Hello! Thank you for reading this! It would be really helpful if you all reviewed and let me know what is good, bad, and incorrect. Thanks!

And my apologies to the first 18 or so people who read this. There was a little mishap when I copied and pasted it. But it should be fixed now. If anyone finds a mistake that I missed, please tell me.

By the way, this story is rated T because of violence. Also, do not expect a lot of fluff. Do not expect any good fluff, either. I stink at fluff. And emotions in general.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs to Tolkien. Obviously.

Glawardes leaned against a tree and absentmindedly fiddled with her bracelet, watching her only son in admiration as he practiced archery. The young elf was only thirty-eight, but he had nearly mastered the weapon. Glawardes couldn't be more proud, and her son knew it. As he pulled back the bowstring, preparing for another shot at the target, he gave her a showoff-ish look over his shoulder. She got a clear look at his grey eyes, high cheekbones, and dark eyebrows, which were framed by his blond hair. In that instant, he could not have looked more like his father.

"Watch me, Nana," Glawardes's son called. She happily obeyed. Her son turned back to the target and focused intently on its center. Glawardes waited patiently for a few moments, but the elfling focused longer still, until she was quite sure that her son was just trying to build up the suspense. No sooner had she made this conclusion than he released the arrow, sending it flying straight into the center of the target. The boy shouted excitedly, "Did you see that? Did you see that, Nana?"

"Good job, Legolas!" Glawardes praised her son, "I think that now you are more than a match for most of the guards."

Legolas beamed. The comment meant a lot to him. Greenwood had many, many good archers, so to be compared to even just one of them was a huge compliment. He excitedly explained, "I've been practicing really hard lately, but my swordsmanship still needs work. I would really like to become part of the Guard one day. Do you think Ada would approve?"

"I'm sure he will. With your skills, he may even make you Captain," Glawardes reassured him. Mentally, she added, 'And even if he does not let you, I will convince him.'

As Legolas continued his practicing, Glawardes watched the sky through the trees. The sun was beginning to set, and the clear blue gradually started to stain red and fade to darkness. Soon, it would be too dark for them to find their way back to the palace. Eventually, she let out a long, content sigh and said, "Come on, Legolas. It is getting late. We don't want to keep your father waiting. Maybe we will have deer for dinner tonight."

"But we surely don't have to go now. It's only right over there," Legolas complained, pointing towards the nearby river and the cliff on the other side. Glawardes understood that her son didn't want to go inside, but it really was getting dark. She had already waited too long, so she resorted to warning, "Legolas, it is getting very dark. We need to get inside. Now. You can practice tomorrow."

Legolas was a smart enough boy to know when to pursue an argument with his mother and when arguing was a terrible idea. Right now, it was a terrible idea. He dutifully followed Glawardes as she led the way back to the palace. The guards let them in, a bit surprised that they were still out. Lately, the forest had begun to grow unnaturally dark at night, sometimes lingering into morning. Glawardes knew something had gone astray, but what?

Once she had sent Legolas to dinner, Glawardes set out to find her husband. The darkness was getting a little too strong, and something needed to be done. She would do it herself, but Thranduil was the king, and therefore in charge. The problem was that he wasn't the quickest person to see these types of issues, but Thranduil needed to act before it was too late. She needed to persuade him to move. This should't be too difficult because, being his wife, she was his most trusted adviser and held a lot of sway in his decisions.

Glawardes accidentally stepped on her dark green dress as she checked the library, but kept her balance. Needless to say, Thranduil was not in there, either. By now she had covered his study room, throne room, and bedroom, and had asked many servants if they knew where he was. Of course, none of them had. Frustrated, Glawardes picked up her skirt and started for the garden, muttering about how dresses were impractical.

She almost tripped several more times but finally found him reading a book in the garden, surrounded by green trees and bright flowers. He smiled as she approached and greeted, "Good day, Glawardes."

"Good day, Thranduil," Glawardes returned. Thranduil gracefully took her hand, kneeled, and gently put it to his lips, causing her heart to flutter. He then stood up and looked straight into her bright blue eyes, noticing that something haunted her. His wife's thoughts were well hidden to most, but he knew her well enough to take a few educated guesses. Nonetheless, he asked anyway, tucking a stray strand of wavy, blond hair behind her pointed ear, "What troubles you, my love?"

