Runa knew she was probably enjoying this more than she should. After all, they were on a top secret escape mission and she was now risking their cover for what? Goodbyes with an elf who didn’t care about her except for her usefulness?
Yeah, maybe not her best idea. Still… her mischievous side was reveling in her ‘brilliance’ as she walked into the ballroom. Thanks to Silvia, she’d managed to find some shoes with heels, giving her the extra couple inches she needed to pass as a short elf.
A really short elf.
But that was beside the point. Looking around for His Royal High-In-The-Instep, Runa noticed she was getting some odd looks. In all fairness, they were probably warranted. She was an unknown elf with blazingly red curls that were currently semi-tamed with a gold circlet lent to her by Silvia.
Smoothing her dress and masking her emotions, she walked further in, calmly meandering about the crowd, while keeping a sharp eye out for Thranduil.
As she moved through the crowd of elves, she saw him out of the corner of her eye, lounging lazily on a throne that oversaw the ballroom. Runa smirked to herself, noting the tenseness visible in his shoulders even from this distance and the “bored” look that was actually deep in thought.
Apparently he’d noticed her disappearance. That would make this about one hundred and eleven percent more amusing.
She made sure to begin heading in his direction.
Suddenly, Thranduil sat up straight, rigid, focused and very aware of his surrounding.
Yup, he’d seen her.
Making her way to the refreshment table, she didn’t even glance at him, giving him the first move. As she delicately sipped at a drink, she felt a moment of concern. What if he didn’t approach? What if he simply called his guards and locked her up?
“What are you doing here?” The question came from behind and the familiar tone immediately put to rest her worries.
“Your Highness,” she said in mock surprise. “Fancy seeing you here-”
“Don’t play stupid,” Thranduil commanded as Runa turned to face him, an impish smile playing around her lips.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she murmured mischieviously. Thranduil raised an eyebrow.
“Why are you here?” he repeated.
“Isn’t this Mereth Nuin Giliath?”
“Yes…”
“Oh good,” Runa sighed.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Well obviously I’m here to celebrate.” Thranduil gave her a look that clearly says he isn’t buying it.
“Drink Your Majesticness?” Runa offered him a glass with an angelic smile. Thranduil accepting it skeptically, continued to eye the girl.
“You’re wearing white...” he stated abruptly. Runa looked down at her dress in feigned surprise.
“Really? Well would you look at that, so I am-”
“Runa, be quiet,” interrupted Thranduil, the corner of his mouth twitching. Runa fell silent, but grinned up at him.
“I meant it is interesting that you chose to wear white given that previously you’d asked me what my favorite color was…”
“And?”
“And I told you it was white. So the question stands: why are you wearing white?”
“Perhaps it was the only dress available to one of my stature,” Runa retorted cheerfully. Thranduil was taken aback for a moment, then frowned,
“Speaking of stature… you appear to discovered several inches in the last hour…”
“Oh it’s been longer than an hour,” assured Runa mysteriously, but said nothing about the rather percarious heels on her feet. Thranduil paused for a moment, then suddenly noticed the stares they were attracting.
“Come,” Thranduil offered Runa his arm imperiously, clearly not leaving the command up for debate.
“Where?” Runa asked, eyebrows raised.
“Dancing,” Thranduil nodded his head at the other coupled elves twirling about elegantly on the dance floor. Runa blanched momentarily, but quickly covered it up.
Unfortunately Thranduil had noticed.
“No thank you,” she politely refused.
“Wait a moment… you can dance… can’t you?” asked Thranduil. Runa didn’t answer, her silence condemning her.
“You can’t dance,” Thranduil exclaimed delightedly. With this discovery, he, quickly threaded her arm through his, tightening it in an iron grip and directing them towards the dance floor.
“Thranduil… this isn’t a good idea…” Runa hissed, eyes wide. “I’ve never danced in my life.”
“Now that I can’t believe and- wait… you called me Thranduil…” The elven king looked down at the girl next to him, the playful twinkle in his eyes only growing.
“Slip of the tongue. Won’t happen again Your Highness, now how about we enjoy the fresh air. Sounds lovely doesn’t it?” Runa’s attempt to steer their course elsewhere was completely ineffective.
“I’m afraid I’m enjoying this rather too much dear,” Thranduil replied smoothly. “Call it karma.”
Runa, trying a different tactic, slowed her pace and shortened her normally confident strides. Thranduil, noting this, smiled at her,
“It’s either you keep up or I carry you. Take your pick.”
The tone told Runa he would follow through and her pace matched his once again.
