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Chapter Text

Chapter 1

The Stranger who fell from the Sky

…

The skies were grey, an omen of what was to come. The air started to roar, shaking the treetops of the Mirkwood forest and agitating the waters of the Forest River and the ones in the lake in the Elven King’s private gardens. It was there where the strong winds met and from the dark clouds above, a ball of light appeared.

The palace guards surrounded the phenomenon, struck with awe and fear. The air itself was heavy as lightning started appearing and then it was like a Valar had opened a window in the sky. And the guards could see through it, a giant house in the sky, and trees and then a figure falling from said opening.

There was a terrible noise, like that of a giant hammer hitting an anvil and with a flash of blinding light, the window in the sky closed, the winds returned to their previous calm nature, the clouds dissipated and even the sun returned, shining upon the figure lying on the grass near the lake.

As the guards approached, they discovered a young woman. She was not an elf, nor a dwarf. She looked human but what they had just witnessed raised several questions about her nature.

One guard knelt next to her and carefully looked for a pulse on her neck. He found one but faint. He looked up.

“She’s alive, but barely. Take her to a healer and inform the King. He probably already felt the presence of magic, but he shall want to know about her.”

Everything hurt. Every single limb of her body. She felt like a train had run over her. Was she dead? Did death feel like this? All darkness and pain… Well, the darkness seemed to lighten.

Elizabeth blinked slowly as she started to wake up. Her body still ached and felt impossibly heavy, but she noticed that whatever bed she was lying in, she had never felt something softer.

As her eyes got used to the light, she started to notice the room she was in, completely shocked and confused.

The room was as large as the hall of a palace, with high ceilings and stone walls. At the top, there were five round skylights with beautiful stained-glass windows. And the pillars around the room looked like twisted tree trunks, but she noticed they were made of stone. Large windows with delicate golden frames let the sunshine through, lighting up what otherwise would have been a very dark room.

Elizabeth tried to sit up, but a hand on her shoulder softly pushed her back.

“It is better if you rest a while longer,” a deep voice told her and when she looked up, she was taken aback by a very handsome man standing next to her bed, looking down at her with kind eyes.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but obey, laying back down and stared at the man now examining her face. She wasn’t sure she had seen a man as handsome as he in person before. She then noticed his strange long mahogany hair, only pulled back in a half ponytail by intricate braids. What was more, he was dressed in a green medieval robe, a golden sash around his waist.

Elizabeth frowned as he started to whisper and gesture around her head.

“Who are you?” she asked out loud confused and a bit scared. “What am I doing here?”

“Odd. I was about to ask you those same questions,” a deep severe voice replied. The man examining her stopped, turned to look behind her and bowed.

“Aran Meletyalda,” the brunette man next to her said.

Unable to turn around, Elizabeth heard the steps going around her bed and then another man faced her.

If the first one had made her stop, this one left her speechless and stricken. Taller than the other man for at least a head, with long hair of a silver blonde and deep blue icy eyes that froze her on place. Elizabeth blushed, thinking she had never seen a more beautiful man in her life, in person or otherwise. This man had long robes as well, but his were silver and sparkling under the sun spilling from the windows and a tall crown of what looked like thorns adorned his head.

His icy eyes roamed Elizabeth’s face, making her blush deeper, his lips pursed. His face looked severe, and Elizabeth knew she shouldn’t cross this man.

“So… who are you? And how did you enter my gardens?” The blond man asked.

“E-Elizabeth,” the girl replied quickly before she could compose herself, but the man in front of her filled her with so many contradictory emotions at once. She then cleared her throat and raised her chin, trying to match his expression.

“My name is Elizabeth Hastings. May I know yours?”

The brown-haired man gave Elizabeth an alarmed look as if she had just slapped him. The other just raised an eyebrow and for a fleeing moment, Elizabeth swore she saw a small smile.

“I am Thranduil, son of Oropher. The Elven King of Mirkwood.” His deep arrogant voice rang across the large hall.

Elizabeth frowned lightly.

“Did… did you just say Elven?” she asked confused. “Elven as in elves.”

Thranduil gave her an annoyed look and then turned to the brown-haired man.

“Balin, you assured me the girl wasn’t concussed.”

Elizabeth glared at Thranduil, but the other man gave him an alarmed look.  

“She isn’t, my lord. I assure you.”

But Elizabeth then saw among his shiny luscious hair a pointed ear. Shit, the girl thought scared. I was kidnapped by lunatics.

“Look,” Elizabeth intervened sitting up. This time Balin didn’t stop her. “I don’t know what’s going on, but please do not harm me. My father will give you anything you ask. Anything, just please, let me go.”

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me how you ended up in my garden,” Thranduil told her, his angry eyes glaring at Elizabeth.

“What garden?!” Elizabeth exclaimed, exasperated; her voice shrilled. “I was… I was in…” she looked up at Thranduil pale and scared. “I can’t remember what I was doing before waking up!”

The King gave her a derisive look.

“Very convenient. So, who sent you? Did you come here to steal or for some other purpose?” He asked her coldly.

“Steal?!” Elizabeth replied indignantly. “You kidnapped me! You lunatics who think you are elves!”

“We are elves, my lady,” Balin intervened gently. “Sindar elves.”

Elizabeth huffed.

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean!”

“You have never heard of elves?” Balin asked her, perplexed.

Elizabeth shrugged.

“I mean, tales, children’s stories. But they’re not real.”

“Where are you from?” Balin said.

“London.”

But neither Balin nor Thranduil seemed to know what that was. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.

“England?”

“Is that in Middle-Earth?” Balin said.

“What is Middle-Earth?”

Thranduil let out an annoyed sigh and stepped up closer to her, looking her straight in her eyes, taking her aback.

“Are you human?”

“Y-yes.”

“And you had no idea of who I am or of this place, not even of the elves’ existence?”

“No.”

“What about dwarves or the wizards?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

“Dwarves and wizards? Are there dragons too? What about fairies?”

“This is not a jesting matter!” Thranduil snapped at her but Elizabeth, even though she knew she should be scared, had had enough.

“It certainly is not!” Elizabeth replied, raising her voice. “I am captive of two deranged men who think that magic and dwarves exist!”

Thranduil’s icy eyes glared at her, but Elizabeth didn’t back down. Balin, uncomfortable at the exchange, addressed his king: “My lord, she’s being sincere.”

“Indeed,” Thranduil replied. “And that large surge of magic that appeared moments before she did, I do not sense it in her.” Then he turned to Elizabeth. “Whatever brought you here, apparently did it without your knowledge.”

“What are you talking about?” Elizabeth frowned.

“My only guess is that you’re not from this world,” the Elven King shrugged. “Whether this is the work of the Valar or someone else, that is the question.”

Elizabeth sighed, exasperated.

“What is the Valar?” She asked.

“I’ve heard enough,” was Thranduil’s response, turning around and starting to leave. “If she’s recovered, send her to the cells until I’ve summoned Lady Galadriel.”

“My lord?” Balin turned to him shocked.

“The cells?” Elizabeth repeated, alarmed.

“Until I’m sure you do not pose a danger to our people, you shall remain locked,” Thranduil told Elizabeth coldly, then turned to Balin. “Give her one of the largest ones so she is comfortable.”

 And with that, the Elven King walked out of the Healing Wing.

An hour later, Elizabeth was carried downstairs to the cells. She didn’t put up a fight. She barely had any strength, and she saw several guards carrying swords and lances.

She felt like this was a dream. It had to be, because what was her alternative? One, a bunch of really good-looking people who believed themselves elves had someone managed to build all of this and get props and fake weapons and held her captive or… the crazier one but more plausible the more she saw, she was indeed in that land called Middle-Earth, surrounded by Elves suspected of something dangerous. Well, either alternative was not good for her.

Well, it could have been worse, Elizabeth thought as she saw the rather large cell, they had provided her with. It had a bed that didn’t look uncomfortable, and she had curtains for privacy. She even had a mirror, a washing bowl, a plate of fresh fruit and a pitcher of water.

The guard carrying her, entered the cell and gently placed her down on the foot of the bed, then knelt next to her. Elizabeth was no longer surprised by the stunning man that faced her. Every person she had seen since Balin and Thranduil had been beautiful, from the dungeon guards to the handmaids.

“I’m sorry for all of this, my lady,” the elf (Was she really starting to believe they were elves?), said.

This man was not as stunning as Thranduil, but his green eyes reminded Elizabeth of emeralds.

“It’s not your fault,” Elizabeth replied. “You didn’t order it.”

“Are you alright now?” The man asked.

Elizabeth nodded.

“I’m glad you’re okay. When we found you, your pulse was weak. I was afraid for you.”

Elizabeth opened her eyes surprised.

“You found me… What is your name?”

“Arnen, my lady, son of Goenor,” the elf said, giving a nod.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile.

“My name is Elizabeth.”

“Happy to make your acquaintance, my lady. I’m afraid I must leave you now.”

 “Of course. Enough fraternizing with the prisoner.”

Arnen gave her a small smile, and with a bow he stood up and left. Just then two handmaids entered, one carrying a tray with a gold pitcher and a plate of food and the other carrying what seemed like a long dress, made of fine silk, similar to the one they were wearing.

“My lady, the king has asked to provide you with this,” the one carrying the dress said, and handed the dress to Elizabeth. She also handed her a pair of slippers. Elizabeth placed the dress aside and waited for the other handmaid to place the tray on the bedside table.

“Please thank the King for me,” Elizabeth replied sarcastically. “I’ve never been to a finer dungeon.”

The two elves, not knowing what to answer, quickly left without saying anything. Then, a guard outside the cell, closed and locked the door giving Elizabeth an apologetic look.

Elizabeth sighed and slowly fell back onto the bed, staring at the dark stone ceiling of her cell.

Perhaps she should have been nicer to the king. Perhaps if she had acted sweet and wounded, he wouldn’t have sent her to the dungeon. But meeting Thranduil was a roller coaster of emotions. She had never felt more indignation, annoyance… and attraction. Heavens, why did he have to look like that?

She was already dreading it, but during their next encounter she would have to bite her tongue.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

The Finest Dungeons

…

Thranduil paced his rooms, contemplating the day’s occurrences. That sudden surge of power, the opening in the sky that his men saw, that girl from a different world with no memories… It was not a chance occurrence. No. This was someone’s plan, to bring this girl to Middle Earth, even to his hall itself, but why…?

He had already sent word to Lady Galadriel, and she would be on her way as soon as possible. But it was a fortnight’s journey. And in the meantime, what was he to do with the girl?  He could not possibly leave her all that time in the dungeons, could he? Well… she could certainly use her time in there to learn manners. To speak so insolently to him, of all beings. It annoyed him, it angered him… but also amused him. Such a small creature, in such a fragile state, bad-mouthing him, calling him deranged… She had almost made him smile. That girl had either no sense, or her blood ran too hot for her own good.

Elizabeth, he mused. Such a strange name.

His musing was interrupted by a knock on his door.

“Come in,” his deep voice rang out in the large, cavernous room. A handmaid entered, making a deep bow.

“My king.”

“Have the clothes and the food been delivered to the girl?”

“We did, my lord. She’s…grateful.”

The hesitance in the handmaid’s voice made him turn to see her, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Grateful? What did she say exactly?”

The handmaid wrung her hands uncomfortably.

“My lord…”

But the cold look her king gave him made her talk.

“S-she asked me to thank you, my lord… for she has not been to a finer dungeon.”

Thranduil huffed, shaking his head.

“Insolent girl. I should have put her in the small cells,” he replied, annoyed, yet his lips slightly curled in an amused smile. The gall of that human…

Elizabeth was lying on her incredibly comfortable dungeon bed, staring at the stone ceiling.

After been locked up, she had changed into the new clothes, since the dress she had being wearing was ripped and stained with dirt and grass. As she took it off, Elizabeth realized it was beautiful, but she had never seen it before. It was pink and light, made of chiffon, and too dressy to be a day dress. So, it meant she had bought it specifically for an occasion she couldn’t remember either, which worried her. The last day she remembered was cold. Then, how much had she forgotten? Days, weeks, months…?

She sat up in bed and hugged her knees. At least she remembered her parents, her sisters, her graduation from university, her work… She remembered once having heard that when someone suffered a great trauma, they could develop amnesia as a way to protect their mind… Has something like that happened to her? Did she not remember because something terrible had happened…?

“Are you feeling ill?” A deep voice startled her, almost making her jump. She looked up and found Thranduil staring at her, his face blank of emotion, his eyes as cold as ever.

“I-no. You just startled me.”

“I apologize. It wasn’t my intention.”

Elizabeth shook her head.

“I was just lost in thought. I was trying to remember.”

“Were you successful?” Thranduil stepped closer to the door, but Elizabeth shook her head once more.

“No. I can tell there’s a chunk of time missing, but I can’t recall what or why I forgot.”

“Whoever sent you here, might have stolen your memories too,” said Thranduil.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, taken aback.

“Can someone do that?”

“I have seen it before, yes.”

“How do I get them back?”

“Spells can be… complicated. In order to break them, you have to know first what it involves. Did they block your memories, stole them, or erase them…?”

Elizabeth let out a deep sigh and rested her chin on top of her crossed arms which hugged her knees.

“Why are things in here so complicated?”

There was a small pause and then Thranduil spoke: “I heard you find your accommodations comfortable.”

Elizabeth blushed lightly, but still met the King’s eyes, unapologetically.

“Well, this is a new experience for sure.”

“I want you to know that despite your insolence…” Thranduil started, placing his arms behind his back. Elizabeth gave him an indignant look which he ignored. “This is not the way I treat my guests.”

“Your guest? I thought I was your prisoner,” Elizabeth said sarcastically.

“You’re not,” Thranduil responded but gave her an annoyed look. “I do believe you are innocent in all of this.”

Elizabeth straightened up, looking at Thranduil confused.

“Then why am I in a dungeon?”

“It is a precaution to keep my people safe,” Thranduil said. “When you fell to my gardens, there was a surge of powerful magic and then it just disappeared. Strong magic such as that, does not just appear and disappear out of nothingness. It needs a source. I believe you are that source.”

Elizabeth got even more confused.

“But I do not have magic. Magic do not exist in my world.”

“Be that as it that may, that magic appeared and you with it. I do not believe this to be a coincidence… You say you don’t remember anything.”

“I don’t,” Elizabeth replied firmly.

“Whoever sent you here, didn’t want you to remember. Why?”

Elizabeth shook her head but then something occurred to her: “So, you wouldn’t find out their plan. If I don’t know why am I here, then neither do you.”

Thranduil nodded.

“But… how is it possible for me to have magic?” Elizabeth continued, even more confused. “I’ve never done anything out of the ordinary, never felt powerful… and even now I don’t feel any different.”

