C H A P T E R 21 - H E R
~𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕘𝕠 𝕤𝕠 𝕀 𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣~
~𝕀 𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣~
~𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕗𝕥~
Thranduil circled the prisoner trapped in his sons grip slowly. He was enraged, yet if you ever saw his exterior, you would never know. He was good at hiding himself from the world around him. It was what King's did. It was what he had done all of his life.
Clouds of sadness and anger floated in his mind, emotions skin deep. Simply waiting to be unleashed.
"Such is the of evil out there in the vast ignorance of the world it festers and spreads. A shadow that grows in the dark. A sleepless malice as black as the oncoming warm of night. So it ever was. So will it always be. In time, all foul things come forth." Thranduil professed, pacing past his son and the prisoner. Legolas held the back of the prisoners head, a blade to his throat.
"You were tracking a company of 13 Dwarves. Why?" Legolas interrogated, sneering down at the orc in his grasp.
Not just dwarves were with that company... She was with them.
Since she had left him, Thranduil had felt enraged and he didn't know how to handle it. It was one thing to have her ripped from him, yet it was another watching her ride away. Especially after...
The King's brows furrowed at the thought. After what they did, what they felt during that night; and still she left.
Those visions she recalled weren't enough. No matter what she saw or what she felt; none of it mattered.
It enraged him and tore his heart in two.
The orc laughed menacingly. "Not 13. Not anymore. The young one, the black-haired archer, we stuck him with a mortal shaft. The poison's in his blood. He'll be choking on it soon," he promised, tone laced with poison, directed at Tauriel.
"Answer the question, filth." Tauriel bit back, taking her blade into her hand and pointing it straight at the creature.
The orc leaned forward grunting and yelled in dark speech at the elf, sharply being pulled back in line by the prince.
"I would not antagonise her." Legolas advised, glancing down at the creature.
Tauriel snarled, pulling out a blade and stomping towards him with her blade pointing dead at his head, "you like killing things, Orc? You like death? Then let me give it to you."
"Farn!" Thranduil began loudly, "Tauriel glenn!" he continued, shouting at her to leave quickly, "Glenn- hi!"
Tauriel threw a glare over her shoulder as she left, the orc growling back.
"I do not care about one dead Dwarf. Answer the question," Thranduil advised, crossing his arms over one another and speaking lowly, "you have nothing to fear. Tell us what you know and I will set you free."
"You had orders to kill them. Why?" Legolas continued questioning, his head tilting in question, "what is Thorin Oakenshield to you?"
"The dwarf runt will never be king." The orc grunted out with disgust lacing his tone.
"King? There is no King the Mountain, nor will there ever be. None would dare Erebor whilst the dragon lives."
"You know nothing. Your world will burn." It continued to threaten the prince of the woodland realm.
"What are you talking about? Speak!" Legolas shouted, growing more and more frustrated. His blade coming closer to the vile creatures jugular.
"Our time has come again. My master serves the One. Do you understand now, Elfling? Death is upon you. The flames of war are upon you..." he trailed on, making eye contact with both the king and prince with an amused smile, spitting, "and that she-elf my master knows you have grown so fond of..."
Without a second thought, Thranduils blade was unsheathed and flew back straight to the orcs throat. The Kings nostrils were flared, although he tried to contain it, he could not help the way his fists shook. How dare he mention his-
Her.
Legolas felt the weight in his hand drop, looking down incredulously at the decapitated head in his grasp, "why did you do that? You promised to set him free." he remarked, dropping the head carelessly and instead looking to his Adar.
"And I did. I freed his wretched head from his miserable shoulders." Thranduil gritted as calmly as he could, staring down at the shaking body. His boot fell on it, pushing into it to make it still.
"There was more the Orc could tell us."
"There was nothing more he could tell me." Thranduil simply muttered, turning away from his son and beginning to walk away. The King sheathed his blade, ready to bark orders to his guards when Legolas decided to speak.
"You killed him because he mentioned Simbelmynë," Legolas interjected, watching his father stop in his steps, slowly facing his heir.
"Do not say her name," His father warned lowly, eyes turning to steel.
"Adar, I am as saddened as you at her leave, however, we should have known the possibility she would continue with Thorin's company." Legolas professed, feeling an ache in his own chest.
Although he had known this elleth for mere weeks, it had felt like he knew her his whole life. It was strange. Of course, he felt nothing romantically speaking, but there was a bond they shared.
Even with the little interaction they had, Simbelmynë understood him. Something his father had always struggled to do. His father was cold, distant... whereas at every opportunity Mynë had welcomed his presence and answered with care.
"This matter is far more complicated than you may understand, Legolas," Thranduil continued, his jaw clenching slightly.
"I miss her as well," Legolas professed, stepping closer to his father to offer some form of comfort.
"We have larger issues at hand," The King replied, waving his son away emotionlessly.
Legolas dropped his gaze, "what did he mean by, 'the flames of war'?"
"It means they intend to unleash a weapon so great it will destroy all before it," he professed, turning on his heel and walking down the steps out of the hall.
Legolas watched his father leave with haste.
"I want the watch doubled at our borders, all roads, all rivers. Nothing moves, but I hear of it," The king ordered his guards, turning back to face his son once more, "no one enters this kingdom. And no one leaves it."
He frowned. That didn't mean what he thought it meant, did it? "And what of Simbelmynë? You intend to leave her to face their weapons mercy on her own?" Legolas quizzed incredulously, going down the steps slowly after him.
"She has made her choice."
"You don't believe that," the archer claimed, keeping eye contact with his father. It was like he could see the conflict inside of him.
"Watch your tongue, iôn," Thranduil warned, continuing to walk further and further down the hall, "I do not want to hear anymore about that elleth. Forget her, as I wish to."
Thranduil tread down the down the walkway, away from his only son and last reminder of her. Well, almost. Thranduil found himself in his chamber, staring down at the blue and gold gown still left on the ground.
"Could you not find another and spare us both this pain?"
"Never."
Picking it up, his hand balled into a fist around it. How could she have done this? Especially after the night they had shared. Falling back into old times, when they were man and wife, the king and queen. It continued to replay in his mind, searching for a moment where her eyes deceived him.
Had her intention of leaving truly been there the entire time? Had she been playing a role, lying to him the entire time? Was it truly all a lie?
As painful as it was, perhaps letting Simblemynë go was the best choice. She never wanted to be with him or stay in this land and he could not trust her. It was not meant to be.
The King discarded the dress, sending orders for the rest of her materials to be disposed of. It was much easier to destroy all reminders of her. To live as he had done for so long; without her.
Simbelmynë roamed Middle Earth, but Asteraêa was gone.
...She walks in starlight in another world...