“Your legs are longer than mine,” she muttered defensively. Thranduil chuckled,
“Not anymore.”
“I didn’t find that many inches in time,” she returned caustically.
“So it would seem. Now,” he said as they arrived at the edge of the dancefloor, “follow my lead.” With that, he swept her into his arms and guided her into the the swirling figures.
Runa hadn’t been kidding when she’d said she’d never danced (unless you counted her and Nora's tribal celebrations after usccessful missions -- which Avice had informed her once definitely did NOT count).
Fortunately, years of training had given her some skills, such as reflexes, that helped her keep up with the elven king. Unfortunately, her innate lack of coordination was a thing to be reckoned with.
Several steps in, Thranduil felt a spike jab into his foot and winced slightly.
He looked down mockingly only to find a pair of very irritated eyes glaring into his. He was so caught off guard by the fierceness of the glower that he laughed out loud, causing the spike to find its way to the top of his foot again -- this time, intentionally.
"Is that necessary?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Just call it karma,” Runa hissed vengefully.
“If you could refrain from crippling me that would be appreciated,” Thranduil hinted. The heel of Runa’s shoe dug into his other foot.
“Why would I do that?” she asked sweetly.
“Because I did heal you when you were injured. Severely injured I might add…”
“Technically you didn’t heal me, the Healers did,” Runa shot back, but her feet stayed well enough away from his sore feet after that.
“Thank you,” he replied with a sigh.
“Don’t mention it, now why are we dancing? Other than you enjoy other people’s pain.”
“Just yours darling,” quipped Thranduil mocking. “And we are dancing because we were receiving too much prying attention.”
“And dancing helped how?”
“It’s a subtle way to have a conversation.”
“Oh is that what we’re doing?”
“Runa…” warned the elven king. “Why are you here?”
“I heard the food was out of the world.”
“Runa. The real reason.”
“No really,” Runa protested, her mouth quirking up slightly. “You shouldn’t short change yourself. The food is really quite-”
“Runa.”
“Fine,” she rolled her eyes. “Killjoy.”
“I’m not a killjoy. I’ve killed anyone named Joy in my life.” Runa looked up in disbelief only to see the diversion in his eyes. Involuntarily, she laughed, Thranduil joining in a moment later.
“What is wrong with us?” Runa finally asked. “We shouldn’t be on friendly terms.”
“No,” Thranduil agreed, sobering up.
“How did this happen?”
“Well… perhaps fate outplayed us both…” Runa gave the elven king a wry look.
“Who wrote that? Please tell me you didn’t. That was so cliche it hurt…” Thranduil snorted,
“Fair enough.” Both were quiet for a moment.
“To say goodbye,” Runa said without warning. Thranduil blinked.
“What?”
“That’s why I came.”
“To say goodbye? Are you going somewhere? Runa?” Thranduil looked searchingly at Runa, but she only smiled at him slightly wistfully.
Just then Runa took a wrong step and felt her ankle twist painfully as she fell. Thranduil, caught off guard, managed to catch her roughly, but accidentally bumped Runa’s wounds and she winced sharply. Noticing this, Thranduil frown deepened,
“You’re wounded.”
“Oh really,” said Runa caustically, gritting her teeth in pain and praying her wound hadn’t reopened… again. “I hadn’t noticed.”
With a sigh, Thranduil swooped her up so he was cradling her in his arms. The action surprised Runa into silence for a moment as Thranduil began weaving his way towards a door.
“What are you doing?” she finally choked out. “Put me down! I can walk on my own!” Thranduil chuckled, an unnerving sensation for Runa who was being held against the elven king’s torso.
“I’m sure you can, if you want to further injure your ankle…” he retorted and looked down at her to see, to his delight, that Runa had flushed scarlet in embarrassment. “You’re blushing,” he accused.
“Am not,” refuted Runa stubbornly, despite knowing he was right.
The door turned out to be and exit into the royal gardens and as they passed into the quiet night, Thranduil led them further into the maze of greenery.
“The stars are beautiful…” Runa said looking up they reached a clearing. “Now put me down.”
Thranduil obeyed, setting her gently on the ground where she unabashedly abandoned her destructive shoes and flopped onto her back to look up at the night sky.
After a moment’s hesitation, Thranduil gingerly joined her, grimacing as his robes probably gained grass stains.
Then he looked up. She was right. The stars were glorious tonight -- fitting for Mereth Nuin Giliath.
“Runa?” Thranduil asked, still looking up.
“Hmm?”
“Why did you wear white?” There was silence and, after waiting a minute, Thranduil turned his head to look at her.
Runa was gone.