The Shadow (A Thranduil fic)

CHAPTER TWO

THE SHADOW

CHAPTER TWO

The large doors swung open to reveal a grand, circular chamber five times the size of even the largest reception room. It was high and wide and every sound echoed and travelled throughout the space. The dark columns cast heavy, menacing shadows upon the inhabitants and the tall pillars stood proud, illusioning a set of towering archways that led up to the magnificent throne. In front of the chair, shadowed by a pair of prodigious elk antlers, stood the mighty king. He was tall and looming, all of his expression masked by shadow save for the grey eyes twinkling valiantly in the darkness. His face was chiselled and set by thick, luscious eyebrows and upon his head he wore a crown of branches and amber leaves.

To his side stood the two men she assumed had been on the receiving end of his rage. They were near identical and both had heads of sultry, deep brown. One stood with his head hung slightly, the other with his chest puffed out and hands behind his back. Resting languidly in a smaller chair, to the far left of the throne, sat a fairer haired elf that Eleanor didn't notice at first. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement anticipating the events that were about to unfold and as he took a sip of wine from his goblet, he sat up slightly, wanting to get a better view.

Nurien took her by the arm, escorting her past a set of armed guards before kneeling to the ground and, with a stern hand on her back, urging her to do the same.

"Rise, Nurien and Glandur" Thranduil spoke slowly and his low, rich voice infiltrated every space that the grand room had to offer. Glancing towards the two unfamiliar intruders, his top lip tugged upwards slightly in amusement, something only the people closest to him would ever even notice. With piqued interest, he added "explain yourself to me."

"Your highness, while on patrol my company and I intercepted the mortal and the elleth some 200 yards into the eastern border" Neurion stood proudly with his head held up high, though all trace of the aloofness he has shown Eleanor the night before was gone, he was in the presence of a king now. His king.

Thranduil considered Neurion's words for a moment before stepping forward, slow and purposefully with his hands behind his back. For a few moments the only sound was the slick heel click of his boots on the stone floor and Eleanor held her breath in her throat, not wanting to be the one to break the silence.

"And what purpose do you have" he stopped to a halt in front of Eleanor, coming up a full head taller than her and as she looked up into his cool, grey eyes she found herself unable to speak "trespassing in my grounds?" as he spoke, shifting his head slightly, she noticed the light dance against his silvery hair, illuminating every silken strand.

Searching her eyes with his own, openly amused at her flustered reaction, he brought a long ring-clad finger and gently brought her chin upwards so that she was facing him fully. She inhaled his manly scent, her breath catching in her throat. For a second she was so lost in the woodsy aroma of nuts, spices and clean perspiration that she had difficulty trying to formulate a coherent response. Just as she was about to string a sentence of words together she was saved by an interruption from the back of the throne room that caused Thranduil to turn his back to her. As she did so she exhaled a quiet sigh of relief and felt frustration build for allowing herself to act like a fool.

"Actually my King, pardon the interruption but I wouldn't necessarily call the lady a trespasser since she is, in fact, known to us" the fair haired elf that had been hiding in the corner of the room stepped into the light and leaned a languid elbow against the pillar beside him, a smirk plastered on his face "well met Eleanor, it must be centuries now."