Hello my lovelies, so it has been a very long time since I posted any work. I have to be honest and just say, well, I couldn't really be bothered. I have lost a lot of motivation and interest for most of the things I enjoy doing (darn you! unemployment and medication – you suck). I am hoping to get back into the swing of things. I have missed ya'll and I have missed using my imagination and creating adventures for you all to enjoy.

So I hope you will forgive me, if this doesn't seem as good as my previous stuff – getting back on track. If you like it, or will like to see where this is going, then please please please review. It really does help the writer to know what you think; it can be very encouraging and constructive. So, if you would like me to continue, then please drop me a comment in the review section!

Love you all!

Xxx

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The March home after the battle of the five armies was a solemn one. Many were injured; many were killed and some remained untouched on the outside but scarred from loss on the inside. King Thranduil rode at the front of the procession leading back to Mirkwood, once named the green wood, with his Captain of the guard by his side. After seeing the heart break that Tauriel endured watching her loved one die, Thranduil, though cold and hard as his appearance and attitude may appear, could not find it in his heart to let her remain banished. Of course this was music and healing to the elleth's ears, and so she thanked him sincerely and rode by his side with a grateful heart, no matter how heavy. As Erebor looked nought but a dot in the distance, sorrow and relief both washed over the Elves; to be rid of the land in haste was a much needed antidote. The moon shone with such brightness that evening, as though rejoicing the end of battle and the remainder of life, for the earth had drank much innocent blood that the land almost looked tainted red and full of despair. Much rest was needed, and so the King raised his arm in the air to stop the procession of Elves and told them to stop for the night. After hearing loud sighs of relief from the whole procession, Thranduil dismounted his steed and patted its neck; sadly thinking back to his magnificent stag that perished among the fallen warriors; not even the wildlife were spared from the fell beasts that roamed the land. Tauriel left her King went straight to those in need and Thranduil sought a boulder on which he might sit and rest his aching back. "No, I will do that, go and get something prepared; everyone is starving, without a doubt. There are sacks of food near the carts…" Thranduil heard Tauriel give orders to this Elf and that Elf and was greatly relieved, though he did not show it, to have her back in his company.

A light vegetable broth was passed around everyone and empty stomachs were filled; the grumbles of hunger silenced. It was the nicest evening that had all experienced for a while and they all soaked in the bliss of silence and safety gladly. Thranduil, after having his fill of food rose from his perch and made his way toward a small gathering of trees, wanting some privacy from everyone. "My Lord, is there anything you need?" A voice suddenly called as he began to walk, and his shoulders drooped in sadness. Why couldn't he be left alone, he thought to himself? Turning, he looked upon Feren and gave a weak smile.

"All is well; I just wish to walk by myself for some time." The King replied and Feren nodded in respect though a look of concern still remain on his face. "What is it Feren?"

"My lord, a great battle has just taken place; filth and orc and goblin may still be roaming these lands after fleeing. Please forgive me, but I don't think it safe for you to venture out by yourself" Thranduil smiled at the care of his man and waved his concern away.

"Would it settle you if I were to take my sword, and please, do not insult me as to ask if I can manage by my lonesome?" The king asked, though humour was evident in his tone. Feren smiled at his Lord and bowed.

"Very good My Lord, duly noted. Enjoy your walk. I shall be near however, should you need my assistance" Feren responded, then with respect he left without another word. Thranduil smiled at being alone once more, and before anyone else could catch him, he walked quickly toward the trees.

Wandering in the darkness between the trees with the laughter and chattering of his comrades in the distance, Thranduil let out a breath that he had not realized he had been holding. Thranduil allowed his smile to dissipate and tears began to trickle down his cheeks as he thought about all the men he had lost and about his son, Legolas; how he was no longer in his company. He felt such a weight lift from his shoulders when he allowed the floodgates to open without his company to witness. Being a leader required such sternness and strength, so the Golden king found it hard to let his emotions go; but now, they ran freely like a coursing river. As he slunk against a tree, closing his eyes, a strange noise sounded quite close to him and alerted all his senses. Opening his eyes in an instant, he grasped his sword in its sheath tightly. Taking a step forward, pressing his ear to the breeze, the sound came again, followed by a foul stench. Recognising the smell, Thranduil ran as fast as his aching limbs could take him, and exited the expanse of trees, calling for Tauriel, Feren and two guards. There was only one thing it could be with a stench so foul it churned the stomach; Orcs. Brandishing their swords, knives and bow, the group of Elves rushed into the trees, ready for an attack – they could not risk taking their time to stalk them, should one happen to stumble upon the procession of injured elves. As they delved deeper into the trees, the stench was almost overwhelming to the keen Elven senses, as if the Orcs were approaching them. Two of the King's guards went first, disappearing into the shade of the oaks, and not a moment later, shrieks followed as the guards did their work in slaying the fell beasts. After an all clear call from Garethin, informing them that they need not fight as there were only three Orcs, not a gathering, Thranduil, Feren and Tauriel stepped forward past the Oak and came to a halt; mouths open wide in shock.