“I don’t sense it now, which makes me believe it’s dormant inside you,” Thranduil said. “Whether that magic was always yours or someone else gave it to you, that I cannot tell.”

Elizabeth opened her eyes wide.

“Can someone give me… magic powers?”

“No. In this world humans have learned magic before, though it’s not common anymore. But if you did not learn it, then someone put a spell on you… or a curse.” Elizabeth looked at him alarmed but he just continued. “And what concerns me is that you may unleash this power, and you may harm my people in the process.”

Elizabeth understood then.

“Hence… the cell.”

Thranduil nodded his head and this time, Elizabeth saw a hint of regret in those arrogant eyes.

“Just so.”

Elizabeth did not speak for a moment, her mind busy absorbing the information and Thranduil did not speak, probably sensing her panic.

After a few moments, Elizabeth looked at Thranduil again.

“But then… am I to be confined to this cell forever?”

“I’ve sent word to Lady Galadriel,” Thranduil informed him but seeing her confusion her continued. “She has abilities that will helps us find out who sent you here, if you pose a threat or if you are in danger and how to send you back to your world… even to regain your memories.”

Elizabeth’s face lit up with hope.

“Really? She can do all of that?”

“I think she can, or she’ll find a way,” said Thranduil.

Elizabeth nodded eagerly.

“Alright. Thank you for your help, truly.”

Elizabeth’s eyes shone and he knew she was being sincere. Thranduil nodded his head, acknowledging her gratitude.

“When is Lady Galadriel arriving?”

“She is rather faraway, but she’ll come at once when she receives my message.”

Elizabeth’s face fell.

“She hasn’t received your message yet?”

“I sent my fastest messenger, but it’ll be a fortnight before she’s here.”

Elizabeth’s stomach dropped.

“Am I to remain here all that time?”

Thranduil looked away but Elizabeth thought she saw him looking uncomfortable for a moment.

“These cells have magical properties that block outside influence. That way whatever is inside you, won’t get released.” Thranduil turned around to see her and walked until his body reached the door bars, his hand closing around one of the bars, his eyes locked in her. “It is not to keep you locked, Elizabeth, but to keep you and the others safe,” he explained.

Elizabeth’s despair didn’t change with his words even though she nodded. Then she cast her eyes down.

“I am really sorry,” Thranduil added.

When he received no answer, he let go of the bar and turned around to leave the girl alone.

“My lord…”

Her sudden timid tone and her choice of words stopped him in his tracks, and he turned to see her, taken aback.

Elizabeth stood up and walked to the door, getting as close as she could to him.

“If I am to remain here all that time… may I ask for a favor?”

“What is it?”

“I was wondering if I could borrow some… books.”

“Books?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“I really enjoy reading… and time would pass faster that way.”

Thranduil looked at the girl behind the cell door. She looked so small, and despite her best efforts to hide it, he saw fear on her face. He could understand. She had no memories, and she was dropped in a strange land where she was then promptly locked in a dungeon. It was not often that he felt guilt, but Thranduil did not care for it.

He turned around and approached the girl until the door was the only thing separating them, his face softening.  

“What books do you enjoy reading?”

Elizabeth smiled softly.

“All kinds really… history, geography, astrology, philosophy… Though I don’t know what sort of books you have.”

“We have all those books here,” said Thranduil, his voice not as cold as before. “I’ll make sure you receive those in the Common Speech… Are you cold? Drafts are common around here.”

Elizabeth shook her head.

“It is cold here, but the blankets are warm, and I did receive a cloak. I’ll be fine.”

Thranduil looked at her sweet smile and then looked behind her at the furniture crammed into the cell.

The guilt feeling strengthened his hold on the king.

“If you feel ill, or if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Thranduil told her.

Elizabeth looked taken aback for a moment before nodding.

“I’ll leave you then… unless you need something else.”

“Perhaps… perhaps you can come back tomorrow,” Elizabeth said softly. “If you have time… It’s nice… talking to you.”

Now the king was the one looking taken aback. But after a few seconds he cleared his throat, and his blank mask fell into place again.

“I’ll make sure to come back by the afternoon.”

And with that Thranduil gave her a last look before swiftly leaving.

Elizabeth watched him go, until the echo of his steps couldn’t be heard anymore. She felt really guilty. She understood the concern for the wellbeing of his people and why he was being so cautious, and it touched her how kind he was… but a fortnight locked in here… no. She would find this Galadriel on her own. She would meet her halfway, to speed things up and return home.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Flowers in the Shadows

Elizabeth needed a plan to escape Thranduil’s palace, but thinking about leaving was easier than finding an actual way out.

If the wait had been shorter, she would have stayed put. She was truly grateful for Thranduil’s thoughtfulness. He had sent a rich hot meal, plenty of fresh water and wine, extra blankets, different dresses for her to change into and the books he promised, and all of that in less than an hour after he left. But Elizabeth knew that in a world where urgent communication was still done by a man on a horse, that fortnight could easily turn into a month or longer. And she couldn’t wait that long, she needed to go back to her life. So, she started a list of things she needed.

One, she needed a map of this world and needed to know where she was, where this Galadriel lady’s place was and how to get there the fastest and safest way. Two, she needed a layout of this place and also a map of this palace if possible. If her escape route was no longer viable, she needed a backup. How to get all of this without Thranduil suspecting her…? She wasn’t sure yet. It would be tricky.

And finally, three, she needed a way to leave this cell… but how? The door was solid metal, and even if she had the strength to open it, she suspected it wasn’t only the metal keeping the door closed, but also magic, so she needed to get the keys.

As the handmaids brought her a meal, the blankets, the clothes and the books, she noticed that the guard with the keys who opened the door for them, was the same who opened the door when she was put there. So, she needed to learn his schedule, and possibly get friendly with him, so he would trust her and lower his guard…

Elizabeth sighed as she perused the books Thranduil had sent her. She hated betraying his trust and manipulating him, especially when it was clear he was hostile and suspicious of everyone, but she had no choice.

She grabbed the second book and realized it was one about geography. Elizabeth smiled softly as she turned the pages, seeing all of the maps of Middle Earth, and it even had descriptions of some of the kingdoms… What place had Thranduil said he was king of...? She couldn’t remember, so she would have to be even more stealthy in extracting all the knowledge she needed.

“Do you enjoy the songs of our past?”

Elizabeth recognized the deep voice, but it still startled her. She looked up from the book she had been immersed in just a moment ago with a gasp.

Thranduil stepped from the shadows close to her door until he was just on the other side.

As soon as the afternoon meal was done, and his affairs were in order, the King went down to the dungeons, as promised.

“I apologize if I startled you,” the Elven King said.

“Only because I was too immersed,” Elizabeth replied shrugging, marking the page she was reading with a ribbon and closing the book. “I was already a fan of history in my world, but your history… is something else.”

“The War of Wrath,” Thranduil read the title on the large book resting on the girl’s lap, “it shall take you a while to finish that one.”

“I don’t mind, it is really interesting,” Elizabeth replied with a smile, “though I don’t quite understand some things. What are the Valar? They’re mentioned quite a lot, but it does not say…”

“The Valar are the Powers of the World,” said Thranduil.

“The Powers? Are they gods?”

“No. They are very powerful spirits, created by Eru Ilúvatar, the creator of all. They lived in a land only reached by a few, but despite their power, they rarely intervene in the world,” said the king, pressing his lips into a thin line. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows lightly.

 “You don’t seem very fond of them.”

Thranduil shrugged, dismissively.

“I have accepted the role they want to play in the world. It is what it is. I even considered they may have played a part in bringing you here.”

Elizabeth sat up straighter.

“Do you think they did?”

“They certainly have the power to do so,” Thranduil said fixing his cold eyes on Elizabeth. “If they didn’t, they may know who did.”

Elizabeth opened her eyes to this information and moved the book out of her lap. She stood from the bed and approached the cell door.

“And couldn’t we ask them?” She asked eagerly, but Thranduil slowly shook his head.

“The Valar live in the Undying Lands. Those who reach them can only leave them with their express permission, rarely granted, and a mortal, such as you, wouldn’t survive long there.”

Elizabeth frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“You will decay faster, your life span cut in half… perhaps more,” Thranduil replied.

Elizabeth’s stomach dropped to her knees, her small hope dashed as quickly as it had grown.

“Oh, so, not an option,” the girl said disappointed, looking down at her hands, but then looked up at Thranduil with a confused expression on her face: “Wait, aren’t you mortal?”

“I am not,” Thranduil replied matter-of-factly. “I can be killed but I do not age and die like humans. No elf can.”

“If you don’t age… How old are you?” Elizabeth asked baffled.

Thranduil huffed.

“Age stopped being important to me centuries ago.”

Elizabeth’s eyes opened as wide as plates and Thranduil had to repress a smile. Her awe was somewhat endearing.

“Centuries? You have been alive for centuries?!”

The King just nodded his head. Elizabeth crossed her arms, looking at him in complete awe.

“I think I understand now why you’re so ill-tempered all the time.”

Thranduil gave her an indignant look.

“I mean, I would be too if I had been alive for that long,” the girl continued, thoughtlessly.

“I am not ill-tempered,” Thranduil replied, his cold voice distilling poison.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.

“Even right now you’re looking at me like you’re going to bite my head off,” the girl replied, cheekily.

“Perhaps I only look as such at those who do not respect me.” Thranduil glared at the girl even more.

“I do respect you,” Elizabeth replied quickly.

Thranduil gave her a pointed look.

“You could have fooled me.”

“Do you want me to lie?” Elizabeth asked, tilting her head. “Tell you, you are such a smiling and easy-going king?”

Thranduil gave her an annoyed look and then turned around.

Elizabeth opened her eyes in surprise and her heart raced. She mentally kicked herself. She should be gaining his trust, not annoying him. Her hand quickly snaked through the bars and grabbed the large bell sleeve from his robe.

“Wait, please! I’m sorry. You’re right, I was disrespectful,” the girl said worriedly. “But I was just teasing. I did not mean to insult you, really!”

Thranduil looked at her small hand clutching his sleeve through the doors and then at her panicked face between the bars. If her intentions had been anything but innocent, the bars would have prevented her from even sticking her arm out.

“I was just going to fetch that chair,” Thranduil replied with a raised eyebrow, and pointed at a wooden chair on the other side of the corridor.

Elizabeth let go of his sleeve.

“You weren’t going to leave?”

“I should after those comments,” said Thranduil and gave her a small smirk before turning around.   

Elizabeth blinked unsure of what she just saw. It wasn’t a smile per say but compared to his usual blank face… it left her breathless for a few moments.

She didn’t even move and just stared at the king while he picked up the heavy wooden chair like it weighed nothing and placed in front of the cell doors, in front of Elizabeth’s temporary bed.

Thranduil sat smoothly on the chair, and Elizabeth followed suit, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“You know, there are not many people left in this world who would address me with such cheek as you do,” Thranduil told her, leaning back on the chair and raising an eyebrow. “Certainly, no humans, locked in my dungeons.”

Thranduil’s blank mask was on, and she couldn’t tell if he was upset or not.

“Well, you did mention I was a guest, not a prisoner,” said Elizabeth tentatively, with a small smile.

“And such a rude guest,” said Thranduil and the corners of his mouth curled up in the smallest of smiles. Elizabeth smiled back, feeling relieved.

“And yes, living for seven thousand years would make many… ill-tempered,” he continued tilting his head.

Elizabeth almost fell from the bed in surprise.

“Seven-seven thousand…?! You’re joking!”

Thranduil gave her a look.

“But then…” Elizabeth turned and grabbed the War of Wrath book and quickly opened it to an illustration of the war. She turned it around, showing Thranduil.

“You were alive when all this happened?”

Thranduil looked at the illustration, and his small smile faded. Even that many years ago he could still hear the clangour of steel meeting steel, and smell the dragon fire melting flesh…

“I was born at the end of the First Age,” Thranduil replied looking away. “I was but a green boy when the War of Wrath started.”

Elizabeth placed the book on the bed in front of her and shook her head.

“I cannot fathom living such long time.”

“Human’s lives for elves are but a second in time.”

“So, in a couple hundred of years, you won’t even remember me, not even my name,” Elizabeth said, but Thranduil noticed a twinge of bitterness on her voice.

“On the contrary. I’ll always remember the insolent girl who fell from the sky.”

Elizabeth chuckled and gave him a bright smile, a smile that stayed on the Elven King ‘s mind for longer that he cared to admit.

The following five days passed by, exactly alike. In the morning, she would be woken up softly by two handmaids, Milneth and Grawel, carrying a tray with her breakfast and golden pitchers of water and wine. They also brought her a new book daily that Thranduil had picked for her. Books about philosophy, history, astronomy… She still had yet to receive one with a map of Middle-Earth and one with a map of this palace, if such a thing even existed. She had even requested parchment, ink, and a quill—since they didn’t have paper and pens in this world—to make a copy.  

After that, they would let her eat and would come after what Elizabeth calculated was an hour to take her tray away. They would then help her change from her nightgown to a fresh dress and even style her hair, sometimes with delicate silver diadems and sometimes with fresh flowers. The guard with the keys stayed in the meantime outside the cell, waiting for them to finish, and even sometimes joining in their conversation.

Elizabeth had learned the name of this guard, Gildor, as well as the closest guard standing at the end of the corridor; Elrohir. The latter would pass in front of her door several times a day and Elizabeth would offer him fresh fruit, which he would readily accept.

The girl was making an effort to befriend them, but also to appear meek and accommodating, content with her situation and her cell, trying to extract information without them noticing. She had to be more careful, however, with Thranduil.

They talked about a bit of everything; about his world and hers, about the books he had given her to read, and she talked about books and history from her world. He also told her about the recent war and Sauron’s fall. About the intense fighting in Mirkwood and how they had burned part of the forest, but now there was peace, and the woods were on their way to recovery.

Each afternoon he arrived, never late. If anything, each day he arrived a little earlier and left a little later. And despite Elizabeth trying to fish for useful information, she would slip, too interested in their conversation.

He always sat down in the same chair, with his blank face and his cold eyes, and he sounded like he was annoyed to be there, but he never left. But sometimes, very briefly, his cold mask would slip. His eyes, or voice or face would soften but a brief instant, and Elizabeth looked forward to these moments.

The first time she had met him, she had assumed he was cold, short-tempered, and egocentric, but soon she realized it was a shield he put up to the world. She knew because she had had the same mask, and she had also worn it daily, too scared to let others in. And she wondered what had happened to the Elven King to build this barrier around him…

On her fourth day in the dungeons, Elizabeth was finally given a book on geography. She eagerly studied it and finally found a map of Middle-earth extending over two pages in the book. The problem was, she had no idea where they were or where Lady Galadriel’s home was.

