Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I only own Caran, and maybe a few random Elves and "the thing." Legolas, Thranduil, and most other characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, wheras Shiara, Linel, and Galier belong to Dragonfire-sama, who has graciously let me use them. Arigatou!! ^.^

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It is told that in the forests of Mirkwood, at the beginning of the Fourth Age, there was a great ruler by the name of King Legolas Greenleaf. Legolas had earned his fame during the War of the Ring, a member of the Fellowship itself. To the Fellowship of the Ring Legolas brought Elven skill in archery and tracking, and indeed, he was a valuable asset to the Company.

However, after maintaining the peace of Mirkwood for many a year, Legolas Greenleaf at last went to the Gray Havens to sail off unto the Undying Lands, forever in peace with those of his kind, and his dear Dwarf-friend Gimli, and his wife of endless beauty.

But, left behind was his daughter, now grown well and wise to rule the Silvan land of Mirkwood in her father's stead. Caran Greenleaf became as wise and feared a ruler as her father, if not more so, as skilled in tracking and archery as any male of her kind.

Yet, though 'twas perhaps not a predominate question on the Elves' fair minds, they did wonder: Why had the Wise King Legolas of the Fellowship choosen the name Caran for his only heir? It had once been quite a common name, meaning only a common color, nothing noble or brave about it.

Yet finally, as the winds of the question reached the keen ears of the ancient Elf Galier, the Elves of Mirkwood would have their answer to their petty question at last. In the days of old, before the Fellowship, when the Old King Legolas had been still young, yet no longer a child; When he and his wife were not yet married, nor even betrothed, but the greatest of friends in a group of two other Elves, there had been an Elven girl. The girl was quite young, five hundred years old at the eldest, still a child. But oh! She had a wit about her! And the Elven girl with burgundy locks and e'er sparkling eyes would cease little in her undying quest for mischief -and adventure. In the Elven Prince Legolas and his first Company of Friends she found a place to confide, away from the stern gaze of her far elders and, in their own firm-set minds, betters.

Of these four friends of old, Galier was the last remaining that had not crossed to the Undying Lands. He alone remembered the tale of the Elven girl that the King had loved as a kin he had never had, and of her fate, and of the reason why the name of the new Queen was not a common name at all, but a name that sung of unsung courage long-forgotten, a glorious and precious name indeed.

Galier, son of Ithilgaer the Flameshot, High Member of the Council of Elders, was the last Elf in Middle-Earth who could well recall

The Tale of Caran Elenath


~Part One~

In the great eating hall of King Thranduil, Elven King of Northern Mirkwood, silence reigned. Not a Man, nor Dwarf, nor Elf nor even Halfling roamed or occupied the immense room.

Save for one.

The girl Caran Elenath, Daughter of No One, sat huddled in a corner of the great Dining Hall, Elvish ears a-twitch with anticipation. She had her trap set well, aye, and, as she shifted into the folds of the simple spell cast to make her less noticable, she knew she had not much time to wait before her quarry was to arrive, and she prayed it be a good quarry at that.

The door to the Dining Hall glided open on silent hinges, and Caran swallowed, hard.

Standing in the entranceway was none other than the king Thranduil himself, adorned in his finest robes! At first, the small girl shivered, but quickly began to rub her delicate fingers together in impish glee.

Oh, this was to be a great quarry, indeed!

Caran could barely stifle a snicker as the golden-haired monarch advanced elegantly and deliberately toward the table filled with pasties; Their Great Leader was as much of a glutton as Cuindhaer himself! Her green-flecked eyes sparkled mirthfully as the king's hands hesitantly passed above each of the fine foods presented before him upon the oakwood table... Now if he would just touch a thread... Aye, if just a nail were to ghost past a silver string...

'CRASH!!!'

'CARAN ELENATH!!!'

If there should have been any more present than the king and the orphaned Elf-child, which, as I have already noted, there was not, I should think some would have sworn upon their very lives that Thranduil's deep, accusing cry echoed about the walls before the mounds and mounds of fresh pastry filling that had been concealed within the ceiling-beams had touched a hair upon his head. And yet, furthermore, there would most likely be a collective, unanimous oath that Caran Elenath The Nuisance -as was her "proper" title- had sprung nimbly forth from her hiding spot and had sprinted out the door before either of these events had occurred.

