#i wish i could rot in bed and never be perceived again. it's all utter agony. i want to cry but i'm so drained i can't even do that

[seapasture]

everything seems to be a trigger for my ocd and bpd at the moment :( the thought of even being known by another person is more than I can bear

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Return Her pt. 2

The Company (and friends) x Reader

Not being from Middle Earth has brought you some amazing moments, but this should’ve been expected.

Now you have an unwanted audience with the king, and he wants to know everything.

A great deal of frustration comes with talking to the King of Mirkwood.

He always speaks down to you, condescendingly, while carrying himself like he’s the most important person in the room at every given time. Personally, you don’t see the appeal. 

You’re standing on the ground a few paces in front of said king while he stands at the beginning of the steps to his throne.

For a while all he does is stare, taking in your unusual appearance (mostly the clothes, you’re in jeans after all) and the brightly colored backpack hanging from your shoulders. His hands are behind his back much like when he was speaking with Thorin, his scrutinizing gaze making you feel uncomfortable and vulnerable. 

“It is very interesting… I’ve never seen garments like yours before, not even in my own imagination. And your bag? Unheard of. So do tell me, where are you really from? Because a creature such as yourself, speaking as you do, is in no way from Middle Earth.” His little monologue was well thought out you had to admit.

Nothing escapes his keen eyes and ears, and you find yourself at a loss for words. There is no lie you could conjure up from your limited knowledge of this place that would convince him of anything, so instead you choose to hold your tongue. 

You can see your silence annoys him from the change in expression on his face, so he takes a step forward to intimidate you with his obviously larger size and broad shoulders. His gaze is intense, but you will yourself to maintain eye contact despite your waning resolve. 

There’s another long stretch of silence and then he steps forward with another long stride.

You tilt your head up a bit to look at him better, attempting to keep your face as it was before. You aren’t scared per-say, but you are intimidated. And you know that he can tell.

“Speak.” He hisses to you, tapping his foot lightly against the ground.

For a few moments you make no effort to speak, then you drawl out lazily despite how unnerved you are. “I have nothing to say to you.“ 

His jaw sets tightly as clear frustration shows on his face. His hand shoots up before you can even blink to grab your jaw harshly, pulling your face in close. "You will tell me what I want to know, or your dwarves will rot in their cages.”

You can’t stop yourself from whimpering at the bruising grasp on your face, but you meet his eyes defiantly regardless, and it seems to successfully piss him off.

“I have been patient, but you will tell me what I want to know, one way or another.” His hand drops from your face, but he doesn’t move to step back.

So you do that for him, crossing your arms over your chest, “I don’t have to tell you anything!" 

He stands there for a minute, anger radiating off of his entire being. The king turns away from you, hands still behind his back, as he stares out to the twisting roots that make up his kingdom probably in an attempt to calm himself down. "All I ask is where you are from. It is a simple question.”

You huff in frustration, then shoot back, “I’ve already told you, I won’t ta-” You’re cut off abruptly by a loud resounding smack echoing out around you. Your head snaps to the side and a burning pain blossoms on your right cheek.

You hand goes up instinctively to gently hold the side of your face, eyes wide from shock. “Fuck you!” You yell at him, turning away.

Taking a few steps forward you move to leave, but he grabs your arms and yanks you back into his chest.

“Answer my questions and you will return to your friends." Even after he hit you, he still kept his voice even (with traces of anger).

You stomp down on his foot a couple times, but it doesn’t effect him like you had hoped it would. Instead, his grip on your arms tightens and you feel the beginnings of bruises forming beneath his sharp fingers. 

Where does this bitch get the time to do his nails?

He pushes you down to the ground and looms over you, the glower on his face making an uncontrollable shudder pass through you. "Those dwarves do not care for you. The riches they want? As soon as they have it, you will be cast aside, and left to die hundreds of years before them. None of them will care, or even flinch if something were to happen to you. I simply want to know about you and you keep denying me.”

