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|Unveiled Mask|
 "Lesley Surin... I confess, I nearly missed the connection, Lesley is such a common name, don't you think? You must feel at home with..those companions of yours down there."
King Thranduil's greeting to the woman was hardly such, he felt he was above such formalities to others even if he held the standard to those who dared speak to him. Lesley Surin and the company of Thorin Oakenshield had been taken captive by the elves of the Woodland Realm after their skirmish with giant and poisonous spiders, the children of Ungoliant had weakened the company considerably so the poor dwarves had little fight left to give to the elves. Lesley, being the only woman of the company, was feeling her nerves at their greatest standing in front of the King of Mirkwood, who had summoned her to come from her captive place to the throne room. It had been what she had dreaded most of all when she had realized they had trespassed onto elven ground, she had practically buried herself within the shadows in the back of her cage, but it had done nothing to prevent being recognized, she could only hope that the company that sat in their own prison cells had not been told of her origins.
Thranduil looked over to Lesley, his expression that of snide and obvious amusement while still obtaining the grace and elegance he was so used to showing in his regal status. Coming down the stairs as he stood from his chair he stared at the huntress with almost a curiosity to his eyes, studying her for a moment before speaking again as if he had expected an answer from her that didn't come. "Hm, just as stubborn as ever, I see. I personally am glad to see it, though foolish it may be. It just strengthens my opinion of them. Your dear dwarven 'King' has no notion to relent my gems to me, and for that he has condemned his little band of dwarves to my prison, possibly for the rest of their lives, but you.... You, Lesley, are not of their kind, not lost to their ways. I can help you."
To Lesley, Thranduil's intentions were clear, to let her go under the pretext that she help him gain the jewels back from Erebor, without knowledge of the mountain he had no hope to safely claim them should the dragon be still alive. And without Thorin to stop her Thranduil hoped that she might sneak into the halls and find the gems, but Lesley's eyes fixed on the elven king with an almost sickening glare, finally finding her voice as she spoke to him with a deep and menacing tone. "I am of their kind enough to acknowledge your treachery, Thranduil. You'll not have me as your servant, not for my breath of life." To this answer the king blinked his shining eyes with an heir of surprise and curiosity. "You would deny your kind for the sake of the creatures that sit in the dungeons below?"
"I would deny you for a cup of water when I've had two before. You who betrayed my people, my home. You denied them safety and aid, I deny you my help and my trust." Lesley sneered with these words as if to spit them at him, to which Thranduil almost gave a chuckle of amusement before approaching the maiden again. Standing close he reached his hand upwards towards her face, Lesley made to strike it away but the guards close by were quick to restrain her. Thranduil paused, a grin on his pale and long features evident that he knew, the others below had yet to discover...
"I wonder what your cherished company thinks of having you in their little quest. How they must feel promising a share of their treasure to you, one of what they despise the most." In these whispered words Thranduil brushed her hair back, admiring the pointed ear that was hidden. He stood back with his shoulders high, his voice stronger with a raised chin. "You're of our kind, Lesley. You cannot hide it forever, and those fools will abandon you for the gold and riches you desire to gain." His voice held a menacing slyness, and Lesley was unaware that their conversation was overheard by the leader of the company, by the Elvenking's design.
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