If he knew her well enough to assume her thoughts, then she knew him well enough to say, "I suppose you already know."

"Tell me anyway," Thranduil insisted, sitting back down on the bench. Glawardes sat down beside him and explained, "The darkness is growing, Thranduil. You know it. And it will continue to grow until we find the cause and destroy it. If the Enemy has returned, then we must know."

Thranduil thought about what his wife had just said. It made sense, but he doubted that the Enemy had returned. Sauron had been defeated only 1,050 years ago. The only evidence of evil in Greenwood was the rare giant spider and occasional orc. He voiced his opinions, "Greenwood is safe. The Enemy was defeated by Isildur, and he has not yet returned. If anything is amiss in Greenwood, then it will start at Dol Guldur, which is closer to Lothlorien than us."

"We cannot wait for bad things to happen to us, Thranduil," Glawardes insisted, "Sometimes, we must act before our enemies. I know that Sauron was destroyed, but I cannot rid this feeling that it is him. The darkness would not have come from anything else, and we all know that the Ring survived. And the wizards have been sent here to oversee that he doesn't come back. Why would they need to come here if that danger was not present?"

"You are worrying too much. We are safe," Thranduil lightly assured. Glawardes crossed her arms and glared at him. Why was he being so stubborn? It was obvious that this physical darkness beginning to plague the forest was the start of something bigger. Her eye caught his, and she increased the intensity of her stare. Suddenly Thranduil laughed, "You look so beautiful when you are mad!"

Glawardes's mouth slightly dropped open with indignation. 'Seriously?' she thought, 'He is laughing at me?'

"I'll promise you this," Thranduil continued, seeing that she was being really serious. He pulled her closer to him and promised, "I'll send some scouts to Dol Guldur. Will that make you happy?"

"Only if I get to say, 'I told you so,' when I end up being right."

"Deal," Thranduil smiled. Glawardes smiled back at him. She had never seen Thranduil unhappy, and doubted that he ever could be. He was kind and gentle and patient and loving. And she loved him right back. Nothing could change the fact that they loved each other.

'And nothing will,' she thought.

Glawardes leaned her head against his shoulder, and Thranduil ran his hand through her wavy, silvery-blond hair. They sat there for a few minutes, forgetting everything, just savoring the moment. Until Legolas ran past the garden, followed by an angry cook shouting, "Come hither with my muffins!"

Thranduil and Glawardes stared after them in shock, laughing. Finally, Glawardes commented, "It looks like our son has gotten into mischief again. I should remedy of that. And you are going to send scouts, right?"

"I will," Thranduil replied. His wife raised an eyebrow, "Right now?"

"I promise," he answered.

That was nearly a month ago. The scouts had returned bearing news that an army of orcs was arising in Dol Guldur, and Glawardes took little pleasure in her bragging rights. Unfortunately, the scouts did not know what was summoning the army. Thranduil guessed that the orcs were acting alone. Glawardes still felt like something more evil and cunning than a sorcerer was behind this, but Thranduil dismissed her concerns. Something he rarely did.

Since then, they had kept a close eye on the fortress. Each day, the orcs had grown stronger, forging weapons and armor non-stop. Glawardes urged her husband to strike while the orcs were weak, but he didn't see them as a threat yet. Eventually, the Elvenqueen became exhausted from her constant nagging and gave up.

But the time had come for them to accept war. The orcs were marching to their fair realm now. Thranduil had waited too long. Once again, Glawardes was given the bragging rights.

Glawardes prepared for the battle alongside her husband. Almost every elf was going to fight, as long as they were old enough. This meant that a very frustrated Legolas was going to have to stay behind. He complained, "But I want to help defend the kingdom!"

"No, Legolas, we need you here," Thranduil told him. The young prince pouted, "But I can fight!"

"You cannot fight in this battle. Maybe when you are older you can help me lead the soldiers against our enemies, but not today," the king replied. Glawardes watched her son turn to her for support. She could only offer him a smile and gently say, "It will be fine, Legolas. We promise to stay safe. Besides, the battle won't be near as exciting as you think."

Legolas pouted some more and walked away, angry at his parents for not letting him join. He was more than capable of defending himself. He was capable. More capable than he assumed his mother was, anyway. He muttered something about how she would most likely be injured in the first few minutes, and desired even more to fight and defend the ones he loved.