You can tell he isn’t used to being told no; which is probably the source of his uncontrollable anger.

“He told me not to tell you anything, and I won’t!” Tears blur your vision at his harsh words, but you refuse to let yourself cry even with the horrible burning of your arms and cheek trying to coax the tears out of you. 

Thranduil almost felt impressed with your tenacity, but your determined expression hasn’t changed and your refusal to give into him is what really spurs him on.

He crouches down next to you and reaches out to lightly press his hand to your cheek, seeming much more tender and soft than before. “I know you’re not from here, and I need to know why and where. That’s it. Nothing more, and nothing less. Tell me this and I’ll let you return to your friends." 

The request is simple, and you know he’s already aware that the way you got here is far from natural, but it feels like a betrayal to even do that much. You haven’t done much to help the group as of yet, so the least you can do is endure this situation.

"Why don’t you just let them go? I can do what you ask if you let us leave." 

His expression hardens again, but his touch doesn’t become harsh like before, "You’re not in any position to be making demands, girl. All I want to know is why someone from another world is before me with 13 dwarves. It is not a hard thing to answer, and I’ll hardly learn a thing from it." 

You jerk your head back and scoot away as far as you can.

He lowers his hand slowly, staring you down intensely as all signs of kindness leave his face. "Perhaps I should send one of my guards to tell them you’ve told me everything. Tell them that you’ve decided to stay here with me and even shared my bed. And after your image is ruined for them, I’ll let all of you go and throw you out and leave you at their mercy. I’m sure you know of how much they hate us after all.”

You eyes widen from horror at his words, shocked that he would even threaten such a foul thing. 

“Y-You wouldn’t! They wouldn’t be dumb enough to fall for the lies of a stupid elf like you.” You’re surprised that you manage to keep your voice so even, but his expression doesn’t change despite this.

“I will. Or you can tell me what I want to know.” He repeats yet again. 

And you find that you have to comply this time. Even if you’re sure they know how loyal you are to them, you can’t stand the thought of such a thing being uttered to them, nor do you want to even entertain the idea of anyone actually believing it. You take a deep breath and wipe your wet cheeks, mumbling softly,“…Fine." 

The king almost seems surprised when you finally submit. He’s mostly shocked that you care so much about how they perceive you, how none of his threats or battering managed to sway you but a simple promise to slander your character turned you in mere seconds. 

He gets up after that and folds his hands behind his back again, "Go on." 

And you do. 

You spill everything about where you’re from to him, about what you do and what you plan to do, how you got there, and he simply listens along. And when you finally finish your rather unbelievable tale, he heaves a heavy sigh. 

The look on his face makes your heart drop, and you realize he no longer has any intention of fulfilling his promise. 

"Well… now that I know this, there’s no way I can let you return to them…” He heaves a heavy sigh after saying that, looking out at the twisting roots and huge trees once more, “Such an important piece to their game in my hands? I can’t pass up such an opportunity, I’m sure something like you could only bring me fortune and luck.” He speaks as if you’re some sort of magical item or accessory they carry around. 

You get to your feet and protest immediately, “W-What do you mean? You said I could go back! You promised I’d be allowed to return to them!” You find yourself pleading with him now to go back, eyes wide with a sad expression on your face.

Surprisingly enough he finds himself almost wanting to comply with your wishes, but he has his mind made up. 

He turns away from you again and walks ahead a few paces. “You really do care for them… it is peculiar…” he trails off for a few moments before turning his head over his shoulder to look at you, “You will get your own cell for the time being until I can prepare you your own room. Don’t get comfortable.” He gestures towards you and then heads back up the steps, his steely gaze not meeting your relieved eyes again. “Take her away." 

You don’t bother fighting the tall elf that escorts you to the cells, for two reasons. One, you’re eager to return to your friends, and two, despite the fact that it’s captivity you’re being brought to, anywhere is better than being under the scrutinizing gaze of the Elf-King.

