A Better Place - The Hobbit Fanfiction

Alternate Entry Fourteen - Difference in Homes

Legolas stood as well but went off in a different direction. I followed after the king, immensely curious.

“Your house is gorgeous,” I said as I followed him through another couple hallways.

Thranduil’s lips curled up and he pressed the gold-shined handle and swung an ornate door briskly inward. He extended a hand to invite me in, and I crept tentatively inside.

The second I saw it I was simultaneously blown away and suspicious. The room had pale stone walls, high arching ceilings, and was accented in pale, rich purples. The bed was elf-sized so it was far larger than I needed, canopied in gauzy white and sheeted in lavender. The soft, woven rug matched. The wooden dresser, wardrobe and bed frame were some dark wood. What made me laugh was the several sets of miniature stairs—three steps at most—which would help me reach the top of the dresser, the bed, and the hangers in the wardrobe. A yellow vase of flowers I didn’t recognize stood on the dresser before a large, hanging mirror framed in whorled silver.

“Well damn.” I blinked.

Thranduil laced his fingers together and waited for me to elucidate.

“Thranduil, are all your rooms this nice?”

“None of the rooms in my home are of a lesser quality.”

“But what’s the point of giving me such a nice room when I won’t be here for that long?” I tipped my head back to look up at him, concerned.

Thranduil’s expression and eyes were clear, a countenance I didn’t trust. “No one else is using it.”

 “Yes but…. I’m not used to having nice things.”

His lips tipped up again. “We shall be glad to acclimatize you to it.”

“But….”

I edged forward again, lightly turning the toe of my boot into the weave of the rug, then crouching and running my palm over the fabric.

“It is only right that you should have a room here,” Thranduil said carelessly, lightly touching the flowers on the dresser. “I must set a precedent for those I claim as my own.”

“Mmhm.” I slowly rose. “Well. It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”

“Of course. Would you like anything before you sleep?”

I numbly shook my head. “Thank you, no.”

“I shall leave you to it then. Goodnight.” He left, leaving the door adrift, and I stood in the center of the room with my fingers uncertainly laced.

The man who could influence her could have great influence over the others as well.

I sighed. Wasn’t there anybody I could take at face value? All I wanted to do was enjoy the kinds of luxury I’d never before seen, let alone experienced, and here I was doubting its sincerity because I knew that the man who had given it to me didn’t like me for my charm. I was strange—that was what had caught his eye. But my talent for catching the eyes of important people was what had made him want to keep me around. I knew how to grab attention and keep it. I knew how to retain information. And I knew how to convince people I was nothing to worry about.

I was valuable.

I heaved another sigh. I might as well enjoy being manipulated. So I climbed up to the bed, kicked off my boots and threw them on the floor, untied my apron and draped it over the vaulted footboard, and unlaced my bodice so I could draw my dress off, toss it over the apron, and sleep in my under-tunic. I’d seen no reason to wear the bustles while riding.