So, later in the afternoon when Thranduil arrived, she made a point to say she loved traveling and described some of the most amazing places in her world she had seen. And then she asked him about the places she had read about in the book he had sent her. 

“Surely then you have seen most of these places,” Elizabeth said excitedly.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow.

“How would you come to that conclusion?”

“Well… seven thousand years would give you plenty of time to travel.” Elizabeth shrugged. “And also, I got this book with all these maps.”

Elizabeth turned and grabbed the other book on her bed, a large red leatherbound tome, and quickly opened it to a map depicting the whole of Middle-Earth spread across two pages.

“I was trying to locate where all the places that it describes are, but I am at a loss,” Elizabeth told him, placing the book on top of the other so Thranduil could see. “I hoped you have seen these—most of these—and could tell me. I mean, I don’t even know where we are.”

“Have you forgotten already the name of my kingdom?” Thranduil asked.

Elizabeth gave him a small, apologetic smile.

“You mentioned it once, and I’m bad at remembering names the first time I hear them.”

Thranduil rested his elbows on his knees and raised an eyebrow.

“You remembered mine.”

Elizabeth’s face reddened at once, and she had to look away for a moment, suddenly feeling too hot.

“Yes, well… You leave quite the impression.”

When Elizabeth turned to him, Thranduil extended his arm, asking for the book. Elizabeth quickly handed it to him through the bars and rested her forehead against the door so she could see.

Thranduil rested the opened book on his knees and pointed at the drawing of a large forest.

“We are here. Mirkwood.”

“All of this is your kingdom?” Elizabeth said, impressed.

Thranduil nodded.

“So, we’re here in these mountains—” Elizabeth said pointing at a system of mountains dividing the woods.

“No, here,” The Elven King pointed at a fortress on the edge of the forest and near the Enchanted River. “Close to Erebor.”

“Right…” Elizabeth replied overwhelmed. She wasn’t sure what the scale of the map was, but the Mirkwood forest looked enormous.

“Once we make sure you are safe… I could show it to you,” Thranduil’s unusually gentle voice, low and almost like a whisper, startled Elizabeth who looked up, unsure of what she had heard.

“Mmm?”

“Mirkwood,” Thranduil replied, his eyes boring into hers. “I could show you my kingdom.”

Elizabeth was even more taken aback because the usual coldness in Thranduil’s eyes wasn’t there. In fact, his whole face had softened. He didn’t look like the cold, heartless king that had sent her to the dungeons without a second thought. She felt like she was seeing him for the first time.

Elizabeth also realized they were really close to each other, barely more than a foot of space and only the cell door separating them.

“Oh… I’d love that, thank you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Then she saw the corners of his mouth curling in a small smile. Her heart started to beat really fast, and she felt her cheeks heat again.

Thranduil gave a small nod and looked down. If Elizabeth hadn’t known better, she would have thought he had felt shy.

His softness and consideration felt like a knife to her gut, already twisted by the guilt. But she reminded herself she needed to do it. She needed to go home.

Elizabeth cleared her throat, forcing herself to smile, and pointed at the fortress at the bottom of the Mirkwood forest.

“And what is this… Dol Guldur?”

Thranduil looked at where she was pointing.

“That was a stronghold of Sauron. It lies now empty and destroyed.”

“Sauron?”

Thranduil gave her a look like she was a weird creature and Elizabeth huffed.

“If I gave you a giant history book of my world, you’d be asking who’s who every five seconds too.”

Thranduil smirked softly.

“I’ll make you a list,” the Elven King said. “The fortress is empty now and Celeborn and I are in talks to divide this region now that Sauron’s forces are gone.”

“And Celeborn would be…?”

“Lady Galadriel’s husband.”

Elizabeth frowned, confused.

“Why are you dividing this region with him if it’s part of your kingdom?”

“That land hasn’t been part of my kingdom for centuries and Celeborn and Galadriel destroyed Dol Guldur and its forces. Besides, it’s closer to their kingdom, Lothlorien. They can oversee it much easier.”

Thranduil pointed at a fortress called Lothlórien.

“This is where lady Galadriel lives?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes. You can see it’s rather far away from us. That’s why we have to wait a fortnight.”

Elizabeth nodded.

“Yes, I see now.”

Elizabeth bit her lip, worried now. Lady Galadriel’s home looked like it was a continent away… How could they send a messenger, and have her traveling here in just a fortnight? Elizabeth’s guilt dwindled a little at this. She was right in trying to shorten the distance at least, or else she’d be locked for months.

“Crossing all of this would take a long time,” she said tracing a path through the map with her finger.

“You have to go this way,” Thranduil corrected her, tracing a longer path. “Or you’ll cross the spiders’ territory.”

Elizabeth froze for a moment and then looked up, a shiver running down her spine. Oh no, oh no…

“The what now?” She asked Thranduil, her voice going higher.

“Giant spiders,” said Thranduil. “They’re Ungoliant's spawns.”

Elizabeth shook her head quickly and bit her lip harder.

“When-when you say giant… what is your metric?” She turned to Thranduil, panicked. The King looked at her confused.

“I mean, is this giant to you…?” Elizabeth asked, swallowing hard, and using her hand to show the size of a brick. “Or like this…?” And she opened her hands, showing the size of a cat.

Thranduil still looked at her like she was losing it.

“They’re larger than a horse,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh no, no, no…” Elizabeth shook her head, panicking even more, feeling a little faint.

“What is happening? You went pale.” Thranduil stared at her, utterly confused at her reaction.

“I-I have an extreme fear of-of spiders,” Elizabeth replied starting to look around in fear, shaking her head. “And I’m talking about small, tiny spiders. And I know, logically, they cannot hurt me. I can just step on them, but I still sometimes can’t even look at them and you’re telling me they’re giant, large-than-a-horse-size spiders out there?!” She opened her eyes wide and turned to Thranduil. “They cannot enter this place, can they?!”

“No, they can’t. Calm down, you’re going to make yourself ill,” Thranduil replied. He had stood up and was watching her, openly concerned. He hadn’t even seen such a strong reaction from someone who was in danger of those spiders.

“I am ill just thinking about them!”

“We’re hunting them down,” Thranduil assured her, hoping that would calm her down. “Since Sauron’s fall their numbers have been dwindling. It won’t be long until they are no more. And even so, they only inhabit this place. You could go west or north, and you won’t cross their paths. And not one of those spiders has ever crossed my doors, you can feel safe. I swear.”

The firmness of his voice and the seriousness of his eyes made her feel reassured, her fear leaving slowly. She knew then he would protect her from those spiders no matter what, but the problem was how to avoid them while escaping from her only protection.

The next day brought another surprise.

Milneth and Grawel had just left after helping her change and style her hair, when Thranduil appeared.

Elizabeth, taken aback, quickly stood up and walked ahead to the door, hoping to cover the open geography book and the copy she had been tracing, on her bed.

“Thranduil, you’re earlier than usual,” Elizabeth greeted him with a sweet, bright smile, hoping to distract him. But if he noticed the opened book and parchment, he made no comment.

“I am. I have a gift for you.” His voice was cold and arrogant as usual, but his eyes were soft and remained that way.

“A gift?” Elizabeth looked at him, surprised.

“Well, not really a gift,” Thranduil said. “You should know I deeply regret having to lock you in here. But the cells enchantment is stronger than the one around my palace.”

“You told me that already. Has something changed?” Elizabeth frowned confused.

“Not exactly,” said Thranduil. “While I do think it’s dangerous for you to be outside… I don’t think a few moments would cause you and others harm.”

Elizabeth gave him a look and Thranduil revealed the set of keys in his hand.

“I thought you would want some fresh air.”

“Really? But what about the others?” Elizabeth asked.

“We won’t go through my palace, but rather take a route through the dungeons, which is less active. We shall hardly cross someone’s path,” Thranduil explained, and he opened the door. He gave her a fleeting smile and offered his hand to her.

“Just for a few moments, what do you say?”

Elizabeth saw his hand and then looked up at his face and smiled brightly.

“If you are sure about it,” the girl said and took the offered hand.

Her fingers closed around his bigger hand, and they paused for a moment. They had never touched, not even when passing books through the bars of the cell. Her hand looked tiny in his and it was warm. His thumb started rubbing the back of her hand.

“Your hands are cold,” he noticed, looking at her concerned.

“They always are,” Elizabeth assured him with a smile. “Do not worry. I’m fine.”

Thranduil nodded and guided her outside the cell and to the nearest stairs. Elizabeth immediately stopped.

“Oh… I have forgotten about these stairs,” she said afraid. The stairs were made of stone and were too narrow. And there was a big gap that went down several flights of stairs until the ground.

Elizabeth instinctively pressed herself against the wall and Thranduil gave her a look.

“They’re too narrow and too tall, and no handrail,” Elizabeth explained worried. “I’m going to fall and break my neck.”

“I’m not going to let you fall,” Thranduil assured her, his voice firmly.

Elizabeth knew, by the look he gave her, that if she were to fall, he would catch her. And that reassured her a little. With her free hand she grabbed the hem of her dress so she wouldn’t trip, she kept her body against the wall and followed Thranduil down the stairs, gripping his hand for dear life. He gave her a quick glance and smiled amused, when he felt how tightly she was holding onto him.

They went down several flights of stairs, and Elizabeth committed the path to memory. Then, they reached the large, cavernous cellars, filled with giant barrels and bottles of wine. They crossed the cellar and went through a metal door and onto a half-destroyed corridor, with sunlight coming through spots on the ceiling. 

“What happened?” Elizabeth asked looking at the destruction surprised.

“It was during the war,” Thranduil said, looking up as well. “Orcs tried to breach the palace through different places, but they never managed it.”

Elizabeth saw light at the end of the corridor, but Thranduil stopped her, gently.

“Careful. You haven’t been outside for days,” the Elven King told her. “Open your eyes slowly so you don’t get blinded.”

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment, touched at his consideration and nodded.

She covered her eyes so the sun wouldn’t hit her at once and without letting go of Thranduil’s hand, she followed him forward.

As the light became stronger, she closed her eyes, tightening her hold on Thranduil and getting closer to him, almost leaning onto him to not trip. As they kept walking, she felt fresh air on her face and then warm sun hitting her skin. When they stopped, Elizabeth blinked slowly, adjusting her eyes, and then, she saw Thranduil’s realm.

They were in the shadow of one of the biggest trees Elizabeth had ever seen, on a white cliff with golden foliage. On her right there was a crystal-clear waterfall surging from the mountain and falling onto a large river. Beyond, the Mirkwood forest extended, with bright green and golden foliage. 

“Oh, Thranduil… It’s beautiful,” Elizabeth whispered, taken by the grandness of the world before her. Her imagination had not done justice to what Thranduil had described to her in the past days.

 “You really think so?”

“My imagination had fallen very short,” she said turning to him with a smile and was surprised when he mirrored it. Suddenly, she was very aware of his large hand holding hers, and her practically leaning onto his side.

Elizabeth knew Thranduil was tall, she had realized that even when she first woke up, but now, standing side by side, she realized how much. She wasn’t a short woman, yet her head barely reached his shoulder. His eyes bore into hers. His hair blew in the wind, his scent surrounding her, it was musky but fresh, like lemon and some kind of wood…

A loud thud made her jump and when she turned around, she saw a construction crew working around a stone bridge behind them and the side entrance to the palace that was half destroyed.

Elizabeth’s face turned bright red, realizing she had been so focused on Thranduil, she hadn’t even noticed the dozens of elves working around them.

The girl cleared her throat and looked away, trying to stop her racing heart. Her eyes, however, landed on a patch of blackened land and scorched trees.

“Why are those trees burnt?” She asked, pointing.

“The orcs’ army burned a big part of the forest, though you can only see a small part from here,” Thranduil replied, and she turned to him, and indignant look on her face.

“Ugh, how can they burn such beautiful place?” She said upset.  “At least they didn’t damage this tree. It’s so big. It must be very old.”

And she looked up to the giant tree next to them. It’s top so large, offering them a cool shadow, and its trunk covered with beautiful white flowers. She couldn’t help but walk ahead and Thranduil joined her, not letting go of her hand.

“Such pretty flowers,” Elizabeth smiled, gracing the petals of one. It looked like a garden rose, but smaller, like two inches long. They were white and iridescent, and even in the shadow they shined.

“My father planted it when he built this place,” Thranduil said.

Elizabeth looked up to him.

“What happened to him? If… that’s alright to ask?”

Thranduil glanced at her, before focusing on the tree next to them.

“He died during the Battle of Dagorlad like so many…” he said. His voice was cold and indifferent, but Elizabeth saw the sadness in his eyes. “He was the greatest warrior I’ve ever seen,” he said, his voice softening with nostalgia. “He shouldn’t have died like he did.”

Elizabeth softly squeezed the hand she was still holding, and he looked down at her.

“I’m sorry,” the girl said softly.

“It was thousands of years ago.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t miss him.”

Thranduil nodded his head.

“I do... What about your father?”

Elizabeth sighed and looked ahead.

“I miss him,” she said. “I can’t remember really the last time I talked to him since my memories hadn’t still come back. But my last memory of him it’s not a pleasant one,” she admitted sadly. “We fought and I left his house angry.”

“What did you fight about?”

“He was worried.”

Elizabeth bit her lip and turned to Thranduil.

“My ex-boyfriend… Er, I don’t know if you know that term, we were like courting…”

“Oh.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth looked away at the extending river. “Well… he turned aggressive. Not physically, but he messed with my head, he called me names… I didn’t expect him to behave like that, so I broke off the relationship before it would get worse… And he well, he didn’t take it well. He started showing up at my house, and my work… even at my Grandparents’ So I got angry and told him to back off or I would go to the police—they’re like your king’s guard, I guess. And he understood. He left me alone, but my dad, he got upset. He told me he believed that I should’ve reported him and that he wasn’t going to leave me alone… And we fought and I left angry… And it was so stupid. I should have just done as he said. He was just worried and now… I’m not sure when I’ll see him again.”

Elizabeth smiled bitterly, her eyes watering.

“I’m sure your father won’t held that against you,” Thranduil told her softly, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand. “I’m sure he misses you too.”

Shivers ran down her spine at the contact, but Elizabeth wasn’t sure Thranduil was aware.

“He is an architect, you know. He used to show me his sketches of the buildings he designed. And he would love to see this place,” Elizabeth started to talk really fast, overwhelmed by her feelings of loss, and Thranduil’s intoxicating presence. “Your palace carved inside of a mountain… And the columns look like tree trunks, but they’re made of stone, how do you even do that? And how do these flowers look like this? They look like they shine, but up close they looked like they’re made of pearls, it’s very…”

But she stopped when he dropped her hand. She turned to him, already missing contact.

