, but I intended to keep it.

“Not this time.” Said Gandalf and then he went on about some army that was closing in. I thought about what I saw in my vision and rose my head, determined to speak.

“The Pale Orc.” I said with an effort.

Gandalf nodded in agreement, and continued his story.

“The dwarves were never meant to reach the mountain.” He said, leaving.
”They were.” I said, suddenly feeling I should. The wizard stopped.  I saw something moving before my eyes, a pieces of the puzzle coming together. “This is exactly what should happen.” I continued fighting my stomach. “All pawns are in places, the game begins.” I murmured, feeling drunk, although I had nothing to drink. “He looks but does not see. A great eye blinded. Fate laughs at the great and favours the little.”

“What do you see?” Asked Gandalf, suddenly interested. He kneeled before me.

“Go and play.” I said. Words were forcing their way out of my mouth on their own. “I have no more to tell you.”

“Extraordinary.” Whispered the wizard.

“What is this?” demanded Thranduil, looking worried.