She charged through the corridors, corridors filled with the curses of the nigh-always calm leader, expertly dodging Elves in her path left and right, quickly murmuring apologies, when she had the mind to bother. Many, indeed, most, of the mystical creatures watched her with faces set ascowl, but a few let a smile cross their fine lips, as the (mostly) innocent antics of the young rascal had a tendency to raise the spirits of even the serious Elven-folk.

Bark-like red-brown hair chasing behind her as she whipped about a corner, Caran found herself face-to-face with none other than Galier Crossback, an overly-serious youngish Elf who expressed interest in joining the king's great guard itself, and a dear friend to the Prince, Legolas.

'Oh, suilad, friend Linel!' Caran said brightly, eyes darting back and forth in search of a favorable escape route.

Instead of a warm reply, Galier addressed the younger Elf in a commanding tone. 'Caran Elenath, what hast thou done this time?'

She blinked incredulously at his accusation, eyes shimmering with the very light of innocence. 'Why, friend Galier , whatever dost thou mean?'

The tall Elf's eyes burned into Caran. 'Thou art no friend of mine, Caran Elena-'

'That shall be quite enough, Galier Crossback!'

'Friend Legolas!' Caran exclaimed. She scrambled from Galier to the more favorable Prince's side before an owl could have blinked an eye, hiding behind his back, peering out cautiously at the nigh-speechless soldier-in-training.

Legolas allowed himself a warm smile as he ruffled the young Elf's hair fondly. 'Suilad, mellon Caran.'

This was one of the greatest reasons why all in the kingdom had so rarely reprimanded, if reprimanded at all, the mischievous little villain for her deeds: The Prince had taken to the girl like kin, calling her "friend", and laughing joyously whenever she recounted her tales of mischief, often in a rather animated manner. The Prince's close friends, Shiara and Linel, also grew to love Caran as a younger sister, and at times even Galier could tolerate her antics. But another reason her punishment was never to be any greater than some dislike in the minds of elders was perhaps that few possessed the heart to come down upon her. Caran may have verily been a "magnet for trouble", but her heart was ever in the right place. Caran's parents had been murdered by Orcs only two-hundred-and-fifty years ago, leaving her an orphan. It was then that Legolas and his companions had noticed her, and had as such "taken her in." She had always longed for adventure, but, due to her size and age, had never been permitted to leave the confines of the castle, or wander far from them in the case that she had a responsible escort. Because of this, she had burned, hearing Orc-cries at night, wanting naught more than to slaughter... But soon, she chose to turn to jests and pranks to still her desire of bloodshed, and it had worked well.

Although, though no one but themselves were ever to know it, Prince Legolas and his small company had instructed her well in the ways of the bow and the woods, and her skills were growing quite impressive, though the four prayed the need would never arise for her to use them.

Yet sometimes, Legolas could see that fire in her young eyes, burning...

'Legolas!' Galier bellowed, snapping the prince out of his reverie. He heard Caran give a slight giggle at his stunned expression, but smiled and turned his head to Galier as he continued to rave on.

'Legolas, do you not hear the cries of thine father?! He shall have your head, and this beast's as well!' Both Prince and child took this remark as seriously as if Galier had just said that there were a band of dragons and Wargs playing tenpins just 'round the brush, wearing red polka-dotted blindfolds and merrily humming limericks.

'Friend Linel,' Legolas said quietly, 'you know well of Young Caran's nature; Do not trouble her because of it, for indeed, it is a blockade to far worse things this child could find in herself to do!' Galier blinked -his Prince spoke ill as such quite rarely- but did not speak.

Legolas then turned and kneeled before the child, who was acting as though the last comment had not been made, placing a brotherly hand atop her head. 'Caran, I shall do my stop my father's wild onslaught. In the meantime, I suggest that you "visit" Friend Shiara, nay?' The fair-skinned Prince voiced the word "visit" as if it were to mean, "hide for your very life" as he gave a tiny wink.

Understanding immediately, Caran grinned broadly at the Prince before bolting through the corridors once more, calling back over her shoulder:

'I thank thee, Brother Legolas, and may your days always be ever-filled with joy!'