“I’m sorry. I’m babbling…”

Thranduil glanced at her and smirked.

“It’s fine. You tend to talk about unrelated things when you’re feeling overwhelmed or uncomfortable,” he responded calmly, picking one of the white flowers.

Elizabeth blinked, taken aback by his assertion of her.

“I do not,” she protested knowing full well, he had described her to a t.

Thranduil turned to her with a raised eyebrow.

“Two days ago, when I asked about your mother, you started babbling about your recipe for a chocolate tart. And when we talked about your siblings, you started a rant on why we should have more handrails in the palace.”

Elizabeth looked away, pouting annoyed. But she froze in place, when she felt Thranduil’s hand on her hair.

She quickly looked up, and saw the Elven King, smiling amused, placing the flower he had taken, on the braid around her head.

Elizabeth blushed as their eyes met.

“Does it look good?” She asked almost breathlessly.  

Thranduil tucked a strand of her behind her ear as softly as she could break with a whiff of air.

“It brings out your eyes… and compliments your dark hair,” he said, fondly, his hand gracing a path down her face, sending shivers down her spine, churning her stomach.  

Elizabeth turned her face. The alarms on her head were on full blast but she ignored them. It was fine, she told herself. She knew what she was doing.

The girl grabbed another of the flowers and pulled it out softly. Then she carefully pinned it on the silver clasp on his right shoulder.

“There,” Elizabeth said with a smile and mischievous eyes. “I can’t reach higher without some stairs so—”

But before she could drop her hand, Thranduil grabbed it, pinning it against his chest.

Elizabeth’s heart almost jumped out of her chest, and she couldn’t do anything but stare at him, her face flushing once again. His whole face had softened, his eyes looking intense and conflicted, searing holes in her soul. She couldn’t move, barely breathe, and when his other hand reached up and caressed her cheek, her heart stopped for a moment. Her mind went blank, all thoughts and plans of escaping were gone and forgotten. Elizabeth just stared at such beautiful man and her mind flooded when he started leaning in. The girl stared at his lips as her eyes started to close…

“Finally… I’ve found you…” A cold insidious voice whispered in her ear. Elizabeth gasped, scared, and turned around frantically, looking for the owner of that voice, but found nothing. Chills ran through her body, but these were different from those caused by Thranduil. These chills left her body feeling cold and numb, and her stomach was in knots, a terrible feeling starting to gnaw at her.

“Did you hear that?” He asked Thranduil, her voice barely a whisper.

“Hear what?”

She turned to Thranduil.

“I swore someone whispered in my ear just now…” She said swallowing, and shaking with cold, despite the day being warm and sunny. Elizabeth looked up at Thranduil and saw him looking at her with concern. The girl shook her head. It hadn’t been her intention worrying him. Perhaps she was overreacting. She sometimes was a bit paranoid.

“Perhaps one of their voices carried…” She said, forcing a smile, trying to calm down.

“I think we should go back,” Thranduil told her softly.

Elizabeth tried to hide her disappointment.

“Oh, right…”

“It won’t be for long,” Thranduil assured her squeezing the hand he was still holding against his chest. “Perhaps in a few days we can come back, and then Lady Galadriel will arrive in a week or so.”

Elizabeth nodded.

“Alright.”

Thranduil looked at her like there was something else he wanted to say but he didn’t. He looked around before pulling Elizabeth back to the entrance to the palace.

They crossed the long corridor that was being rebuilt and then they entered the Cellars.

Elizabeth went to the stairs, but Thranduil stopped her pulling her to a table near the door connecting the corridor, full of parchments.

Elizabeth looked at him confused.

“These are the palace’s original plans. They were brought here to assist with the repairs,” he told her with a small smile.

Elizabeth pulled one parchment and saw the sketches of this floor they were in with annotations. It was very different from the one her father did, but there was still a familiarity to it.

“I hope this help ease your nostalgia,” Thranduil said softly.

Elizabeth looked up at him, touched, her eyes shining.

“Thank you,” she said.

Thranduil stared at her for a moment and then looked away, clearing his throat.

“I, er, I shall bring some wine,” he said, letting go of her hand and moving to a wall full of crystal decanters.

“I thought we were going back to my cell,” Elizabeth said.

Thranduil stopped, wincing for a moment before turning to her.

 “I think the spell around the palace will allows a few moments more… If you wish to keep enduring my company, of course.”

Elizabeth smiled softly.

“There’s nothing to endure, Thranduil. I really enjoy your company,” Elizabeth replied earnestly. Thranduil stared at her for a moment. “Besides, you have excellent taste in wine.”

Thranduil smiled at that.

“I’ve only sent you soft and sweet wines. I didn’t know what’d you like,” he said.

“They’re excellent,” she said and then an idea slipped into her mind.

She had tried to ignore it after seeing the plans, after noticing one small enough to hide, of the throne room and the exit and the way to the stables… It was her chance, perhaps the only one she would have.

Elizabeth looked up at Thranduil’s eyes, no longer hiding behind a cold wall and hated herself. As he reached for one of the crystal bottles she said:

“But I like all kinds of wines,” she said, forcing a fake sweet smile onto her face. “I have a feeling you enjoy a different kind.”

Thranduil smirked and raised an eyebrow.

“Do you want to try the ones I drink?”

“I’d love to,” she said.

Thranduil’s smirk turned into a fond smile, and he went around the large wooden shelf, out of Elizabeth’s sight.

Her stomach was full of knots. Her heart screamed at her to stop, but her mind told it to shut it. Elizabeth looked around making sure she was alone, before grabbing the floor plan of his throne room floor. She quickly folded it until it was small enough and shoved it inside her corset, where it wouldn’t make any noise.

 Then she quickly pulled out one of the sketches detailing the columns she admired so much and placed on top of it.

Thranduil then came around carrying a golden crystal bottle in one hand and two golden cups in the other.

Elizabeth tried to calm her heart down and to look frazzled.

“This is not the wine I drink daily,” Thranduil told her, placing the cups in the end of the table and pouring wine on both of it. Then he passed one to Elizabeth.

“This one I reserve for especial occasions,” he admitted as she grabbed the cup and the looked up startled at him.

Her heart felt like someone was squeezing it hard, and she knew after she escaped, he would never forgive her. And she would have to live with that… Could she live with that?

Thranduil gave her a soft smile and raised her cup to hers. Elizabeth forced herself to smile and clang her cup to his.  

Besides guilt, Elizabeth had a heavy feeling of heartbreak, but she knew there was no going back. Sooner or later, someone would notice the missing floor plan she had taken, and it would inevitably be found on her. So, she had to leave. If Thranduil was going to turn on her, she at least didn’t want it to be in vain.   

As night fell, Grawel took Elizabeth’s dinner tray, and Milneth stayed behind to help her change into her nightgown. Before the handmaid left, Elizabeth stopped her:

“Milneth, wait,” Elizabeth said, lowering her voice until she was whispering. “Listen… I’m going to start my period soon…”

“Your period, my lady?” the elf asked, confused.

“Er, my… womanly period? My bleeding period…?”

“Oh, your moon cycle.”

“Yes! And well, I do have some terrible cramps,” Elizabeth said, placing a hand on her belly. “Sometimes I can barely stand up from my bed, and I was wondering if you don’t have anything that could help me sleep? Some herbs or a potion…?”

“We have an oil that works wonders, my lady,” Milneth said, with a smile. “It’s made of Niphredil and Lorathel. You place just one drop on your belly, and it will take your pain away and help you sleep.”

“What if I use more than one drop?” Elizabeth asked, frowning. Milneth quickly shook her head.

“It’s a strong oil, my lady. It would make you sleep for a long time. And it could be dangerous for you, as you are human.”

Elizabeth smiled, trying to reassure her.

“Understood. I’ll be very careful. Just one drop.”

Milneth smiled back.

“I’ll bring it to you at once, and some bleeding pads.”

“Thank you so much. Oh, Milneth… could you please not mention this to the king?”

Milneth gave her a startled look. Elizabeth lowered her voice and tried to look ashamed.

“From where I come from, these womanly matters are very private. And it’s embarrassing for men to know them.”

Milneth opened her eyes and readily nodded.

“I will keep your privacy, my lady,” the elf promised with a smile, before leaving her cell.

Elizabeth kept the forced smile on her face until she could no longer see her or Gildor. Then she dropped to her bed, feeling torn.  

This oil was the last part of her plan. She could only hope it would be as effective as Milneth had promised because otherwise, her plan would fail. But if it worked, by this time tomorrow she would hopefully have met Galadriel on the road.

Elizabeth sighed, took the flower Thranduil had placed in her hair, and looked at it with a sad smile. If only she had met him in her world, she thought bitterly.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Children Stories

...

Thranduil had a busy day ahead of him. He had to supervise the reconstruction of the damage caused by the war, as well as the restoration of the forest and the hunting of the remaining spiders to cleanse it. But still, he seemed only able to think about the human girl in his dungeon.

The day before, of all things, she had asked if he could come back the next day. Thranduil was intrigued by this. No one enjoyed his company. His own son had left his realm, never to return. And Tauriel, whose light had seemed to die after the Battle of the Five Armies, spoke to him only when necessary. Even his own council, once matters of the realm were resolved, would quickly leave his presence.  

So, Elizabeth had indeed enjoyed his company, or she wanted something from him. Probably to be released from the dungeons, he mused. It was the most logical explanation. He had seen the disappointment in her face when he told her she would have to wait a fortnight. He wondered how she would try to convince him to let her out. He wouldn’t of course, but he was curious, nonetheless.   

After his council meeting ended, he went down to the dungeons. He found Elizabeth sitting on the bed, with bare feet and her back against the wall, immersed in a large leather-bound book. She didn’t even hear him approaching.

 “Do you enjoy the songs of our past?” he asked, and immediately saw her jump and look up, startled.  

Thranduil approached until he was just on the other side of her door.

“I apologize if I startled you,” he said.

“Only because I was too immersed.” Elizabeth shrugged, closing the book. “I was already a fan of history in my world, but your history… is something else.”

“The War of Wrath,” Thranduil read the title on the large book resting on the girl’s lap. “It will take you a while to finish that one.”

“I don’t mind, it is really interesting,” Elizabeth gave him a smile. “Though I don’t quite understand some things. What are the Valar? They’re mentioned quite a lot, but it does not say…”

“The Valar are the Powers of the World.”

“The Powers? Are they gods?”

“No. They are very powerful spirits, created by Eru Ilúvatar, the creator of all. They lived in a land only reached by a few, but even despite their power they rarely intervene in the world,” Thranduil said, frowning. He had not cared about the Valar or their affairs for a long time—since the day he had to build his late wife a statue because he never had a body to bury…

“You don’t seem very fond of them,” Elizabeth said, uncertainly.

“I accepted the role they wish to play in the world. It is what it is. I even considered they may have played a part in bringing you here,” he told her.

Elizabeth looked up at him.

“Do you think they did?”

“They certainly have the power to do so,” Thranduil said fixing his cold eyes on Elizabeth. “If they didn’t, they may know who did.”

Elizabeth moved the book away from her lap and approached the door.

“And couldn’t we ask them?” She said, eagerly. Thranduil shook his head.

“The Valar live in the Undying Lands. Those who reach them can only leave them with their express permission, rarely granted. And a mortal, such as you, wouldn’t survive long there.”

Elizabeth looked taken aback.

“What do you mean?”

“You will decay faster, your life span cut in half… perhaps more,” Thranduil replied and saw her face fell.

“Oh, so, not an option,” the girl said disappointed, looking down at her hands, but then looked up at Thranduil with a confused expression on her face: “Wait, aren’t you mortal?”

“I am not,” Thranduil replied matter-of-factly. “I can be killed but I do not age and die like humans. No elf can.”

“If you don’t age… How old are you?” Elizabeth asked him.

Thranduil buffed, amused. The nerve of this girl kept astounding him. She had never referred to him as my lord, despite hearing everyone else do it, and she spoke like they’d been friends for centuries, and not like two strangers who had just met two days before. But he knew she was sincere. This was her being herself. And he begrudgingly liked that she looked him in the eye and spoke her mind to him. It was refreshing.

“Age stopped being important to me centuries ago,” Thranduil told Elizabeth, and suppressed a smile when he saw the shock on her face. Her awe was somewhat endearing.

“Centuries? You have been alive for centuries?!”

Thranduil nodded his head as Elizabeth stared at him.

 “I think I understand now why you’re so ill-tempered all the time.”

Thranduil gave her a look. This human. One moment he amused him, the next he insulted him.

“I mean, I would be too if I’ve been alive for that long,” the girl continued.

“I am not ill-tempered,” Thranduil told her, glaring at her.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, apparently unaware of angering him.

“Even right now you’re looking at me like you’re going to bite my head off,” the girl replied, cheekily.

“Perhaps I only look as such at those who do not respect me.” Thranduil glared at the girl even more.

“I do respect you,” Elizabeth said quickly.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes.

“You could have fooled me.”

“Do you want me to lie?” Elizabeth asked, tilting her head. “Tell you that you’re such a smiling and easy-going king?”

Thranduil turned around, hiding a smirk. How did she amuse him by insulting him, he thought. But before he could move, he felt his sleeve being grabbed and when he turned, he saw her small hand, between the cell bars, holding onto his robe.

“Wait, please! I’m sorry. You’re right, I was disrespectful,” the girl said worriedly. “But I was just teasing. I did not mean to insult you, really!”

Thranduil looked at her small hand clutching his sleeve through the doors and then at her panicked face between the bars. If her intentions had been anything but innocent, the bars would have prevented her from even sticking her arm out.

“I was just going to go fetch that chair,” Thranduil replied with a raised eyebrow, and pointed at a wooden chair on the other side of the corridor.

Elizabeth let go of his sleeve.

“You weren’t going to leave?”

“I should, after those comments,” said Thranduil and gave her a small smirk before turning around. He grabbed the chair from the other side of the corridor, carefully wiping all emotion off his face.   

He placed the chair in front of her temporary bed, so she could sit as well.

“You know, there are not many people left in this world who would address me with such cheek as you do,” Thranduil told the girl, leaning back on the chair and raising an eyebrow. “Certainly not humans locked in my dungeons.”

Thranduil saw the uncertainty on her face. And he saw her mind working quickly, almost hearing the wheels turning at full speed inside.

“Well, you did mention I was a guest, not a prisoner,” said Elizabeth with a nervous smile.

“And such a rude guest,” said Thranduil, not being able to hold back the faintest of smiles.

Elizabeth smiled back, relieved.