Glawardes knew what he was thinking as he walked away, but didn't dwell on it for long. There was a battle to win. She accompanied Thranduil as he joined the army of elves waiting outside the palace. With one last look at her home, she followed her king as he led the army and marched to meet the orcs.

It was a shorter trip than Glawardes expected. They had left around noon, and now it was just getting dark. Everyone's swords glowed blue as they faced the opposing force. There had to be at least three orcs for every elf, and they had brought a lot of elves. This was not including the trolls. Glawardes mumbled sarcastically, just loud enough for Thranduil to hear, "They aren't a threat?"

"Well, the scouts didn't say that there would be this many," he whispered back defensively. Glawardes chuckled, "They never do. But do not worry. Our skill is greater than theirs."

With a loud, horrible war cry, the orcs advanced quickly, ready to shed blood. They were still a good distance away, but it was only a matter of minutes before they would reach them. Thranduil shouted, "Draw your swords!"

Everyone obeyed. The orcs were only a matter of yards away now. They looked fierce, but the elves felt no fear. They were fighting for their homes, their friends, their families. These orcs were going to die. Thranduil shouted more orders, "Release the arrows!"

Suddenly, arrows poured down from the trees onto the invading force, who were only a few feet away. The hidden archers had taken the army by surprise, just as Thranduil had predicted. Most of the orcs died instantly, but a few managed to continue onward. Glawardes gripped her sword tighter. This was when the real battle was going to begin.

The first orc that ran at her was instantly stabbed, though not by her. Glawardes decapitated the next one and gave Thranduil an annoyed look, but he had already felled another foe. He glanced at her and smirked, "That's two for me."

"Only because you killed mine! That was not fair!" she retorted, bringing her sword down on another orc. She killed two more before shouting at him, "That makes four!"

"Only four? I just smote my seventh!" he shouted back, a bodiless orc head falling from his weapon. It was an unfair match, and she knew it. Thranduil had always been the better fighter. But it was fun, nonetheless, so she humored him by playing along.

They were being approached by some trolls now, but Glawardes noticed that most of the orc forces seemed be holding back. This registered in her brain, and she suspected that they had a strategy. She beheaded another opponent and glanced around, but she couldn't find Thranduil in the swirling mass of bodies (not all of which were alive). Since Thranduil commanded the army, she could do nothing until she found him.

So, Glawardes decided to deal with the enemies she could, which meant taking care of five more orcs and a warg, bringing her total up to ten. Where the warg came from, she did not know. Mounts weren't often used in forest battles, because the trees and bushes usually got in the way. But the orcs must have brought them, because there were several more wargs being ridden around the battlefield. Even with the wargs, the orcs were having a hard time fighting the elves, probably because of the archers. Glawardes finally spotted Thranduil in the front, leading his people to victory.

Some of the orcs that were holding back suddenly decided to flee. That was good. Now the orc army had been cut down to two-thirds its original size.

But there were still the trolls to worry about. Glawardes tried to run to the king and warn him of the orcs still holding back, but three orcs and a troll stood in her way. The orcs she dealt with easily, but the large troll was a different matter. It raised its weapon, a large stone club, and slung it down like a hammer. Glawardes barely dodged the blow, and the ground trembling a moment with the impact. The troll tried again, and again, and again, but each time she jumped out of the way. The troll grew tired long before her, and soon it could barely lift the club. She used this to her advantage and, after the next attempt, scurried up the stone and firmly planted her sword in its head. It fell with a loud thump, and Glawardes lightly hopped off, thinking, 'I wonder if that counts as two?'

She looked around again for Thranduil, but he had disappeared again. Unfortunately, that was not what worried her at the moment. Orcs were closing in on their right side. They were about to be flanked! If she didn't find the king in about twenty seconds, a lot of elves were going to lose their lives. In a split-second decision, she made up her mind. There was no time to find the king.

"Elves of Greenwood, defend the flank!" Glawardes screamed as she charged the oncoming regime. Many elves joined her, rallying to their queen. It was glorious and terrifying. The elves crashed into the orcs, creating a two-front battle. The first line of orcs didn't stand a chance. Neither did the second line, or most of the third, but then Glawardes met a challenge. By the time her group had taken care of the third line, which had raised her score to sixteen, they had been surrounded. She now knew what had happened to that strategy she suspected the orcs had formed. This was it.

