Burn Again

Chapter Eight

Thranduil was livid.

Guards and servants hurriedly leapt out of his path as he stormed through the palace, narrowly avoiding the six feet five tower of rage as he strode past, tearing off his armour and throwing it piece by piece to the floor. Melderion hurried behind him, quickly gathering the discarded battle-wear.

"Where is she?" the King roared. "Where is that blasted elleth?!"

Silence was his answer as those within earshot ducked for cover.

He marched onwards, throwing doors open in his search for her. He took the stone steps two at a time as he bounded down them, Melderion hurrying to keep up with him. Rounding the corner, he spotted her sitting on a wooden bench behind a massive carved pillar with her head in her hands, and came to a stop.

"Leave," he hissed over his shoulder.

The faithful aide disappeared instantly.

Long strides carried him to her, where he gripped her arm and yanked her up from the seat. She cried out in pain as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her upper arm.

"When did you become a member of my armies?" he demanded as he towered over her. "Who gave you the authority to take one of my horses and ride into battle?"

"N..no-one, my Lord," she stammered.

"Then why did I find you about to be slaughtered in the middle of a fight where you had no business being?!" he screamed. His body shook with anger. "How dare you assume that you are experienced enough to fight with my guards! Your place was not out in those woods!"

"I...I...I am sorry, my Lord," she gasped, terrified. "I only wanted to help-"

"If you want to help, then I suggest you stay out of my sight!" he barked, leaning down so only a few inches separated them.

She reeled back as far as his iron hold would allow, afraid of the fury that flashed in those ice blue eyes.

"My Lord, the patrol from the southern borders have returned," a voice said.

Thranduil glared at her for several seconds, before slowly turning his head to give the speaker a profile view.

"The replacement patrol have arrived at the borders safely," the servant went on after a moment's hesitation. "The captain wishes to give you his report when you are available."

He breathed deeply, turning back to Elu. "Inform him that I shall be with him just shortly," he said, not taking his eyes from her. "I shall deal with you later," he added to her, in a hiss that almost burned her ears.

His jaw clenched hard as he threw her arm aside, glaring at her as he spun on his heel and marched away. The flustered servant who had delivered his information lowered his head and trailed meekly behind the swirl of robes that stormed deeper into the palace.

Elu gasped a breath in, shaken to the core. She genuinely hadn't meant to anger him. She knew she was formidable with a bow, and knew that her experience and accuracy could be of use to the elves fighting for their lives and their kingdom.

But Thranduil saw it differently.

He obviously looked at it as a feeble female jumping into a situation where she was definitely not welcome, and somehow that had undermined him. His authority was still intact, his soldiers still looked upon him as their rightful King and leader – what damage had she done by showing up in the forest?

Unable to decipher his thoughts, she leaned back against the pillar, a heavy sadness washing over her.

"Elu."