“And yes, living for seven thousand years would make many… ill-tempered,” he continued tilting his head, eager to see her reaction at his teasing.

Elizabeth recoiled immediately, just as startled as when he first came in.

“Seven-seven thousand…?! You’re joking!”

Thranduil gave her a look.

“But then…” Elizabeth turned and grabbed the War of Wrath book and quickly opened it to an illustration of the war. She turned it around, showing Thranduil.

“You were alive when all this happened?”

Thranduil looked at the illustration, and his small smile faded. Even after all those years, he could still hear the clangor of steel meeting steel and smell the dragon fire melting flesh…

“I was born at the end of the First Age,” Thranduil replied looking away, trying to keep the images away from his mind. “I was but a green boy when the War of Wrath started.”

“I cannot fathom living such long time,” said Elizabeth softly.

Thranduil shrugged.

“Humans’ lives, to elves, are but a second in time,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“So, in a couple hundred of years, you won’t even remember me, not even my name,” Elizabeth said, but Thranduil noticed a twinge of bitterness in her voice. He turned to look at her and he saw sadness in her face and disappointment in her eyes. He felt the sudden urge to erase it from her face. He wanted to see her smile again.

“On the contrary. I’ll always remember the insolent girl who fell from the sky,” Thranduil told Elizabeth, and he meant it. Another seven thousand years could come, and he would remember her big doe eyes and her impetuous smiles.

His words were rewarded by a bright smile, a smile that stayed on the Elven King’s mind longer than he cared to admit.

Thranduil would never admit it to anyone—he could barely accept it even in the safety of his own mind—but he was looking forward to seeing Elizabeth again. And each day the urge grew stronger.  

He would spend his mornings and meetings counting the moments until he could leave. He would think about gifts he could send her, more dresses, or books, or diadems for her hair. And each time, he would leave earlier—and stay longer by her side.

He was really surprised by this little human. She seemed to be full of knowledge. Thranduil had lived seven thousand years and there was little he knew, but Elizabeth offered him countless new tales of wars and horror, and love and heartbreak.

Such as the day he asked her about the songs of her world. She picked one about a king named Arthur and his knights.

“But many historians suspect that he never existed… That it was just a myth, a fairytale,” the girl said.

“Fairytale…” he repeated, not knowing what she meant.

“They are basically legends,” Elizabeth said shrugging. “People used to believe the stories were real a long time ago but as time passed and they were retold over and over, and proven untrue, they became children’s stories. My parents used to read them to me and my sisters when we were young. But I still like them. They’re fascinating and some of them are really dark to be considered children’s tales. There’s one about a witch who could summon the sun, the night, and the darkness in the form of riding knights and there was a skull that could burn people alive.”  

The excitement on her face managed to pull a small smile out of him.

“So that must be your favorite,” he asked.

“Huh?”

“Your favorite story,” he said amused. “The one with the knights and the skull.”

“Oh…” Elizabeth smiled. “No. That would be Beauty and the Beast.”

“A beast?”

“Well, more like a prince cursed to live as a beast because of his arrogance and selfishness.”

Elizabeth hugged her knees and hid a smile, sizing Thranduil up.   

“Why was he cursed?” Thranduil asked, raising an eyebrow. It annoyed him a little the teasing smile that had appeared on her lips. Like there was something amusing that only she was privy to.

“He was rude to the wrong person,” she replied still smiling.

Thranduil just stared at her expectantly. Elizabeth continued, blinking, confused.

“Er, one night, this old woman asked to spend the night. And she didn’t have any gold, only a rose to pay the prince. However, the prince found her ugly and threw her out. The old woman told him to not be misguided by her exterior but when the prince dismissed her again, she turned into a beautiful sorceress. And because she saw there wasn’t compassion or love in his heart, she cursed the prince and turned him into a beast.

“She told him that, to break the curse, he had to learn to love someone and earn her love in return. But he only had until the enchanted rose began to wilt. And if he failed, he would remain a beast forever.”

There was a small pause and an awkward silence. Thranduil looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

“And did he?”

“Oh… do you-do you want to hear the whole story?” Elizabeth sat straight, looking at the king perplexed.

Elizabeth looked at him as a strange puzzle presented before her, and Thranduil was pleased.

The king didn’t care much about a story she herself admitted was for children, but there was something in this story that amused her, and it was related to him, he could tell. So he wanted to know what.

He nodded his head, his lips curling up in the smallest of smiles to reassure her.

“Alright. Well… Er, years later, in a small town nearby…”

Elizabeth told Thranduil the story and he hated admitting that he was really invested in it. He told himself it was Elizabeth’s ability to tell a story. The way her eyes would sparkle with excitement or how she conveyed the fear or the anger on the situation.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow when she mentioned the beast locking the girl on a room. Elizabeth blushed and hesitated.

“The story goes like that! I’m not making it up,” she said raising her hands in the air, and Thranduil kept listening to the tale begrudgingly.

“Then the Beast fell unconscious. Belle started crying and told him she loved him, but the last petal fell, and he stopped breathing,” Elizabeth said, finishing the story.

Thranduil huffed, angry.

“And that’s it? That’s your favourite story?!”

Elizabeth looked at him, taken aback.

“Why are you angry?”

“After all he went through,” Thranduil said, shaking his head, “after all he learned—he just dies? What are you smiling at?!”

Thranduil glared at the girl who did a terrible job of hiding a smile. She even had the gall to chuckle.

“Nothing I just… didn’t expect for you to be this invested,” Elizabeth shrugged. “Your only reaction to Hamlet was ‘that was unfortunate.’”

“Well, apparently you love stories where everyone just dies,” Thranduil replied angry and annoyed, especially because she was right. She shouldn’t be this upset at something so trivial.

“The Beast doesn’t die,” Elizabeth said, softly.

“He doesn’t?”

“The spell gets broken at the last moment, and the sorceress heals him.”

Thranduil looked at her, still glaring. Elizabeth sighed and continued.

“Hundreds of stars began to fall around them. Light surrounded the Beast until his whole body glowed and transformed back into a handsome prince. And not only him but all the others and even the castle turns back to their original form.

“And some time later the Beast, now a price again marries Belle. And they live happily ever after.”

Thranduil deepened his glare.

“You’re being condescending.”

“I am not!” Elizabeth said, lightly exasperated. “That’s the real ending, I swear. Most fairytales have happy endings, that’s why they’re considered children stories, because reality, well… There’s rarely any happily-ever-afters.”

“Yes,” Thranduil conceded, thinking fleetingly on a stone statue at the entrance of this palace.

He looked up and saw Elizabeth looking at him with what he assumed was pity. His anger and annoyance returned for a different reason. This human girl was becoming proficient at guessing what he was feeling or thinking. He wiped all emotions from his face and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s still not a very good ending, isn’t it?” he said.

“What?” Elizabeth looked at him confused.

“The beast needed to learn that appearance it’s not what it’s important, yet he turned back into a, how do you put it, a handsome prince.”

“That wasn’t the lesson,” Elizabeth replied indignantly.

“No?” Thranduil smirked.

“He wasn’t turned into a beast only because he was vain, but because the beast form represented what was inside,” Elizabeth told him. “He was materialistic, he was arrogant, he was aggressive. Even if he hadn’t been cursed, sooner or later he would act the same as a beast. And it shows that not only the prince but all of us are capable of anger, and hatred and selfishness, but it’s our actions what defined us as human or a beast… Well, I mean, I know you’re not human but—”

“Yes, I know what you mean.”

“And it shows that even if those emotions get the best of us, we can still change,” Elizabeth continued her passionate tirade. “If we really try, we can break the curse.”

His smirk widened and she looked at him annoyed.

“What?”

“I think you missed your calling,” he told her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you mentioned in your world you were a diplomat…”

“Yes, something like that,” Elizabeth said.

“You should have been a poet,” Thranduil told her.

Elizabeth gave him a bitter smile.

“You can barely make a living as a poet in my world, or you need to be very good at it or very lucky, and I’m not either.”

“You are a good storyteller.”

“No, I’m good at telling other’s stories, not mine,” Elizabeth replied, looking away. “Mine are not worthy to share.”

Thranduil saw pain and sadness in her face before she turned her face from him. There was an empty feeling on his stomach, and he felt the urge to comfort her but before he could say anything, Elizabeth turned with a bright smile and turned to him.

“Hey, I was thinking, you mentioned you had horses but we’re inside a mountain. Do you keep the stables out or where are they?”

It was Thranduil’s turn to look taken aback. He saw her bright smile and noticed it was forced. Her eyes still looked sad, but he started to notice she did that whenever the conversation turned uncomfortable for her. Especially when it was about her family. He didn’t know if it was because they had parted in bad terms or just remembering them was too painful when there was still not a clear path of how to return to her world.

Either way, just like the other times, Thranduil humored her change of topic without saying a word.

“They’re inside,” Thranduil replied and started telling her about the horses. Elizabeth used bright smiles and trivial topics to hide her emotions, just as he used his blank masks. So… who was he to judge?

Elizabeth was insolent, had no regard for his title or station, and he could tell she had been quite spoiled. Yet she was kind and attentive. He had noticed that she quickly cultivated friendships with her handmaids and the guards assigned to her. She knew them by name—even if she butchered the pronunciation each time—and often showed them kindness.

The following day, during one of their long talks, Elrohir passed by as part of his patrol.

“Just a second, please,” Elizabeth said, interrupting Thranduil. She grabbed an orange from her fruit bowl. The girl quickly stood up from the bed and extended her hand through the bars, calling to the guard.

“Elrohir, here!”

The guard stopped, hesitant under the severe glare of his king and the cheerful girl beckoning him with her other hand.

After an awkward moment, Thranduil nodded, annoyed, and the guard quickly approached and took the orange.

He then gave Elizabeth a quick smile, followed by a deep bow to Thranduil, before leaving in a rush.

Elizabeth placed her hands on her hips and turned to Thranduil.

“Why did you glare at him like that? He was so scared he almost dropped the orange.”

“Do you make a habit of feeding my guards with the food that is given to you?” Thranduil asked her, annoyed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Elrohir’s shift is long.” Elizabeth shrugged. “I just give him a piece of fruit when he walks by. It’s not important.”

“It is if it distracts him from his job. He’s supposed to guard—not to make eyes at you.”

Thranduil glared at the girl, annoyed.

“I… it’s just friendly.” Elizabeth sat down and sighed. “He’s not trying anything. It’s just… It’s a little bit lonely. I spend the afternoon with you, and it goes so fast when we talk, but the rest of the day I barely see someone else.”

Thranduil stopped glaring and turned to her, grabbing onto one of the cell door bars.

“I-I’m not complaining,” Elizabeth replied quickly. “I understand I have to stay here to keep your people safe. I want to keep them safe too… But… it can be lonely…”

The growing guilt in his stomach reared its ugly head once again.

“I apologize,” he said wholeheartedly. Here he was getting angry at her for being kind to his people and it was out of loneliness.

“Don’t… it’s not your fault…”

Elizabeth placed her hand below his. Their hands didn’t touch, but he still felt as though he were holding hot iron.

Her eyes looked up at him through the bars, and he couldn’t help but stare back. His cold heart—believed to be dead for centuries—was now beating fast.

Her sweet but sad expression haunted the Elven king the entire night. He paced around in his rooms, getting angry at himself for how he had treated her, and frustrated because he couldn’t release her permanently and ensure her safety.  

But then, as the sun started to break the night, a thought occurred to him. He couldn’t release her for good until Galadriel arrived. The spell around his palace wasn’t as strong as the one in the cell, but perhaps, if it were only for a short time… an hour or two outside, just so Elizabeth could breathe fresh air and feel the sun, even if only for a few moments… The only problem was how to get her out and in quickly…

But then he knew. Of course. How hadn’t he thought of that before?

That morning, after breaking his fast, he arrived early at the Council chambers. Before anyone could speak, he turned to his man, Haldril, who oversaw the palace’s restorations.

“How is the reconstruction of the Cellars’ exit going?”

The man looked at his king, perplexed.

“My lord.”

“The exit, next to the Palace’s waterfall,” Thranduil said, annoyed at the man.

“Oh, well, we stopped the ceiling from collapsing completely, but we’ve been focusing our efforts on the garden walls and the main—”

“Never mind that,” Thranduil interrupted him. “I need that corridor functional. It doesn’t need to be finished, but it needs to be secure enough to walk through it safely.”

“My-my lord—” But whatever Haldril was going to say died on his lips under the cold look from his king. He deeply bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

“And I need it secured for the day after tomorrow.”

“But—” The man glanced at the rest of the Council as if his king had lost his mind, but the other members avoided his eyes.

“Use as many men as you need to complete it. It’s an order, Haldril.”

Haldril bowed and left quickly to halt the other construction projects and redirect efforts to an entrance barely any of them used.  

Thranduil woke up earlier that day to make sure the corridor had been secured after his instructions. Then he instructed his men to vacate the Cellars and the path he and Elizabeth would take to the entrance. It was his risk to take, after all.

Then after he made sure everything was ready, he went to meet Elizabeth. He found her freshly changed into blue dress that complemented her, bent over a book, drawing on a piece of parchment.

When she noticed him, Elizabeth quickly stood up and walked ahead to the door to meet him.

“Thranduil, you’re earlier than usual,” Elizabeth said with a bright smile that made him stop and stare for a moment.

“I am. I have a gift for you,” he said with his usual cold voice trying to mask the nervousness that had started to grow in his stomach.

“A gift?” Elizabeth looked at him, surprised.

“Well, not really a gift,” Thranduil said. “You should know I deeply regret having to lock you in here. But the cells’ enchantment is stronger than the one around my palace.”

“You told me that already. Has something changed?”

“Not exactly,” said Thranduil. “While I do think it’s dangerous for you to be outside… I don’t think a few moments would cause you and others harm.”

Elizabeth gave him a look and Thranduil revealed the set of keys in his hand.

“I thought you would want some fresh air.”

Elizabeth’s face lit up immediately, and Thranduil thought it had been worth it.  

“Really? But what about the others?”

“We won’t go through my palace, but rather take a route through the dungeons, which is less active. We shall hardly cross someone’s path,” Thranduil explained, and he opened the door. He gave her a fleeting smile and offered his hand to her.

“Just for a few moments, what do you say?”

Elizabeth gifted him another bright smile.

“If you are sure about it,” the girl said and took the offered hand.

Her fingers closed around his bigger hand, and they paused for a moment. They had never touched, not even when passing books through the bars of the cell. Her hand looked tiny in his and it was ice cold. His thumb started rubbing the back of her hand, trying to warm her.

“Your hands are cold,” he noticed, looking at her concerned. He thought about her always wearing a cloak, and he had made sure to send her plenty of blankets. Perhaps he should have sent her warmer clothes.