When you enter the dimly lit dungeons you find yourself searching for anyone or thing that may be familiar, but you find that it’s hard to see into the cells and the red-headed elf and blond one from before aren’t anywhere around. 

The distinct voice of Kili calls your name suddenly, and you turn towards the sound to just catch a glimpse of something familiar.

A small smile makes it way to your face, though it’s a bit painful because of the swelling on your cheek. You can see his face through the bars, but once he gets a good look at you his smile drains away from his face.

”What happened?!“ Thorin yells a cell away from where you’re taken too.

You’re nudged in a bit harsher than necessary, and then the door is closed and locked without hesitation on the guards part. 

When you stand in front of the prison door and look out at the cells before you, you see the majority of your friends pressing their faces through the bars to get a peek at you.

"What did that freak do to her?” Someone asks in the cell next to yours, though you can’t see who it is. 

“Did you see her arms?” Someone else calls. 

Thorin then repeats, “What happened? What did he want with you?”

A long, weary sigh leaves your lips as you look at the swollen skin and claw marks caused by his harsh grip and sharp fingers. “He was asking about my home and why I was here…” you trail off after a few moments. 

“Did you tell him anything?” Thorin presses, and you find yourself feeling ashamed. 

“I-I didn’t want to! Thorin I’m sorry, but I had to tell him what I knew! He was very cruel, and he was threatening to-” You cut yourself off quickly, dipping your head down as your knuckles turned white from your grip on the bars. Discussing the things said to you isn’t really something you want to do right now. 

Thorin’s expression softens almost immediately when he sees how distressed you are over it.

“Threatening to do what?” His oldest nephew pipes up after a few moments, his tone voicing the concerns that everyone else had for you. 

You sign shakily and drop your arms, sitting down against the wall next to the door. “Nothing… I’m sorry… I really tried to keep quiet but he knew exactly how to get under my skin…" 

There is an unbearable silence for a few moments there, and then Thorin speaks up again. "I am not upset, Y/N. None of us are. Just tell us what he did.”

You feel yourself relax at his assurance, but still you don’t want to discuss any of that. “No… m-maybe later. I just need a bit to sit and think, okay?” You pause after saying that and add, “Though… I suppose I won’t have much time to do that." 

"What do you mean?” Ori asks in his usual soft voice. 

“The king has ordered that I be taken to a separate location. He said something about me bringing him luck or something…" 

When you tell them this outrage beaks out amongst the dwarves. Dwalin begins yelling multiple curses, Ori whimpers in the cell next to you, Fili and Kili yell about how they wont let that happen etc, but Thorin stays quiet until the yelling dies down.

After most of the shouts have ended and everyone is quiet, he speaks calmly to you, "We won’t let that happen… so please, do not worry yourself.. I’m sure master Baggins is taking care of the issue right away." 

You nod your head quickly at his words, feeling rather hopeful that what he says is true. A small smile makes its way to your face, then you press your knees to your chest. "You know I trust you.." 

—

You’re not sure how much time passes between then and now, a few hours maybe, but eventually the lot of you stopped all the blabbering and quieted. 

From what you could tell a majority of the dwarves are either resting, sitting idly, or speaking in hushed whispers with their cellmates/cell neighbors, and you’re apart of the middle group. 

You’re seated right next to the gate with your head leaning back against the stone wall and closed eyes when the light is suddenly blocked. 

One of your eyes flutters open and you’re met with the sight of the same red-headed she-elf from before. 

She’s staring down at you with an expression you can’t quite read, but you don’t ask about it and instead stand up and ask quietly (so you don’t bother the others), "What are you doing over here?" 

When you step out into the light her gaze flickers from your swollen cheek to your bruised arms, then back up to your face again. Her eyebrows furrow together and, instead of answering your question, she asks, "Did King Thranduil do that to you?” Her voice holds concern and no little amount of surprise. 

