Draco and Legolas

The King

Draco began to hold himself back once they got deeper into the forest. He stuck closer to Legolas and Haldir, not really wandering far from them as he had in the beginning. Legolas knew this was because he could feel that they were getting closer to the castle. While this was good, it did cause Draco nervousness. 

"Draco," Legolas called. Draco looked back at him, eyes staring deep into his soul. It was another interesting factor of Draco. His eyes, which were always seemingly changing. Sometimes they were blue, sometimes grey, sometimes an odd mix of the two, and other times they flashed such a deep emerald green as Legolas had seen in the Mines of Moria. One thing remained the same, despite all the changes, however. How deeply unnerving that they were. It was just one more elvish trait which Draco should not have and yet for whatever reason had acquired. 

"Your Highness?" Draco asked, his tone soft, betraying none of the nervousness which Legolas knew the other was feeling just under the surface. 

"We are going to reach the palace soon." He informed. Draco chuckled. 

"I assumed so, my lord." Legolas knew that Draco knew, that was not what he desperately wanted to know. He wanted to know HOW exactly Draco knew that they were coming upon the palace. Was it truly just intuition? Feeling? Judgement? For some reason, Legolas doubted it was merely that. As for another reason, Legolas simply could not find one, and he would not. It was not exactly something which Draco could clearly explain. The magic signature was obvious, though, and Draco had always been sensitive to magical signatures. This was something which Legolas would not exactly understand, and therefore Draco could not be bothered to actively say it aloud. 

Legolas, besides the youth, sighed heavily. He knew his Father. It would be a very fine line Draco would be forced to walk, and he was not entirely certain if he was ready to see how it would play out....It would not matter either ways, as they has reached the destination. Legolas collected himself. He was worried, first and foremost, of what his father would think of his sudden departure from the messenger elves which his father had sent to Imladris. Not to mention the worry which he held for what his father would say or do to Draco. Still, he had no choice but to continue. He supposed that is all the choice he had ever had. He strode up the long walk to the front of the heavy palace gates, and the guards instantly opened for him.

Legolas took his time in directing Haldir and Draco to the throne room. Draco was admiring the structure. After all, the structure in Lothloríen was beautiful, but the structure of Mirkwood was much different. Everything cultivated from the land, trees, and twisted and coaxed into the shape which they desired. It was, if Legolas would admit to any, much more impressive then either Imladris of Lothloríen.  Still, the wave of anxiety which he held back from showing on the surface crashed into him as he entered the throne room.

His father was ethereal, as ever. The crown of the Woodland King alone impressive, not to mention the clothes which he bore. Then again, when was his father not impressive in some form? The elf King always held himself well, and bore himself and his words better than that. Legolas sometimes wondered what his mother saw in him. 

Still, as they approached, Haldir bowed, deep, Legolas inclined his head, and Legolas noted Draco Bowing as well. In fact, he had bowed slightly before even Haldir....interesting...."Father," Legolas acknowledged. 

"Mhm. Relax," and at the power of his command all did relax. Draco and Legolas stood once more. Draco kept any hint of nervousness off of his face. It was the first time Legolas get nothing from him. Not a hint. "Guard," one of the elves which were holding himself outside the platform of the throne moved forwards in a bow. 

"My king,"

"Send young Lord Haldir to a guest room and dismiss the rest."

"As you wish my King." The guard bowed once more and did as he was ordered. Once all were absent but The King, Legolas, and Draco, from the platform, the King looked straight at Legolas.

"You left." Legolas averted his eyes respectfully. 

"I know," 

"Why?" 

"It felt needed, at the time. Had I not gone they would have died long before they even reached the mount." Thranduil hummed. Draco kept his gaze locked on the king. 

"True as that may be, you should have sent an informant. You had a squadron of elves at your command yet did not even bother one of them being sent with the message that you had left." Legolas closed his eyes briefly.

"I was in the wrong there."

"Yes, ensure this does not happen again." 

"It will not." Legolas said softly. 

"Good," thranduil then locked eyes with Draco, who clenched his teeth, but did not avert his eyes, instead staring right back. Thranduil smirked, finding interest in this boy. Standing, the King gracefully descended his throne, and walked towards the youth. Draco stiffened, but continued to look straight, never wavering, even when the King exited his line of vision. Forcing his body to relax, Draco once more hid himself behind the facade. It was not as hard as he thought it would be. His father's teachings were racing through his mind, and the brutality with them plaguing his thoughts, yet not a second of this showed on the surface. Thranduil circled around him, inspecting him, Draco correctly assumed. 

"What is your name?" The King asked, moving to stand before him. Draco was shorter than the King. Legolas was shorter as well though, and Draco was nigh Legolas' height so it was expected. Draco bit his lip harshly, before inhaling, closing his eyes. The flash of emotion which entered his eyes near overwhelming for the two elves to see, yet they did not back off. Both were curious of course.

"Draconis. Abraxas. Lucius. Malfoy." Draco said, words carefully accentuated, and smoothly delivered with a pleasant candace. The way he spoke, it was different from how Legolas had heard before, yet he knew, instinctively, that this was his natural voice. 

"Draconis?" Thranduil said, pausing as the name touched his tongue. "Such an...odd name."

"Many have said that, then again, it could be argued that any name is odd in its own way I suppose." Draco softly rebuffed. It was careful. 

"Does it have any special meaning?" Thranduil asked, eyes narrowing in on Draco.

"Yes. It is a...family tradition. Abraxas is my grandfather's name. It is common among my family to name the future heir of the family after the grandfather. My father went a bit further than that, of course, and named me after himself as well, but Draconis, however, is a constellation." Draco explained kindly. Eyes never leaving the King's own. 

"Interesting. Your family." Draco gave a small huff of laughter, but otherwise remained silent. 

"That is one way to put them." He said simply. 

"Draconis," Draco gnashed his teeth, refusing to rise to the bait though his eyes did flash in indescribable anger. He knew what this king was doing, he refused to toy with him in this respect. "How is it that you came to travel with my son?"

"Happenstance, Your Majesty," Draco swiftly turned the tables, if the slight widening of the eyes was any indication the King had not expected that. "I was injured, deeply, and came across Imladris by chance, from then I ended up being...recruited into the journey."

"Are you healed now?" 

"Yes," draco said easily. There was no need for them to know something they did not need to know. The king narrowed his eyes. Draco knew that the king knew he was lying, but would not call him out on it. 

"I would like to invite you for dinner, with me and my Son, if that is acceptable." Draco inclined his head.

"To refuse would be rude." Was what he said. The King's eyes flashed happily, and Draco knew, this game was far from over.