“They always are,” Elizabeth assured him with a smile. “Do not worry. I’m fine.”

Thranduil nodded and guided her outside the cell and to the nearest stairs. Elizabeth immediately stopped, and he turned to her confused.

“Oh… I have forgotten about these stairs,” she said afraid and looked down at the stairs, shaking lightly. Elizabeth instinctively pressed herself against the wall, and Thranduil turned to her.

“They’re too narrow and too tall, and no handrail,” Elizabeth explained worried. “I’m going to fall and break my neck.”

“I’m not going to let you fall,” Thranduil assured her. Elizabeth stopped for a moment and then nodded, grabbing the hem of her dress and following him slowly.   

Her tiny hand gripped his with a strength that surprised him, so he didn’t try to rush, and placed himself between the edge of the stairs and Elizabeth.

They went down several flights of stairs and soon they reached the Cellars. He pulled Elizabeth to the reconstructed corridor.

“What happened?” Elizabeth asked looking around.

“It was during the war,” Thranduil said, looking up at the still open spots on the ceiling. “Orcs tried to breach the palace through different places, but they never managed it.”

It had been a fierce battle. Thranduil hadn’t known then whether his kingdom would fall but he gave everything to protect it, even when those monsters started to burn it. In the end, the damage to the palace wasn’t significant, but the loss of his people… Many gave their lives on the War of the Ring.   

Noticing the light was growing stronger, Thranduil stopped Elizabeth, gently.

“Careful. You haven’t been outside for days. Open your eyes slowly so you don’t get blinded.”

Elizabeth covered her eyes so the sun wouldn’t hit her at once and didn’t let go of Thranduil’s hand. He suppressed a smile, secretly pleased as he pulled her outside.

As they kept walking, she kept her eyes closed but kept walking closer until her body was pressed against his.

He didn’t stop until they crossed the bridge. If she was afraid of the stairs, she would be of that narrow piece of stone as well.

Once they were on the shade of his father’s tree, Elizabeth opened her eyes slowly.

“Oh, Thranduil… It’s beautiful,” Elizabeth whispered, her eyes wide and her pink mouth slightly opened. Her innocent expression full of wonder reminded him of when he had first arrived here with his father as a young elf and had stood in this place too, contemplating the world beneath him.

 “You really think so?”

“My imagination had fallen very short,” she said turning to him and Thranduil couldn’t help but smile at her words. His eyes bore into hers. The brown and the ring of green in them matched the foliage of his kingdom. And her cheeks were turning a bright pink…

A loud thud made her jump and then her face passed from pink to red. Thranduil supressed a smile. It was good to know he wasn’t the only one feeling nervous. 

“Why are those trees burnt?” Elizabeth asked him, pointing at them.

His face darkened lightly at the memory.

“The orcs’ army burned a big part of the forest, though you can only see a small part from here,” Thranduil replied.

“Ugh, how can they burn such beautiful place?” Elizabeth said upset.  “At least they didn’t damage this tree. It’s so big. It must be very old.”

She looked up at his father’s tree next to them. She walked ahead and Thranduil joined her, not wanting to let go of her hand.

“Such pretty flowers,” Elizabeth smiled, gracing the petals of one.

“My father planted it when he built this place,” Thranduil said, looking at her, pleased she liked it that much.

Elizabeth turned to him.

“What happened to him? If… that’s alright to ask?”

Thranduil glanced at her, before looking at the tree.

“He died during the Battle of Dagorlad like so many…” He said not wanting to remember but still seeing every detail, including his father’s body in the marshes… “He was the greatest warrior I have ever seen. He shouldn’t have died the way he did.”

Elizabeth softly squeezed his hand. He looked down at her, but he didn’t saw pity in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” the girl said softly.

“It was thousands of years ago,” he dismissed it.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t miss him.”

Thranduil nodded his head.

“I do... What about your father?”

Elizabeth sighed and looked ahead.

“I miss him,” she said. “I can’t remember really the last time I talked to him since my memories hadn’t still come back. But my last memory of him it’s not a pleasant one,” she admitted sadly. “We fought and I left his house angrily.”

“What did you fight about?”

“He was worried.”  

Elizabeth bit her lip and looked up at him.

“My ex-boyfriend… Er, I don’t know if you know that term, we were like courting…”

“Oh.”

An emotion he didn’t care about surged once again. Last time he felt it had been when Elizabeth had eagerly given one of his guards an orange.

“Yes,” Elizabeth looked away at the extending river. “Well… he turned aggressive. Not physically, but he messed with my head, he called me names… I didn’t expect him to behave like that, so I broke off the relationship before it would get worse… And he well, he didn’t take it well. He started showing up at my house, and my work… even at my grandparents’. So I got angry and told him to back off or I would go to the police—they’re like your king’s guard, I guess. And he understood. He left me alone, but my dad, he got upset. He told me he believed that I should’ve reported him and that he wasn’t going to leave me alone… And we fought and I left angry… And it was so stupid. I should have just done as he said. He was just worried and now… I’m not sure when I’ll see him again.”

The jealousy, foreign as he was to Thranduil was quickly replaced by anger and indignation and then relief and sorrow for Elizabeth.

Her smile was bitter, and her eyes held unshed tears.

“I’m sure your father won’t held that against you,” Thranduil said, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand trying to offer her comfort. “I’m sure he misses you too.”

“He is an architect, you know. He used to show me his sketches of the buildings he designed. And he would love to see this place,” Elizabeth started to talk really fast, and Thranduil knew she was avoiding the difficult topic once again. “Your palace carved inside of a mountain… And the columns look like tree trunks, but they’re made of stone, how do you even do that? And how do these flowers look like this? They look like they shine, but up close they looked like they’re made of pearls, it’s very…”

But she stopped when he dropped her hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m babbling…”

Thranduil glanced at her and smirked.

“It’s fine. You tend to talk about unrelated things when you’re feeling overwhelmed or uncomfortable,” he responded calmly, picking one of the white flowers.

“I do not,” she protested but Thranduil turned to her with a raised eyebrow. They both knew she was lying.

“Two days ago, when I asked about your mother, you started babbling about your recipe for a chocolate tart. And when we talked about your siblings, you started a rant on why we should have more handrails in the palace.”

Elizabeth looked away, pouting annoyed. Thranduil couldn’t help but smile. She could be so endearing at times… He then placed the flower he had picked softly in the braid on her hair.

Their eyes met. Her cheeks were again a bright pink.

“Does it look good?” She asked him, her voice almost a whisper. 

Thranduil tucked a stand of her behind her ear, gently. He noticed she had some faint freckles on her cheeks.

“It brings out your eyes… and compliments your dark hair,” he said fondly, his hand tracing a path down her soft face. His hand seemingly having a mind of his own.

But Elizabeth turned away and he dropped his hand, his stomach churning. Perhaps he had crossed a line… 

 But then the girl plucked a flower and placed it on the clasp on his shoulder.

“There,” Elizabeth said her impetuous eyes shining. “I can’t reach higher without some stairs so—”

But before she could drop her hand, Thranduil quickly grabbed it, pinning it against his chest. His eyes bore into hers and he wondered if she could feel his stone heart racing in his chest. What was this feeling he wondered. This feeling hadn’t perturbed his mind in more than a millennium, but yet here it was back making feel like a nervous green boy.

His free hand reached up for her cheek, marvelling at the softness of it, at the warmth and at her blush. Her large doe eyes stared at him and then she looked down at his lips… Why humans are so short, Thranduil mused as he hurried to close the distance.

But Elizabeth gasped and jumped turning around frantically. His mind quickly cleared, ashamed he had crossed a line… but the girl wasn’t even looking at him, she was looking around as if she expected something else to be there with them.

“Did you hear that?” He asked Thranduil, her voice barely a whisper.

“Hear what?” He asked worried. Elizabeth was shaking with fear. What had happened?

“I swore someone whispered in my ear just now…” she said.

Elizabeth looked up at Thranduil and then shook her head.

“Perhaps one of their voices carried…” She said, forcing a smile.

She was trying to minimize her reaction, but Thranduil feared he had been right, and someone had waited until Elizabeth was out of the barrier’s protection to reach her.  

“I think we should go back,” Thranduil told her softly, trying to not worry her even more, but he was concerned of what could happen if she stayed out here any longer.

Elizabeth’s face fell.

“Oh, right…”

His guilt returned tenfold.

“It won’t be for long,” Thranduil assured her squeezing the hand he was still holding against his chest. “Perhaps in a few days we can come back, and then Lady Galadriel will arrive in a week or so.”

Elizabeth nodded, but she was still disappointed.

“Alright.”

Thranduil looked at her wanting to just let her do as she pleased. He wanted to always see her smile and be happy and safe… but for that they needed to wait…

He looked around before pulling Elizabeth back to the entrance to the palace.

They crossed the long corridor that was being rebuilt and then they entered the Cellars.

Elizabeth went to the stairs, but Thranduil stopped her pulling her to a table near the door connecting the corridor, full of parchments. He had an idea. It may not be the same as going out the palace, but it was better than to return her to her cell right away.

“These are the sketches and plans for this palace,” he told her as she looked up confused. “They brought them here to use on the repairs,” he told her with a small smile.

Elizabeth pulled one parchment.

“I hope this help ease your nostalgia,” Thranduil said softly.

Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes soft with nostalgia.

“Thank you,” she said.  

Thranduil stared at her for a moment and then looked away, clearing his throat.

“I er, I shall bring some wine,” he said, letting go of her hand even though he regretted it immediately.  

He moved to a wall full of crystal decanters.

“I thought we were going up to my cell,” Elizabeth said.

Thranduil stopped, wincing for a moment before turning to her.

 “I think the spell around the palace will allow us a few moments more… If you wish to keep enduring my company, of course.”

Elizabeth smiled softly.

“There’s nothing to endure, Thranduil. I really enjoy your company,” Elizabeth replied earnestly. Thranduil stared at her for a moment. “Besides, you have excellent taste in wine.”

Thranduil smiled at that. He was secretly glad she had enjoyed the wine he had send her.

“I’ve only sent you soft and sweet wines. I didn’t know what’d you like,” he said.

“They’re excellent,” she said.

As he turned around to pick a wine, her voice stopped him: “But I like all kinds of wines. I have a feeling you enjoy a different kind.”

Thranduil turned to her and smirked.

“Do you want to try the ones I drink?”

“I’d love to,” she said, eagerly.

Thranduil smiled back and went around the large wooden shelf. He was fascinated by her world, and he was always eager to hear more, but he had found he really loved sharing his with her. There was something thrilling about her interested in aspects of his life, even if it was something as trivial as the wine he drank everyday… but then he thought about the ones he kept for festivals… It could make this more special, the king thought as he picked one pricey bottle out of its mahogany box. He then quickly poured it on a crystal bottle and grabbed two golden cups.

 When he returned, he saw Elizabeth admiring the stone columns she seemed so fascinated by. And he was glad when he noticed she was still nervous.

“This is not the wine I drink daily,” Thranduil told her, placing the cups at the end of the table and pouring wine into both cups. He passed one to Elizabeth.  

“This one I reserve for especial occasions,” he admitted as she grabbed the cup. Elizabeth looked up, startled, her cheeks turning bright red.

Thranduil smiled, pleased and raised his cup to hers. The look she gave him kept him up most of the night, but this time he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind either dreaming about hazel eyes.

Thranduil was barely acknowledging his Council as they talked. His mind was busy thinking about Elizabeth and what to do to keep her happy and entertained.

Yesterday, they had spent the day in his Cellars. He had sent for their meals to be delivered there and then they just talked like they did in the afternoons, but it had been a thousand times better. There was no cell door between them, and this time he could offer small gestures, like holding her hand or tucking her hair behind her ear.

Elizabeth still looked worried though she was trying to hide it. So, he sent more messengers to bring Lady Galadriel sooner.

He was eager to show Elizabeth real hospitality and to show her his kingdom. There was a festival coming up in a few months. Perhaps she would like to go with him…

His musings were interrupted when one of the captains of his guard burst in the room.

“What is the meaning of this?!” one of his council members exclaimed, angrily.

The captain turned to Thranduil.

“I apologize, my lord, but… they’ve taken Lady Elizabeth.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Lies

Thranduil followed his guard down to the dungeons, his mind collapsing under a  thousand thoughts rushing all at once… How…? Who…? Was she hurt…? Was she taken alive…?

He arrived at Elizabeth’s cell and looked around speechlessly, the world moving in slow motion.

Elhorir was lying on the ground outside the cell, being looked over by two guards. Whether he was alive or not, Thranduil didn’t know. Inside the cell was another guard on the floor, Gildor, and a handmaid, Grawel, lying on the bed, unconscious too. A tray with dishes lay spilled next to her. Guards were also around Gildor and Grawel, and Elizabeth’s other maid, Milneth, was crying by the door.

“What happened?” Thranduil asked her. His mind was still foggy because of the shock.

“I-I don’t know, my l-lord,” the maid sobbed. “L-lady Elizabeth had just f-finished her meal.”

“Did you see who did this?”

Milneth shook her head.

“I went ahead while Grawel helped lady Elizabeth with her hair.”

“Did you see someone or something out of the ordinary when you left?”

“No, I—”

But she was cut by a loud thud and the clang of metal. The she-elf gasped, and when Thranduil turned, he saw that one of the guards helping Gildor had collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

“What happened?” Thranduil asked the remaining guard.

“He just collapsed, my lord,” the guard replied, shaking his head, confused and scared.

Thranduil approached but then an odd scent made him stop dead in his tracks. It wasn’t the oil he had given Elizabeth for her hair. That was a mix of flowers, this was more herbal.

“What is that scent?” Thranduil asked the guard.

“It smells like Lorathel, my lord.”

“Yes, Lorathel and Niphredil,” Thranduil said and then realized what had happened. “They must have touched Drowse Oil barehanded.”

The guard stood up quickly and frowned.

“But how?”

There was a loud gasp behind him and when he turned, he saw Milneth looking terrified.

“I-I gave lady Elizabeth some Drowse Oil,” the handmaid said, her voice barely a whisper.

Thranduil gave her an incredulous and angry look.

“What?! Why wasn’t I informed?”

“She-she asked me not to tell you, m-my lord,” Milneth sobbed. “She said it was for her m-moon cycle, b-but she said it was embarrassing for her if a man found out…”

As realization of what she had done set in, her voice died down. Thranduil looked away. So, Elizabeth had manipulated her handmaid into giving her that oil… He could even picture her big eyes looking anxious, asking Milneth to keep her secret, taking advantage of the elf’s ignorance of how the human world worked.