Tied up to a tree, with arms in the air was a male Elf. His head hung in his unconscious state and blood dripped from his temples, spattering on the ground. A knife imbedded in his left thigh and several shallow cuts across his abdomen told Thranduil that this young one had been tortured. Rushing toward the Ellon, Thranduil placed his fingers on his neck and checked for a pulse. It was there, but it was very weak. "You are safe now. Can you hear me? You are safe." The young elf awoke to the sound of voices tried to push himself away fearing it to be another orc. When no pain came, he began to sob as he realised that the torturing had stopped. Tauriel cut free the bonds around the Ellon's wrists and let him drop into the King's arms. Thranduil held the Elf to him in comfort, and his eyes darted over his body in worry, a fatherly instinct kicking in. "What's your name; Penneth?"

"L-Lirinell" He answered, his voice coarse.

"You are safe Lirinell. My company and I will get you safely away from here and see to your injuries; we are not that far away. Try to stay awake" Lirinell nodded and continued to weep at the pain that was coursing through his body and the harsh throbbing in his head.

Feren dropped down beside his King and looked over the poor form in his arms. "Should we remove the blade?"

"No..." Said Thranduil "... We do not know what the blade has struck. He could bleed to death. Our healers will know what to do. Garethin, come here and help me get him to his feet" The guard did as his king commanded and rushed over and helped raise the young elf up into the King's arms. Lirinell yelled in anguish as his body moved and he felt as though his body had been set on fire.

"He is nought but a child!" Tauriel gasped as she caught sight of Lirinell face as he rested it on Thranduil's shoulder.

"All the more sport for the filthy off breed" Feren responded followed by a disgusted spit on the floor.

"Come, we must leave this place. More may return and this young one needs aid" Thranduil spoke urgently and the group looked at their King in surprise; hardly ever did he show this much emotion to anyone. Tauriel felt sad for the young one as they walked back out into the open and she wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold. Thranduil walked on ahead of them and Feren and Tauriel walked side by side in silence. Feren waited until his King and the two guards were out of before he spoke to his friend and captain.

"He cannot be any older than sixteen, perhaps eighteen at the most."

"Agreed; I cannot imagine the pain he has gone through…" Tauriel agreed, looking sideways to her friend sadly.

"The physical pain is not all he is experiencing I imagine…" Feren continued and he stopped in his tracks.

"What do you mean Feren?"

"He is but a child, Tauriel … has anyone stopped to think where his parents might be? Seldom do Elves of such a young age wander along." The Ellon explained, automatically looking back toward the trees; dread filling his entire being.

"You are right! We must check the camp – they may still be there!" Tauriel gasped at the realization and without another word, as if knowing each other's minds, both set off back to the Orc's camp.

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Two distinct bodies led side by side, covered in blood and facial features and limbs hardly recognisable. The only things recognisable to Tauriel and Feren were gender and Elven ears. It was what they feared most; Lirinell's parents. Tauriel stepped closer to examine the bodies. It appeared that the Orcs had assaulted the female quite viciously in her lower region, and with clothes missing, it was very clear that the male was missing his lower region completely. Along with deep wounds and broken bones; it was a gruesome sight to behold. So disgusting was the situation that both Elves turned and gaged, feeling greatly uneasy at the onslaught of their kin in such an inhumane way. "How are we ever to tell that poor Ellon? It's bad enough the suffering he went through, then to tell him his parents have been brutally murdered? I will pray to the Valar for their souls…" Tauriel spoke, sadness greatly overwhelming her; tears trickling down her face. Agreeing, Feren bowed his head in respect and sighed solemnly. The silence had passed and both came to look upon the sight once more. "Should we bury them here or take them with us?"

"I fear we do not have any room left on the carts and we cannot expect our people to carry them all the way home even if we are less than two days away. It would be right to bury them. To move them might deform them even more and they deserve a worthy burial. Go Tauriel, tell the King of our find and sent Garethin back to me to help bury the bodies. You have seen much death and do not need this image imbedded in your mind"

Tauriel thanked her friend and headed for the procession quickly, doing everything that Feren had asked of her.

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Thranduil placed Lirinell onto the boulder on which he had previously sat and despite the curious and surprised glances of the gathering of Elves, the King stroked the child's brow and looked softly at him. Lirinell opened his eyes and glanced up at the King, reaching his hand up for Thranduil to take it in comfort. "I heard them..." The child whispered, almost inaudible; his eyes wide open in fright. His eyes were red raw and tears brimmed over onto his pale, dirty cheeks.

"Shhh Penneth, you need to rest..." Thranduil cooed gently, stroking the boys head in comfort. Thranduil quickly broke eye contact and searched the procession for his healer. On spotting him, he called him over. Whilst waiting for his healer to join him, the blonde ruler looked back to the body on the stone.

"I heard them..." He repeated, almost hysterically "… I can still hear them..."

"You are safe" Thranduil whispered, envisioning his son in Lirinell's place. His heart twisted in pain and found that he needed to step away for a moment, feeling overwhelmed. The healer had arrived earnestly and glanced wide eyed over the child then to his King. "Do all you can to patch him up and relieve him of his pain so that he can make the journey home. I do not want another one of our kin affected by the evil in this land. The longer we wait here the more susceptible we are to attacks…" Thranduil spoke harshly; his usual demeanour taking over. With one last glance at the boy, Thranduil walked over to the recently returned Tauriel and watched as several assistants to the healer headed toward the boy.