Mistril herself knew that for an elleth it was strange to find no interest in anything but swords and past traumatic events but she couldn’t control herself. She wanted to know all there was that made the Elvenking act so overprotective.
But now she heard a new name. One that sent shivers up her arms and down her spine. It became a routine for her to think while looking over the forest through her window. It was dark outside but the moon was shining brightly like a source of hope.
"Sauron," she mumbled, feeling fear creep up her spine.
As she repeated that name, she felt a shadow elongate next to hers and she froze. She turned around and followed it up to someone moving in the shadows of her room. It lured her in and without a second thought she went up to him.
It was a creature she had seen before, she had talked to before and she had definitely bowed to at some point. She was scared of him but not to the extent she would have sacrificed for him. It wasn't Sauron.
"You should not disappoint me in this battle or you will return to that cave." Hissed the cloaked man, his voice once human and raspy but now it was just a screech.
She remained staring at him with a sense of gratefulness. What that was for she couldn't say but whoever he was, he offered her an opportunity and she took it.
Two knocks drew her attention and the dark form vanished.
"Yes?" She called out expecting Gweluven since he used to visit her at around the same time.
Surprisingly, Thranduil's face appeared from around the door and he entered the room as if it was his own. He didn't sit but walked to her and looked into her green eyes.
"I'd like you to stop inquiring information of an event that you did not take part in. If you have any curiosities that cannot be refrained, ask me directly. My warriors do not need to remember the past." He said as elegantly as possible.
But Mistril didn't seem impressed. She was, on the other hand, surprised that he gave her an alternative instead of shutting her out completely.
"Tudor told me about your father, former-king Oropher. When he mentioned that name, a face appeared into my mind."
"Of my father?" Thranduil asked not quite believing it.
"I could see this noble man, dressed in his armor and leading his army bravely into a suicidal mission. His hair was the color of bright white clouds, his eyes were firm yet if you were to look closer, there was worry for his people not for himself." She said looking ahead with admiration for the man in her image.
"What makes you believe that man was my father?"
"I know. I only met two men with such noblesse in my life and one of them was Oropher." She explained before she looked at him, "You do not believe a word that comes out from my mouth." She stated not necessarily waiting for him to agree. "Why are you so hostile with me? I've been living here in peace for more than 100 years and yet you still doubt my intentions. I befriended Legolas out of respect and gratitude for saving my life not because I have later intentions! Why can't you look at me and see me for what I am?!" She shouted feeling pressured by all the glances and all the whispers she had seen and heard. It was horrible to feel like an outcast among your people.
Thranduil's eye twitched as he finally lost his calm facade. He grabbed one of her arms and forced it to her eyes.
"Do you see this? This is the black language, used by no one and nothing out of Mordor. You know what it says don't you? It's a mark that binds you to them." He hissed before he pulled her closer. His eyes were full of hatred and whole face was a sneer. "How can I trust an elf that came from that place?"
"You don't know anything about me." She hissed yet she wasn't angry.
If anything, her heart pumped slightly different. She looked at his face and noticed little details that she had never seen before. It was the first time she looked at him as an elf rather than the king. He was very handsome and his skin, just like hers, was only briefly touched by time. It was also the first time she looked into his eyes. Those grey eyes made her feel like a flood of emotions was about to take her along. Those eyes have seen war at a young age and he had to take the crown when he wasn't confident enough to decide the future of his people. She could see that he had fought long to keep himself in check all the time and there were times when he suffered and felt helpless.
Being so angry, he didn't realize how much of his true self he let her see.
"You should leave." She whispered, feeling like her heart might explode soon.
He growled or maybe that was a scoff- sounded the same in her ears- before he left in a hurry.
Thranduil felt a bit perturbed now that he could think more clearly about it. She looked at him differently than before; there was no amusement, no teasing. Instead it was like a huge depth of emptiness which was exactly why he felt a bit off.
When he walked into his room, the first sight his eyes met was a bow.
"Legolas, what is it that you want?" Thranduil asked, pushing the bow aside as his son let him in.
"I heard just now that Faervel wants to send Mistril patrol near Dol Guldur."
"And?" Thranduil asked nonchalantly.
"You cannot allow it! You know well that in the past year men have been talking about orcs going in and out of there."
"What do men know..."Thranduil scoffed.
"If you send her there, worse rumors will spread. Her wrists...they will believe she's also involved with orcs."
"She could be for all we know."
Legolas narrowed his eyes at his father but didn't mutter another word. It was infuriating seeing the king act so stubborn.
"Be wise, Legolas. You found her wounded just outside Greenwood yet she was on the Elf Path. Our forest was not chosen randomly."
"That was more than 100 years ago! She proved to be a good fighter and a good friend."
"Do you know what those marks mean in our language? They translate to Dark Fire. There were rumors when I was just like you about bindings that do not leave you to die. If touched by the dark fire, an elf will not be welcomed to the Halls of Mandos or in Valinor."
"And you believe such ancient stories?" Legolas asked rising an eyebrow suspiciously.
"I didn't until I saw her."
"She is not evil." Legolas repeated the statement that he has been saying ever since he brought Mistril in.
"And she couldn't die either, could she? You didn't save her, Legolas. Her soul was sent back."
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