But maybe, he said to himself, perhaps that had been innocent… perhaps, Elizabeth had really needed the oil, and whoever took her had use it to incapacitate his guards…

“The scent comes from here,” the guard interrupted his thoughts, pointing at the large wall mirror next to the fruit bowl. Thranduil had sent her the mirror as a gift on the third day.

“And from here,” said another guard, pointing at the tray.

“Whoever took lady Elizabeth…” But Thranduil’s words died as he noticed a bright orange half eaten on the other side of the cell door, next to Elhorir.

Thranduil’s heart started to beat fast, his mind trying to deny what was happening.

“What about that orange?” He managed to ask. “Does it have the scent too?”

One of the guards outside approached the fruit.

“Yes, my lord.”

His guard’s words might as well have been a dagger to his pride, to his back…

“No one took Elizabeth,” Thranduil said, his face hardening with fury, his voice spitting anger. “She did this.”

He could see it now, clear as day. Elizabeth had manipulated him and everyone around them since day one. She faked kindness so they would lower their guards… She had fed fresh fruit to Elhorir every day with a warm conniving smile. He would never have suspected the oil she had placed on it…

And the mirror… It wasn’t in the position it was yesterday. Elizabeth had probably asked Gildor to move it… And the tray, that was to take Grawel out… but not Milneth…

He turned to the handmaid who shrunk in terror at his gaze.

“You and Grawel always leave together. Why did you go ahead first? Did you plan this with Elizabeth?”

Milneth’s eyes opened in terror, and she fell to her knees.

“No! No! I swear, my Lord!” And she extended a book she had been holding, showing it to him. Thranduil hadn’t even noticed it before. It was the War of Wrath book Elizabeth had been so fond of.  “She asked me to bring this book to you. She said you had asked for it for your meeting! She insisted that I should bring it to you at once!” the maid cried as Thranduil took the book.

The guard approached him and stopped him from opening it.

“My lord, there’s traces of the oil.”

Thranduil passed it to the guard who was wearing leather gloves.

“Open it. Carefully.”

The guard did as told and found a folded piece of parchment. The scent of the oil came from there.

The guard carefully opened the parchment and Thranduil saw that it was a floorplan of the first floor of his throne room. And beneath the plan Elizabeth had left a message for him. A message she intended to give him just before striking him unconscious with the oil in the parchment:

I know you won’t forgive me. I’m really sorry.

He cursed the fact that the parchment was drenched in Drowse Oil because he wanted to tear it up in pieces. That human, that woman… how dared she…?

“My lord, she left a quill in this book,” the guard interrupted his thoughts and Thranduil turned to him. “It has drops of fresh ink.”

The guard was holding the geography book open on a map that showed Middle Earth. Elizabeth had been apparently so fond of that book. Now he knew why, and he remembered that time he saw her drawing on top of it.

“She copied the map,” Thranduil said coldly and then another memory hit him.

“This is where lady Galadriel lives?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes. You can see it’s rather far away from us. That’s why we have to wait a fortnight,” Thranduil replied.

“Crossing all of this would take a long time,” Elizabeth said while tracing a path through the map with her finger.

“You have to go this way,” Thranduil corrected her, tracing a longer path. “Or you’ll cross the spiders’ territory.”

“She’s going to Lothlórien,” Thranduil said, glaring at the map. Just how many lies had she told him? He wondered angrily. Had anything she said even true?

“Should we go after her, my Lord?” The captain of his guards asked.

Thranduil pursed his lips in anger. At least, he thought, she had done it for a reason he could understand. She had betrayed his trust while trying to speed her return home. He could understand that, despite his bruised ego. If he had been in her position, he would have tried to escape as well…

“Go to the stables, first. If she has taken a horse already, follow her from afar,” Thranduil told his captain, erasing his face of all anger and other pesky emotions, his voice cold. “Make sure Elizabeth finds Galadriel. That way she won’t be our problem anymore.”

Thranduil left the cell, thinking it would be centuries before he returned down here. He just wanted to put all of this behind him.

“My Lord!” A guard stopped him in his tracks. He came running down the stairs and stopped in front of his king with a bow.

“What now?” Thranduil had no patience for any more troubles.

“The alarm from the Treasury just jumped,” the guard said breathlessly.

Thranduil at hearing those words, felt something breaking inside of him and a rush of anger like never before flooded him. If he had been holding something in his hands, he would have crushed it to pieces.

As he followed his guard upstairs, the moments he spent with Elizabeth flashed before his eyes and each infuriated him more than the last. 

“I was trying to locate where all the places that it describes are, but I am at a loss,” Elizabeth told him, placing this book on top of the other so Thranduil could see. “I hoped you have seen these most of these and could tell me. I mean, I don’t even know where we are.”

Every interaction they had, every word they exchanged, was a lie…

“He is an architect, you know. He used to show me his sketches of the buildings he designed. And he would love to see this place.” She had known how to play him, how to use his guilt against him…

“Perhaps… perhaps you can come back tomorrow,” Elizabeth asked softly. “If you have time… It’s nice… talking to you.”

And he had believed her. He, Thranduil who had lived seven thousand years had been fooled by a human who abused his generosity…

“I could show you my kingdom.”

“Oh… I’d love that, thank you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

His fury grew, fuelled by betrayal and the humiliation… He had allowed the girl liberties he didn’t allow anyone else. He had let her use his name, talk to him with deference, had showered her with gifts… He had believed her when she said she enjoyed talking to him, that she enjoyed their time together…

“So, in a couple hundred of years, you won’t even remember me, not even my name.”

“On the contrary. I’ll always remember the insolent girl who fell from the sky.”

Fool, idiot, he cursed himself. How was he so blind?

“Just for a few moments, what do you say?”

Elizabeth saw his hand and then looked up at his face and smiled brightly.

“If you are sure about it,” the girl said and took the offered hand.

She probably laughed at his stupidity, at how easily she wrapped the Elven King around her finger in a week.

“Does it look good?” she asked almost breathlessly. 

Thranduil tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as softly as if she could break with a whiff of air.

“It brings out your eyes… and compliments your dark hair.”

She had even managed to make him feel guilty. He had been desperate to offer her hospitality, to show her the beauty of his kingdom… But everything was false. She probably never lost her memories. It was all an act, and he had been right at the beginning. She was just a thief.

Thranduil was seething when he reached the corridor leading to the Treasury. It was filled with guards, there was only one entrance and the door to the Treasury was locked. No more clever escapes.

A sergeant approached Thranduil and bowed his head quickly.

“My Lord. We have secured the entrance,” he informed the king. “We’re ready to go in and capture the intruder.”

“Stand down,” Thranduil ordered, his voice dripping with poison. “I’ll do it.”

The captain of his guard wanted to protest but a murderous look was enough to silence him. The guards just made two lines, flanking the entrance as Thranduil climbed the steps to the Treasury.

He unlocked the door and stepped in. The room was dark and seemingly empty, and his steps echoed in the large, cavernous chamber filled with gold coins and gems.

“I know you are here,” Thranduil’s merciless voice rang across the room. “There’s no way out. Come out now!”

For a brief moment, he hoped someone else would step out—any pitiful, or dangerous creature… And he hoped Elizabeth was on a horse on her way to meet Galadriel…

But alas. Heels echoed soundly against the stone floor and then Elizabeth stepped out of the shadows, dressed as a handmaid.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

The Voice of Treason

Elizabeth barely slept that night. Guilt and nerves kept her up. She went through all the steps and the plan b’s she had made just in case. The Drowse Oil that Milneth had brought her, was now tucked under her pillow, waiting to be used.

The morning arrived and her handmaids with it. One was carrying the tray of food, the other fresh water.

“Good morning, lady Elizabeth.”

“Good morning, Grawel, Milneth,” Elizabeth smiled at the elves, sitting in bed.

Grawel left the tray on the bed and Milneth left the pitcher of water on the table beside Elizabeth. Then Milneth went to the oak chest—that Thranduil had sent, that contained Elizabeth’s dresses, also a gift from the king.

Milneth pulled out a light lilac dress and showed it to Elizabeth.

“What about this one, my lady?”

“I’m so cold this morning, Milneth. I think the orange might be better.”

Milneth rummaged through the many dresses Thranduil had sent and pulled out one of a dark orange-brick color made of velvet.

“It looks a little bit like ours,” Milneth said, smiling at Elizabeth.

“Oh, it does!” Elizabeth said, faking a surprised smile. It was no coincidence. She had asked for it specifically, a few days ago. It wasn’t exactly like Milneth’s and Grawel’s, but it was close enough.

“Well, I’ll gladly look like you two. Though, I may need higher shoes,” Elizabeth said, seeing how the elves in general seemed to be taller than her. “Hum, and could you pass me the leather gloves as well, Milneth, please?”

“My lady is really cold this morning,” the elf replied passing along to Elizabeth a couple of white leather gloves lined with fur that Thranduil had sent her just yesterday. They were too warm, but thick enough for the oil to not seep through.

Then, the two elves pulled the curtains, covering the cell door giving Elizabeth privacy while she washed and then helped her to change into her dress.

As Milneth folded her nightgown and Grawel turned to retrieve Elizabeth’s hairbrush and scented hair oil, quickly and carefully, Elizabeth pulled out the small Drowse Oil vial from under her pillow and shoved into her dress pocket.

Elizabeth’s heart was racing but she still smiled at her handmaids like nothing was wrong. While Milneth made her bed, Grawel styled her hair. Elizabeth had requested tighter and thicker braids to withstand a long journey.

Once her hair was done, Elizabeth took the book of the War of Wrath and approached Milneth. Her stomach was twisting with guilt but there was no turning back.

“Milneth, may I ask a favor of you? Thranduil, hum, the king really needed this book first thing in the morning. I don’t know really why, something about a council, and I promised I would send it to him, do you mind?”

Milneth looked a bit surprised but took the book readily, and without even checking the title.

“Of course not, my lady. I will give it to him right away,” and with a kind smile, the handmaid hurried upstairs.

Alright, Elizabeth though, time had just started ticking.

The girl made sure the curtain was still closed, and through the mirror she watched Grawel, putting the comb and hair oil away. In that tiny moment, Elizabeth pulled out the Drowse Oil and poured a large amount on the tray handrails and then rubbed it in so that it wouldn’t be noticeable.

As Grawel turned around, Elizabeth put the vial back into her pocket and grabbed her fork. Elizabeth shoved a bit of eggs into her mouth and smiled.

“My lady, did you move the mirror?” Grawel asked her, sitting in front of her.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. She had been planning to mention something about it for her plan to work, but this was even better. Elizabeth made a face as if she had just remembered something.

“I did, yes,” the girl told Grawel, with a smile, standing up. “In the night I tried to move the mirror and almost fell onto me, and now it’s on the way. Gildor?”

“Yes, my lady?” The guard’s voice asked from behind the curtain.

“Can you come in please? I need a quick favor.”

The guard came in and looked at Elizabeth, his hands grabbing his belt.

“What can I do for you, my lady?”

“Would you mind pushing the mirror back to the wall? It is too heavy for me.”

“Of course not, my lady.”

Gildor smiled at Elizabeth and then grabbed the mirror by the base and lifted it carefully. Then he backed it to the wall slowly to not damage it.

Elizabeth glanced at Grawel, and when she saw she was busy watching Gildor, she sat down and reached for her cup on the tray and knocked it on the bed.

“Oh, no!” Elizabeth exclaimed, as the water spilled on the bed, making a mess.

“Don’t worry, my lady,” Grawel said, grabbing the empty cup, and the tray and standing up. “I’ll change the sheets, right away.”

But the noise of the mirror placed back down on the floor rather aggressively, made Grawel and Elizabeth looked back at Gildor. The mirror didn’t break, but the guard was on his knees.

“Gildor, are you alright?” Grawel asked concerned, and just then the guard fell unconscious to the floor.

Grawel turned to Elizabeth worried but then, the she-elf collapsed back on the bed with the tray unconscious.

Elizabeth’s heart was thumping, and her hands were sweating due to the fur of the gloves and her nerves. Trying to stop her hands from shaking, Elizabeth grabbed an orange from her fruit bowl and poured oil on the skin and rubbed it in. Then wiped the excess on the bedsheets.

She then walked to the cell door, and opened the curtain enough to see outside, but making sure, neither Grawel nor Gildor could be seen.

Elizabeth bit her lip, her whole body trembling as she waited for Ehorir. She knew his schedule to a t, and he should be here already from his patrol… So where was he? Why was he late? Elizabeth knew this was a gigantic palace with many stairs and corridors, but she couldn’t tell how fast Milneth would reach Thranduil. If she did and he was knocked down by the oil while she was still here with another two unconscious elves… And she wasn’t even sure how long it would last… What if the effects passed faster on elves…

Elizabeth was about to throw up of nerves when she finally heard footsteps. She smiled trying to look sweet and calm, rather than the guilty mess of nerves she was, and prayed it was Ehorir and not another guard…

The footsteps never seemed slower, but finally the blonde elf appeared and Elizabeth both felt relief and stress.

“Morning,” Ehorir greeted her, approaching the cell.

“Hi,” Elizabeth’s voice was higher and awkward. The girl blushed and she quickly handed him the orange.

Ehorir raised an eyebrow and took the orange looking at her.

“Are you alright? You are too pale this morning,” he said, looking at her concerned.

 Elizabeth kicked herself trying to calm down, but she just then stood too stiff and straight.

“I’m fine, just a bit cold. It’s too cold this morning, don’t you think?” Elizabeth started to rant as Ehorir started peeling the orange, still looking at her puzzled.

“Uh, I guess… Wait, this smells strangely,” the guard looked down at the orange, frowning.

Elizabeth’s hands started to sweat even more.

“Is it bad? Do you want another? I’ll fetch it for you. Or do you want another fruit,” She quickly asked, trying to distract him.

“It smells like Lorathel,” Ehorir said looking up at Elizabeth who tried her best to look confused but failed.

The guard glanced to the side and noticed the cell door was still open. He turned to Elizabeth, anger and betrayal showing in his face.

“What did you…?”

But the effects of the oil must have hit him then, because he bent over. Ehorir grabbed onto the cell bar to stay upright but his body was too heavy and soon he dropped to the ground, the orange escaping his grasp.

Elizabeth stood there for a moment, the glare Ehorir had given her imprinted in her mind. When he woke up, he was going to hate her, just like Thranduil.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and pushed her guilt to the back of her mind. It was now or never. She carefully took her gloves off and placed them back on the trunk, grabbing the two silver diadems Thranduil had given her and placing them in her pocket. She grabbed the set of keys from Gildor’s belt and filled her pillowcase with the rest of the fruit on the bowl as provisions from her journey. Then she untied Grawel’s forest green handmaid cloak and pulled it on her. And lastly, she grabbed the high heels she had been wearing when she arrived at Middle Earth. They would give them the extra height she would need to pass for a handmaid.