You grimace, glancing down at your arms before looking back up at her, “I’m afraid so." 

"I am sorry.” She finds herself speaking without thought, feeling guilty almost, “That shouldn’t have happened, you didn’t do anything wrong…" 

"No, you don’t have to say sorry. I’m fine…,” you trail off, then add a bit more slyly, “Besides, I’m a prisoner in your dungeons." 

If you hadn’t been smirking she probably would’ve thought you were upset, but she allows herself to smile slightly and steps closer to the bars, "They’re hardly my dungeons, though I am the Captain of the Guard." 

You smile this time (albeit painfully since the movement hurts your face) looking up at her with amusement sparkling in your eyes, "Captain of the guard? Wow, beautiful and impressive." 

Pink tints her pale cheeks as she laughs softly, leaning down slightly to see your face better, "You’re such a forward little thing, a complete charmer." 

"Charmer? No, my dear I just call it as I see it.” Yeah you definitely are a charmer. 

She laughs again and her eyes flicker back down to your arms, the smile dissipating from her face right away. “Here, let me see.” She states suddenly, holding her hand out to you. 

At first you don’t quite get what she means, but then you notice where she’s looking and understand. 

“N-No, you don’t have to-”

“Just do it.” She cuts off, smiling at you reassuringly since she seems to sense your hesitation. 

Despite your urge to argue further, you reach through the bars with both arms and turn them palm-face up. “Like this?”

She nods her head and places her hands beneath both your elbows, observing the darkened and irritated skin of your upper arms. 

A few beats of silence pass with her holding your arms and looking at you before she finally speaks, “Well, you will be glad to know that they aren’t too bad. These should heal in a weeks time I’m sure." 

You nod your head and return your arms to your sides when she lets you go, but instead of leaving it at that, she reaches through the cell door and places her fingertips under your chin, lifting your head. 

She turns it left and right, then tilts your chin up, "This one isn’t so bad either, though it will take a bit longer to recover.” Slowly she trails her fingers up the good side of your face, her touch feather soft and tender, “It’s a shame, you’re very pretty." 

And queue the blush. 

Your face goes warm at her compliment and you begin to stutter as your brain goes into panic mode. "P-Pretty? M… M-Me?” You just barely manage to stammer out, pointing at yourself lamely. 

Once more she begins to laugh as she retracts her hand, “You certainly can give compliments, but it seems you are not familiar with receiving them." 

"Well…,” before you finish that thought you realize something. “Oh! I haven’t even asked your name." 

"Tauriel.” She states warmly, “And what is yours?" 

"My name is Y/N.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” She replies. 

Gosh she’s so lovely. 

“No, the pleasure is all mine.” You begin to flirt again, really it’s just so easy to do with her, and then say a bit quieter, “Thank you for looking over my bruises…”

Her humored expression becomes a bit softer at your thanks, and she replies just as quietly, “No need for gratitude. You didn’t deserve that." 

"Tauriel!” Someone yells suddenly. 

Said she-elf turns quickly on her heel, looking up the stone stairs at the blond elf who brought you to the king before. 

“Legolas.” She replies slightly nervously, glancing back at you. 

They exchange a few words in their Elvish language, the male elf glancing over at you a few times, before she turns and walks off. 

As Tauriel passes by she smiles slightly and says, “Goodbye, Y/N. I hope we can speak again." 

And then she’s gone. 

The blond elf approaches your confinements and looks down at you, "I apologize for my fathers treatment of you." 

Your eyebrows furrow and you look at him weirdly, "And you are…?" 

"Legolas, son of Thranduil, the king." 

Oh shit, you didn’t even realize. 

"I’m afraid I must go, though I wanted to tell you as much before leaving." 

You nod your head and smile up at him gratefully, "Thank you." 

And then he’s gone too. 

Gosh, where the fuck is Bilbo.