so the first part of this story is just the prologue, it's super short, sorry! I promise that the upcoming chapters will me much longer, and I'm totally open to new ideas and hope that you enjoy and review. This is my first Hobbit/LOTR Fanfiction, and I'm currently reading the books. Thanks for taking a look! ;)

Prologue

...

Thranduil paced impatiently across the floor of his throne room, dreading the moment when the palace doors would open to allow the betrothed Princess to enter...and reside. His hands curled and tightened into fists as he attempted to calmly lace them behind his slender frame. He didn't approve of this betrothal, and yet he had felt obligated to give his precious son away to a woman whom he had seen but once, all in order to continue the treaty of peace between himself and Gladeriel.

'It was a duty, not my personal decision, and it was crucial to the safety of the kingdom,' his thoughts repeated somewhat calmly over and over again.

There was a heavy round of knocking that came upon the doors to the throne room, and Thranduil took a deep breath, preparing himself. This sequence
of knocking had been a code, a warning, of the princess's arrival. He had barely begun to breathe steadily when the doors swung wide open revealing the betrothed princess, with her servants and maids in tow.

Princess Amarinda, daughter of Gladeriel was indeed as beautiful and elegant as her kindred described her, and perhaps even more so in person. Her chocolate brown locks cascaded flawlessly around her pale white face, which brought out the unnatural emerald green color of her striking eyes. A faint rosy red blush gave her the innocence of but an elfling, though she held herself in stature as that of a queen. Thranduil was thoroughly impressed.

"Welcome, Princess Amarinda, daughter of Gladeriel to Mirkwood, your new home...!" Thanduil exclaimed, forcing a smile as he gestured elegantly to the throne room. The princess nodded in response and turned politely to converse with one of her servants the details of her stay. Thranduil waited calmly during their discussion and looked over the audience which the princess had arrived with.

There were the required set number of guards to escort her from her home to Mirkwood, a generous amount of maids, a butler, and what seemed to be the lady in waiting, seeing as she seemed to be entrusted with a fine amount of duties and responsibilities, this being suggested by her regal garments, and posture she upheld. She had been the first to kneel as they had come into the throne room. This suggested to Thranduil that she might also have been the most loyal to the princess of her audience, and yet obviously the youngest. He thought that her age could range from only about three hundred to maybe four. He attempted to look a bit more closely, yet was deprived the opportunity when he saw that her face was covered with a sheer, pale green shawl, as were the other maids. Thranduil could understand this, for today was to be about the princess, not her servants. And yet for some strange reason he still longed to peer upon her face.

Quickly Thranduil's eyes flickered back onto the still conversing princess and then over her shoulder to the kneeling slave elf. In a commanding voice, he ordered, "Rise girl, remove your shawl, and state your name."

The princess's eyes flew onto her lady in waiting who stood uncertainly, as she was not used to being addressed. With a pair of slightly trembling hands, she removed the shawl from her face and looked back up to the King, and in as strong a voice as she could muster replied, "Kyleth, m-my lord."

Thranduil gracefully clasped his hand behind his back and stalked in a circular pattern around her, observing her.

Her light blonde hair, barely a shade darker than Thranduil's was curled and pinned back into an elegant bun. Her face was a stark pale white, yet was slightly colored due to a layer of makeup to cover up the girl's almost ghostly white skin. She had a natural pink blush that seemed to lighten her pale appearance. Her face glimmered faintly in the light such as porcelain, and was clear of any blemishes, such as all elves. Her eyes caught Thranduil most off-guard, for they were such a light blue they looked almost grey but with a faint sparkle. She was naturally beautiful, and yet she was small for an elf, perhaps a mere five feet and four inches tall, and she seemed to believe it even more as the elven King encircled her, towering over her small frame.

She seemed innocent, and loyal to her master, and yet Thranduil had in mind to test that loyalty to her.

"Tell me," he cooed, beckoning to the throne room with his right hand. "How do you see my kingdom?"

The princess lightly coughed and shot a hard, cold, stare to her lady in waiting when the girl turned to her. Kyleth swallowed hard and carefully met the gazeof the elven King. His ambiguous blue eyes seemed to dare her to attempt to lie.

"It is so very beautiful..." She said cautiously, her voice sounding almost too sweet as she felt influenced by her master to deny her true feelings. "It is like a sun ray...just barely parting over the western shores...and it is such an honor to be here...in your prescience..." Thranduil felt his lips turn up into the faintest hint of a smile. He turned to the princess and said gently, "My guards will show you to your quarters, we will meet again soon for supper...but I would like a word with your...lady in waiting..." Not wanting to offend the young elf, Thranduil had carefully chosen the words he had uttered.

The princess nodded and smiled in return, and yet as she was escorted from the room, she sent a cold, deadly glare to her said servant girl causing her to flinch. Thranduil saw this and simply but raised an eyebrow as the doors closed behind her, leaving him and Kyleth in solitude.

Kyleth warily met the king's gaze and uttered with a trembling voice, "Y-Yes my ki-"

"I do not tolerate liars!" Thranduil snapped. "So it would be in your best interest to skip your duties and come out with the truth..." He paused a moment to let his words sink in, for he had a way of always getting exactly what he wanted. "Tell me...how do you see your master?"

Kyleth stood uncertainly for a moment, taken aback by the sudden outburst from the king, but she leisurely gained her courage to speak again, and in the elven tounge replied, "I see her as a kind, noble woman...at times...when likes to be...and yet at others...she isn't always what she seems to be..." A look of fear suddenly flickered in Kyleth's pale blue eyes and she looked worriedly back up at Thranduil. "Y-you wouldn't tell this to her...would you?"

Thranduil chuckled darkly and strode forward, but a foot away.

"It shall be our little secret," He whispered softly, and then gestured for her to leave. "Goodnight, my dear."

Kyleth nodded and replied as she turned to leave, "Goodnight, my king." And yet she turned back to face a surprised Thranduil.

Timidly, she began, "My King, to answer your previous question...truthfully...there is beauty in your kingdom...yet alas...you do not share it with the world...I feel that eventually the beauty of Mirkwood might fade away into the carefully crafted forests from whence it was born, and thus hidden...I wish...it were out in the open...for all to see...and not contained...for then, and only then, this beauty, this magic, it could be shared with the world..."

Kyleth looked up into the King's stunned gaze, and then almost as quickly turned away, unable to meet his eyes. "Forgive me..." She hurriedly left the throne room, leaving a very perplexed, and yet intrigued Thranduil.