Elizabeth then pulled the hood of the cloak on and walked out the cell. The girl carefully pulled the door behind her just so it would look closed and then walked to the first staircase.

She stopped for a moment. She was terrified of these narrow stairs with no handrails. One false step and she would probably fall to her death. And she couldn’t crawl up, in case someone saw her. No. She would have to climb them up, like nothing, while trying not to look down and in heels, while holding on one hand the pillowcase filled with fruit hidden under the cloak… Good fucking lord… At least she had a wall to lean on a bit.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and closed her hands on fists. She had made it this far.

She stood straight and started going up. She had tried to memorize the way when she was brought down here, and thought she wouldn’t remember, but miraculously, she did. Each turn and stair she remembered.

She had a close encounter though, when a guard confused her with Grawel, but she only half turned her head and raised her arm and continued upstairs. 

Elizabeth walked as fast as possible without drawing attention. It felt like a nerve-wracking eternity but then the twisting corridor ended, and she found herself on the gigantic and open main hall. There the corridors twisted around columns like vines, connecting multiple levels on this maze of a palace. It was also filled with people coming and going, and guards.

However, Elizabeth couldn’t spare much attention for the breathtaking and intimidating hall. She needed to hurry.

The floor plan she had stolen described only the ground floor, but there was marked winding stairs near her that went all the way to top. However, the floor plan didn’t account how different the scale was. In the map, the stairs were close but in here she had to walk several yards.

Elizabeth kept walking along the corridor but still couldn’t find the stairs but then she noticed the throne and how she was approaching it.

Her heart started to beat even harder, if it that was even possible and she started to get dizzy. What if Thranduil wasn’t with his Council…? What if he was there in his throne? Could he see her all the way up there? Could he recognize her…? Her stomach twisted each time more, and she was expecting some sort of alarm to be rung at any moment…  But then she saw the empty throne and found the stairs.

Elizabeth climbed the stairs quickly, almost falling a couple of terrifying times. Her legs ached but she kept pushing them. 

She finally reached the bottom, and when she exited the staircase, she found the ground floor covered in grass with rows of stone, making paths, like a giant indoor garden. Again, Elizabeth had to ignore something she really wanted to admire in order to escape.

She then went to left, looking for the stables. She crossed yet another long corridor but stopped at the end, when she heard voices.

Elizabeth heard, they were two elves talking but they weren’t approaching her. She peered around the corner and saw two elves, probably the stable hands, near the exit that led to the woods, which was opened wide.

The two elves were just talking and laughing, and Elizabeth huffed exasperated and beyond stressed. How could she make them go away? Could she pretend Thranduil, or some noble had called for them? But what if they didn’t recognize her and sounded the alarm… It was a possibility…

While they turned their back on her, Elizabeth crossed the stables, on her toes so her heels wouldn’t make noise, and hid behind the first stable box.

The horse in the box buffed nervously, feeling her nearby. 

Elizabeth placed the pillowcase with the fruit down and peeked from behind the box and saw the men now drinking from a waterskin. Of for goodness’s sake… But then someone outside called them and the elves walked outside…

This was it! This was her chance! Elizabeth located the saddles and quickly made her way to them.

Do you really think he will let you go so easily?

It was the voice. The cold voice from that day. The one she thought had imagined or misheard…

Elizabeth’s hands started to shake, and shivers ran down her spine, making her body feel heavy with fear. But then she heard noises outside the stable and she reminded she had no time to spare. Whatever that voice was, it wouldn’t stop her.

Elizabeth grabbed one of the saddles but then voice returned, louder and colder.

Do not ignore me! I know you can hear me.

Elizabeth almost dropped the saddle.

“Who are you?” She whispered, scared.

I’m a friend. I’ll help you leave this place. Trust me.

Elizabeth shook her head as if the voice could see her.

“I’m almost out,” Elizabeth whispering while crossing with the saddle and putting it on one of the horses.

You can’t leave yet. Not without them. The Earth Stars. You need them. We need them.

Elizabeth frowned now feeling impatience at the voice.

“I don’t know what that is,” the girl said tying the saddle around the horse. “And I’m leaving right now.”

But then, Elizabeth felt as if a bucket of ice water had been thrown on her, chilling her to the bone.

And when she tried to move, she couldn’t. Her hands had stopped shaking, and she stood up. Elizabeth panicked. It was as if she was locked in her own body.

“What is happening?!” Elizabeth screamed but the stables remained in silence. She couldn’t even speak.

I said I’m going to help you, said the cold voice. But first, I need my stars.

And Elizabeth’s body walked back to the corridor, leading to the Main Hall.

“No, we’re going to get caught!” Elizabeth yelled but the voice didn’t listen, and her body kept moving.

Elizabeth didn’t know where the voice was taking her, and she tried to resist, to make her body listen to her, but it was useless. She was nothing but a puppet obeying the strings.

Elizabeth climbed the stairs and went through unknown corridors and then, she found herself on a large corridor with only a large door and stairs leading to it.

“Where are we?” Elizabeth asked apprehensively.

We are on the place where they locked my stairs, the voice replied, and Elizabeth walked forward.

My stars… My stars…

Elizabeth climbed the stairs and opened the large heavy metal door. The light of the corridor hit the large, cavernous room, and Elizabeth saw gold, silver and jewels gleaming.

“Are you mad?! We will never leave if we robbed them!” Elizabeth screamed, but the voice didn’t seem to hear her, it sounded almost delirious.

My stars… MY STARS! GIVE ME MY STARS!

Elizabeth stepped onto the Treasury and the door locked immediately behind her with a thunderous thud.

Elizabeth jumped and gasped at the noise. Then she realized she had regained control over her body, and the voice was gone.

However, the joy lasted her but a fleeting moment. She was sure Thranduil was going to be furious when he found out she had escaped, but thought maybe he could understand if she left to meet Galadriel… but if he found her here of all places!

 Elizabeth tried to open the door but was useless. The door didn’t even creak as Elizabeth threw her whole-body weight at it. However, a loud alarm started to ring.

Elizabeth covered her ears and looked around at the dark room. If not for a few bioluminescent plants on the walls, the room would have been pitch black. However, it was enough light for her to realize that she wasn’t going to escape this place.

It felt like an eternity, locked in that room. The alarm had gone quiet a long time ago. She even had to sit on the ground with her back against a column because the claustrophobia was getting to her.

But then, she heard noises outside the room. It felt like metal clinking, and she knew it was people in armour, guards to be more precise.

Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes. This was it. Would they lock her up forever? Would they accuse her of trying to kill Thranduil? She wondered if he had woken up by now. How would she even face him…?

But then, she heard the door opening and angry footsteps approach.

“I know you are here,” Thranduil’s merciless voice rang across the room. “There’s no way out. Come out now!”

Elizabeth froze for a moment. She had never heard Thranduil that angry. She knew she would have to see him at some point and explain, but she didn’t expect him to be the one to find her here. Would he even hear her out…?

Elizabeth took a deep breath, stood up, and walked from behind the column.

Thranduil’s face was twisted in anger, and his blue eyes were cold as they glared at her with contempt.

“Thranduil, I can explain—”

“I don’t care to listen to any more tales,” he spat, furious.

Elizabeth’s heart broke at the look he gave her. She knew she deserved it, but it still hurt.

“I was going to Lothlórien,” Elizabeth told him quickly. She knew he wouldn’t want to listen to her, but if there was a slight chance he might, she needed to act quickly. “I was in the stables when I heard this voice—”

“ENOUGH!”

His voice echoed in the room and Elizabeth winced, taken aback.

“I had enough of your lies!” Thranduil glared down at her, his hands shaking. “You will wait in a cell until Galadriel arrives, then you will leave and will never step a foot on my kingdom again!”

Then, with a last glare full of hatred, the Elven King turned and went to the door.

“I’m really sorry,” Elizabeth’s voice cracked, a tear rolling down her cheek. But if he heard her, he didn’t stop. He left her alone in the dark until his guards came in for her.

Elizabeth didn’t resist or try to run. The guards didn’t even need to hold her. She just followed them back to the dungeons.

The girl had expected to be put in a tiny, dark cell. Thranduil’s anger was a terrifying thing, something she hoped she hadn’t unleashed. But Elizabeth was yet again surprised when the guards took her to her old cell.

However, they took the books she had, the ink, quills and parchment she had requested, and told her the only time the curtain was allowed to be closed was once in the morning and once at night for her to be changed. A female guard also patted her down and confiscated the things she had in her pockets.

Elizabeth then sat down and took off her heels, kicking them to the other side of the room. Her feet were swollen, with two painful blisters—one of them bleeding. The girl ignored them and lay on the bed on her side, facing the wall of the cell. And with her face hidden, she broke down and cried.

“I’m really sorry,” Elizabeth had told him, as if that just justified everything. As if it was real. She was just sorry she was caught. His angry musings were interrupted by a knock on his door.

“Come in,” his still angry voice said.

The captain of his guard entered with a bow.

“Here are all the effects the girl was carrying, my lord, as ordered.”

The captain placed a wooden box on Thranduil’s desk, and the king approached. Thranduil looked inside the box. There was a small crystal vial of nearly empty Drowse Oil, a set of heavy keys—Gildor’s probably—, a crumpled up floor plan, and—what felt like a gut punch—, the two silver diadems he had gifted her, and the flower he had placed on her hair just yesterday.

“The human used quite a lot of Drowse Oil. Milneth assured me the vial was new when she gave it to the girl,” said the captain.

“Are the guards and the handmaiden still in the Infirmary?” Thranduil asked him, still glaring at the flower.

“Yes, but one of the guards has woken up.”

Thranduil nodded and then reached for one of the diadems. It was made to resemble vines, with thin and delicate strands of twisted metal, with a pear-shaped pearl hanging from it. He had chosen this for her after she had mentioned her fondness for pearls in one of her rambles… Stupid fool, he cursed himself.

“Did she say why she took these with her?” Thranduil asked.

“Apparently, she was going to sell them if she ran out of supplies for her trip to see Lady Galadriel—”

“She lies,” Thranduil spat, dropping the diadem on the box. “She’s a thief. She was probably going to sell them to the highest bidder.”

He then reached for the flower and crushed it in his hand as his captain watched, unsure.

“My lord?”

“Return the floor plan, the keys and the vial,” Thranduil ordered, forcing his voice to sound nonchalant and cold as always.

“And the jewellery, my lord?”

“Leave them here,” Thranduil said, clasping his hands behind his back, and turning around from his captain. “I’ll have a smith melt them down and repurpose them.”

The captain placed the diadems on Thranduil’s desk and, making a bow his king didn’t see, he left him alone.

When he heard the door closing, Thranduil looked over his shoulder to make sure he was alone. Then, he opened his right fist, where the flower lay.

It was an old and magical tree, so despite his strength, the flower wasn’t destroyed. Only one of its petals had crumpled. Thranduil saw its shine as the sunlight from the window hit it and he remembered that day. How happy she had seemed, how she had praised the beauty of his kingdom… all lies to deceive him… Thranduil wanted to take the flower and diadems and burn them, destroy them. He didn’t want a reminder of her near him… yet, glaring at the offending objects and hating himself, he instead opened a drawer on his desk where a similar flower lay—this one intact. A flower Elizabeth had placed on his cloak just yesterday…

Thranduil placed the diadems and the crumpled flower in there and locked the drawer, swearing he was going to destroy them once he found the time.

After her escape attempt, Thranduil wasn’t the only one furious at Elizabeth. Grawel, Gildor and Ehorir were still recovering from the effects of the oil and were replaced by two guards and one handmaid who refused to speak to Elizabeth beyond what was necessary. And when they looked at her, they glared, hatred clear in their eyes. And she wasn’t paranoid. She knew as much. Milneth had been very clear with her.

The day after her escape attempt, when Elizabeth saw Milneth, she knew she had to apologize. Elizabeth had deceived her, and she hadn’t deserved it. Milneth and Grawel had been nothing but sweet and kind towards Elizabeth.

“Milneth…”

“My lady,” Milneth replied, her voice cold as ice. She didn’t even look at Elizabeth.

“I-I want to apologize,” Elizabeth said, and looked at Milneth but she didn’t turn. She just placed Elizabeth’s breakfast down. 

“What I did was wrong,” Elizabeth continued. Seeing her friend refuse to even look at her felt like a hand slowly and painfully crushing her heart. “I shouldn’t have deceive you, and I really didn’t want to. I just needed to get out and go home. I never intended to hurt you—”

“And what about Grawel, or Gildor, or Ehorir?!” Milneth spat, turning around to see her, her eyes cold and angry. “Did you think about them?”

“I-I did! I do! That’s why I asked for something to make them sleep. I didn’t want to hurt them.”

Milneth glared at Elizabeth.

“I told you one drop was enough!” Milneth snapped furious. “That more could be dangerous and yet you almost emptied the bottle! And Ehorir, who knows what would have happened if he had ingested it! You could have killed him!”

Elizabeth clasped a hand over her mouth horrified, her eyes wide open.

“I-I didn’t know!” Elizabeth told Milneth desperately, her eyes filling with tears. “You said it was dangerous for humans! I thought it would be alright for elves, and I would never let him eat it, please, you have to believe me.”

“Believe you?! You made a fool out of me, even of the King! He thought I had helped you, did you know that?” Milneth spat, pointing at her accusatory. “He thought I had tried to poison him under your orders!”

Each revelation felt like a blow and Elizabeth felt more and more desperate and guilty.

“What? No! I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him you didn’t know—”

“Please! He wouldn’t listen—let alone receive you now! He’s furious with everyone and is making our lives harder. And it’s all because of you! So just do everyone a favor and do not talk to us. Everyone in this kingdom hates you!”

And with that Milneth left her cell. The new guard locked the door behind her, glaring at Elizabeth between the bars.

Elizabeth sat down and looked at the tray next to her. She almost expected to see a moldy bread and dirty water, but no. The food looked as delicious and well-prepared as always, which only made her feel worse.

The girl moved the tray to the bedside table and lay down, facing the wall again. Elizabeth closed her eyes and wished she could just go back in time and do things differently. If only she had known that the voice would come back and ruin everything…

Time passed more slowly over the next few days. Without books or Thranduil to keep her company, Elizabeth just passed the time lying on the bed, calculating time by how often the guards outside her door went on patrol, or how often Milneth and the other handmaid brought her meals that would go mostly untouched. 

And then, five days after her failed escape, Milneth came back around noon and, without looking at Elizabeth, announced:

“Lady Galadriel has arrived. The King is expecting you.”