Broken Souls

A Mentor

It nearly made Kiera jump when Thranduil slammed down a goblet on the table before her, sending her a furious glare in the process before he calmly sat down in his much larger chair. They were sitting at a long table in the throne room, illuminated only by a few candles with Kiera at one end while the King scowled at her from the other. It had been tense throughout the whole realm and only a few elves had yet to find out what had happened. Gossip spread like wildfire in Mirkwood and to Kiera's dismay, it made it much worse for her situation.

This was the opposite of what she wanted. She wanted them to trust her, to let her in and know she was a friend. To keep her there as someone more than a human guest or a prisoner, someone they could find peace in. She had no desire to be elsewhere in Middle Earth. Mirkwood was a beautiful and fascinating realm that spoke volumes, others did not. Being somewhere without those trees and those cavenous halls would be a distant light of true excellence. But currently, the light in those halls had faded by the recent events.

"Do you have something to say for yourself?" Thranduil's voice boomed to interrupt her thoughts, looking coldly back at Kiera who sat lounged back in her seat and picked absentmindedly at a splint of wood in the table. He was enraged that he not only had let such a careless woman have a weapon at hand but let her grow a friendship with Legolas and hurt him, his own son.

"You believe I was the cause of what happened?" Kiera asked bluntly, ripping out the splint and flicking it across the table to watch it land in a vase. She hadn't been the one to trigger her anger.

"You believe you're not?!" Thranduil snapped in return, standing up from his seat to tower over her. "You were the one that shot my son out of anger." He spat coldly, offended that she had the audacity to think otherwise after all she had done the prior day.

"And he was the reason why!" Kiera shot back, jumping out of the chair and slamming her fist down on the table. "Did you not see how he kept pushing at me?! How dare he ask about my father in such a manner!" she hissed, glaring back at Thranduil.

"How dare you not warn us of what was at stake!" The King snarled back, not hesitating to walk back and stand before her in his fury, denigrating her with his looming character. "You think you're better than us.You are nothing but a human, a stranger that I allowed to be in my realm." He hissed down at her, gazing into her eyes to find a trace of fear. "Perhaps I made a mistake."

Kiera tensed her jaw, glaring up at him and felt hurt by his words, almost as great as her rage. "If you think you made a mistake, then why don't you reconsider your choices, Your Majesty?" She whispered coldly. "I warned your son to stop several times because I knew that it never should see the light." She explained, tempted to push him away and give her space but she wasn't that stupid. "It's a shamed part of me that I struggle to control, even though I want to. It's built off trauma, and he provoked that trauma."

Thranduil was almost surprised that Kiera decided to tell him the truth, but made sure not to expose his emotions. "You never told of us of this trauma that could hurt your hosts when you first arrived." He argued in return. "You want me to trust a woman that hides a weapon behind her eyes?" he asked, quieter now as their faces were only inches apart. Kiera's heart beat fast from the adrenalin and the proximity of Thranduil, but still she felt the tingle of something else that she didn't yet understand. A beat not only loud in her chest but in her mind as well.

Kiera nearly scoffed and shook her head slightly to push away the sense of her heart, determined not to back down even as he lashed out at her in all aspects of the word. "I want you to trust those that give you reason enough to." She replied and finally pushed past him, deciding that her time with Thranduil was up.

"You were not dismissed, Kiera." Thranduil called out to her, causing her to stop and glare back at him as their eyes met.

"Do you need me to kneel before you and beg?" she clapped back, wishing to leave before she revealed a her anxiety or did something irrational.