In her fury and excitement, she had led her small band farther from the main group than she had wanted, allowing more orcs and trolls to cut them off. Glawardes looked around frantically for any sign of escape, but there was none. The orcs had completely surrounded them. She fought and killed as many enemies as she could, but Glawardes was powerless to stop the massacre she had led some of her people, her friends, into. She saw Camendir, Camenion, and Celegwen all beheaded. Eriel and Thurendir were stabbed just feet away from her. Moririel and Morivanya, two sisters that Glawardes had known since they were born just 300 years ago, were already lying dead beside each other but were still being hewed and sliced. All around her, her kin - her people - were dying. And it was all her fault.

Suddenly, something rammed into the back of her skull, sending her flying. Glawardes hit the ground hard, knocking the wind from her. She rolled onto her back, gasping for breath, and saw the cause of her fall: an orc. Franticly, she reached for her sword, but it was laying on the ground a meter away. Nothing could save her as the orc raised his sword, preparing to end her the same way she had ended twenty-one of its friends, if you could call them that. She shielded her head and waited for the end.

It never came. Hoping beyond reason that Thranduil had seen her group and had broken through the barrier of orcs, Glawardes peeked over her hands. It was not Thranduil, but another orc that had come to her rescue. He looked down at her from his warg with hate, but at least he stopped the orc from killing her. Oh, who was she trying to fool? Whatever he planned to do with her, death was probably merciful.

He growled something to a few surrounding orcs in the Black Speech, and immediately they sprang for her, which was more terrifying than the orc with the sword. She shielded herself, closed her eyes, and screamed as she felt hands grabbing her arms and legs, but her calls were drowned in the overall clashing of swords and shouts from the wounded. A nasty cloth was wrapped around her mouth so she couldn't yell for help, not that anyone would hear her, and her wrists and ankles were bound. She was placed on the warg with the orc and noticed several other riders with them as well, though none carried survivors. In fact, she saw no one from her group. They had all died. Grief overwhelmed her, strengthening when she realized that she would never see Thranduil or Legolas again. Oh, why hadn't she said goodbye? Why hadn't she treasured those years with them?

The wargs took off, bearing her further and further from her home. The battle was quickly swallowed by the trees, making Glawardes more anxious. She was never going to come back. No one could help her. No one would find her, much less get there in time. Wherever "there" is.

'But that's not entirely true,' she thought, 'Thranduil will send scouts. He will look for me. The entire kingdom will be after these orcs. He just has to know that I am alive.'

She immediately thought of her bracelet. Thranduil had given it to her when they were still courting. He would be able to recognize it anywhere, and since it was so far away from the battle, it would surely alert him to her predicament. After all, she rarely took it off, even when sleeping. Yes, that would be perfect. But how would she get it off without the orcs noticing?

That didn't prove to be as difficult as she had first thought. Her bracelet was open at the back, so all she had to do was slide it off. Even with her hands tied, it wasn't too hard. Once it was off, Glawardes dropped it, accidentally hitting the warg in the process. But the warg didn't react and the orcs didn't notice, so everything was fine.

But as they continued riding, Glawardes began to wonder if the orcs wanted to be followed. They must have figured out that she was the queen, which would explain why they had spared her. It didn't take a genius to figure out that her husband would do anything necessary to get her back safely. If they planned to weaken him, this was the way to do it.

These suspicions were partially confirmed when the orcs stopped at the edge of the forest and removed her wedding ring. Then, all but five orcs continued to run forward, taking the ring with them. The five that remained with her turned south. Glawardes could feel her blood freeze and her heartbeat quicken. Now she knew what they were planning. She knew where she was being taken. She knew that her suspicions had not been entirely false.

They were taking her to Dol Guldur, and that meant that the Enemy had returned.

So, what did you guys think? I will probably update every Monday or Tuesday. Please review! And don't worry. The story gets better than this.

Also, I'm pretty sure that you can review this even if you don't have an account. Just letting you know, since it took me a while to figure that out. Anyway, I hope you people have a wonderful day!

EDIT: Please do not post negative comments without giving me a way to correct it. I want this fanfic to be the best it can be, and telling me "This is trash" or "I hate it" does not solve the problem. And I meant it when I said it gets better. Might get better several chapters down, but it gets better. Thank you!