Chapter One

"Above all, my son, you are an Elf Warrior, descending from an ancient line of fighters. You will one day ride gloriously into some chaotic battlefield the same way as I have in the days of my youth. The battlefield is my domain no longer- it now belongs to you. For you, my son, you alone possess the power to wield my bow. I pass it on to you, as my time has ended. My son, you are the new hope of the Woodland Realm."

The King gaped with great curiosity into the prince's eyes. The eyes were yet undeveloped, but somewhere within the star he thought he could make out two bright emerald stones. Emerald stones which, although hazy, captivated the King nonetheless. He liked to think that that was where the prince's eyes were going to be, where the two emeralds were situated. The thought humored him.

"You go too far, Thranduil." A She-Elf giggled behind him; she too was lost in the wonder of the illuminated star before them. "You speak to it as if it can already hear you. You speak as if many years have passed and the child is fully grown."

"The day will come, my sweet Celabeth. We both know that it will," Thranduil replied. There was movement within the star, a constant source of amazement for the King. The new being was growing, although not as quickly as Thranduil wished. The star never ceased to mesmerize him; this new beam of light held within it also the most precious string of life- a being whose blood was that of Thranduil's. It was hard to picture now, and yet he could see it so clearly, the life of the child unwinding in front of him. He would cradle his child, as if there was no other existing care in the world, hold it tightly against his breast and sing him ancient lullabies. He would let him rest on his lap for endless nights…he would protect him.

"I like speaking to him. I feel like telling him stories already, dear Celabeth. Oh, how I wish to teach him! I want to teach him so many things..." The King averted his gaze from the shaft of light, fixing them adoringly on his wife. Queen Celabeth took her King's hands and squeezed them. She remembered so well, the first time Thranduil had mentioned the joy of begetting a child together. And now they had been gifted with this blessing. "There will be plenty of time, Thranduil, to teach him all that we can," she said, smiling warmly at him. Her smile vanished, replaced by a frown when she noticed that the King's eyes were downcast.

"Tell me, what troubles you so?" Lady Celabeth lifted his chin to let him know that he was not alone.

"Nothing. It's just…"

Thranduil closed his eyes. The vision of his child came to him again, more lucidly than ever. He saw that he was simply beautiful, nothing more, nothing less.

"I want him to love me," he whispered, yet Celabeth could hear him. "I would like him to love me, as much as I'll love him. I already love him, Celabeth. With each passing day, I think more about when he will arrive."

Celabeth softly laughed. "My Lord, you show too much impatience. He will arrive before we know it." The Lady of the Woodland Realm stroked his silky mane, looking on in admiration.

Much to the Lady's concern, Thranduil sighed, sending a wisp of air from his mouth into the chilly evening air. "I… I am not great, lovely Celabeth. I want for our child to grow into a stronger one than I…" There he was stopped, interrupted by his Lady with her finger against his lips forbidding further talk.

"If you are speaking of the Battle at Mount Doom so many years ago, I want you to weep no longer. You had no control over the fates of those who fell. You know this. You are wallowing in your guilt," the Lady assured.

At this, the tranquil King's tone slightly went up. "I stood watching as my comrades fell on the slopes of Mount Doom. I heard their cries, yet I fled for my own life. I did nothing. Like a coward I fled. Middle-earth needs brave, courageous fighters. Our child… our child is the future, Celabeth…"

His voice trailed off into the night air. Afraid that he had disturbed his Lady with his ramblings, he embraced her and comforted her, and all talk of the past was forgotten in that present moment. He sang to her, sang to her the Melody of the Stars, folk songs of their people. Without speaking, Celabeth looked deep into her King's eyes. Do not be afraid. Her eyes said. There is no need to worry. You are the great King of the Woodland Realm, and soon you will make a good father.

To assure him that no more would be said about it, she added, It was not your fault. Forget the past. You have proven your valor to me, and all of Mirkwood.

Thranduil nodded, his soul now not so heavy. "You keep calling our child a prince," the Lady mused. "Are you so sure that he is one? We may as well be having a princess; it is too early to tell yet."

"Yes, I am quite certain, Celabeth. Some things, I have just grown to trust. And yes, our child will be a prince," Thranduil said with satisfaction. "A handsome, healthy prince with your lovely eyes." He tenderly put his arms around his wife, burying his face in her hair. He only wanted to tell her how overjoyed he was, how thankful he was to his wife for all that she had been to him, for being the mother of his child. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her. But at that precise moment, there seemed to be no words good enough to express it.