(Thranduil)

"The spiders have gained ground against us, my King Thranduil." Tauriel said, walking into the Great Hall of Mirkwood, stopping in front of a throne with a low bow. After a moment's pause, the blond king turned his head to face his guard, standing up and descending the stairs before his throne, coming to a stop before the auburn haired elf. "We must change our tactics." Thranduil stated, walking past the elven woman, leaving his back to face her. The hall rang with silence as Tauriel turned to face her king. "What is it you suggest, my lord?" the she-elf inquired, folding her hands behind her back. While Tauriel asked her questions, Thranduil's eyes focused on the throne that rose from the ground above the both of them. His throne, a lonely pillar in the center of a kingdom. He could still remember when the spot next to him had not been empty; he could still remember when there had been a Queen of Mirkwood, as well as a King. Those memories pained him and Thranduil did well not to dwell on them, but occasionally, his memories had him at a loss. As centuries passed by, Thranduil had found that it was easy to press his emotions down into his stomach and he succeeded for all emotions except for two. He always felt a sense of protectiveness over his Kingdom, and that was expected of a king. But the one that ate at him every day was one of loneliness. The King of Mirkwood the Great was lonely. With all those surrounding him, his heart ached for companionship. Since the death of Legolas' mother, he collapsed within himself and he was growing weary.

"My lord?" Tauriel inquired, taking steps to come into his peripherals. His head turned to her, the king's face emotionless, showing no signs of where his thoughts had been only moments before. "Did I not ask you to destroy their nests no more than two moons ago?" Thranduil inquired of the Silvan elf, turning his body to completely face her. Bowing her head in agreement, Tauriel went on. "Yes, you did. It has been difficult finding the source of this enemy. There have been rumors that they nest in Dol Guldor, though it is forbidden to go there."

"For good reason." Thranduil said, barely allowing Tauriel to finish before interrupting her. "Dol Guldor is outside our borders, therefor, none of our concern."

Tauriel, exasperated, continued after him. "You say you want us to rid our land of these intruders but you are not allowing us the freedom to do so." the she-elf exclaimed, a little too loudly but Thranduil was getting on her nerves. But her nerves were quickly simmered when her King gave her a look that told her she had crossed a line. Thranduil had piercing blue eyes that reminded her of the deepest, clearest pool and whenever he looked at her, she felt as if he was looking straight through her and he could see all of her deepest secrets. It was an uncomfortable feeling, not one she liked provoking often. "It would be in everyone's best interest if these creatures were destroyed as soon as possible, Tauriel." Thranduil said, turning away from her again, and beginning to ascend the stairs to his throne, simultaneously giving Tauriel the sense that the conversation was over. And indeed it was. Thranduil had no more to say to her, so she faded into the shadows, intent on doing her job, however that may come to be.

(Faervel)

The forest felt sick. The very essence of Mirkwood seemed to be fading. Faervel shifted the pack on her shoulders, staring into the thick entrails of Mirkwood the Great, intent on breaching its borders. Her travels had taken her from the land of the Hobbits to the great stone buildings of Minas Tirith, all the way to the lands of the Rohirrim, but never had she set foot in the lands of her kin. Her parents, both Silvan elves, had raised her within the borders of Laurelindorenan, but from a young age Faervel felt the tug on her heart that always came to those who wished to see the world. So with a kiss to the cheek and a wave goodbye, Faervel set off with a pack of clothes, food, and all the curiosity of a five year old. And with that curiosity, she filled her brain with the ways of all races of Middle-Earth. Her curiosity never seemed to be quenched, but her travels came to an early conclusion when she received word that her parents had been ambushed by a group of goblins on a scouting mission into the Drimrill Dale. The sorrow of that loss filled her heart with an ache she had never felt, even in her worst nightmares. But she found that exploring took away some of the throb of mourning and with her adventures, she found herself a family that took her in whenever she needed a bed to lay her head and a pair of open arms to fall into. She came to love them just as much as her parents. They were an elderly couple, which made it easy to do so. And with the knowledge that she had a home to come to, Faervel found herself standing at the head of a trail that lead her into a dark forest that tugged her curiosity. With a protest from her feet, she began her intrusion into the dark entrails of Mirkwood the Great.

As she followed the trail farther into the forest, the sunlight became less apparent, leaving the forest in twilight. Faervel made sure to tread carefully, making sure not to trip on the ever present roots protruding from the earth. The she-elf knew her fate, were she to travel off her path so she stopped ever hundred feet to make sure she was on the path that lead to the heart of the kingdom. As she walked farther into Mirkwood, the air began to get heavy. Her mind beginning to feel foggy, her chest felt like a Warg was sitting on it, breathing its disgusting breath into her face, filling her lungs with warm air. Air; she needed air. Her head was throbbing and her eyes could not find the trail in front of her feet. A dull sense of fear hit her stomach when her brain finally registered that she may not be leaving this forest with her life; she may not be leaving it at all if she could not find her way again. She needed to find her bearings and the first idea that came to her mind was climbing above the leaves, to clear her head and to see if she could find the trail again. Convincing herself that her idea was indeed a good one, she found a tree that fit to her liking and placed her hands in the grooves of the bark and begin to ascend to the warm sunlight she knew was above her.

Faervel was well in-shape from all her travels, but climbing the huge trees of Mirkwood had her gasping for breath within minutes. She had finally reached her first branch, stopping to catch her breath. For an elf, she really needed to work on her endurance. In a fight, she could last as long as the next elf, but the mix of grogginess and tree climbing must have tired weakened her body. A few minutes of rest and a clear head should do her good, so with that, Faervel began her ascent once again. It took the she-elf another five minutes to reach the top but when she did, the view that met her eyes was breathtaking in itself. The sun was just beginning to sink, sending the world visible to her eye into early evening. The leaves on the trees had a golden sparkle to them that she had seen nowhere else in the world. There was a slight breeze that instantly cooled her down. Taking a deep breath, her head suddenly cleared. A sigh escaped her lips and she relaxed. She felt herself relax, a sense of ease filling every crevice in her mind and body. She felt at home in these trees, above the world, above her troubles, above everything. Up here, she could really breath and let everything go with the wind. The tightness in her chest loosened and the wind picked up. Faervel spread her arms, feeling like she could fly. But that feeling of freedom was short lived when the sound of cracking branches reached her ears. Curious, her eyes opened and they quickly found the origin of the sound, crackling towards her.

A knot of fear wove itself together in the pit of her stomach, growing tighter with every crackle of the forest around her. Faervel had heard of the giant spiders that roamed the forests of Mirkwood, as had she also heard of the cockiness of Mirkwood's King, but had she really traveled far enough off the trail to meet up with these creatures? Apparently so. With that thought in mind, Faervel began to descend her tree, as silently and swiftly as was able, doing her best to not to attract the attention of her pursuers, but seeing as they were already heading her direction, she focused her attention on getting out of her current situation as quickly as possible. But, she did not succeed. A garbled scream escaped her lips as the face of a giant spider rushed towards her. The sudden rush of adrenaline and fear caused her grip on the branch she was latched onto to loosen, causing her to fall backwards towards the forest floor. Her body twisted in the air as she fell, passing the faces of many spiders, hitting a couple of branches before landing on the leaf-littered ground. Along with the cuts and scraps along her arms and legs, her lip was split but those were the least of her worries, for when Faervel hit the ground, there was a snap as her lower leg broke. She rolled a few feet from her landing spot, wincing in pain, the wind knocked out of her. With all the adrenaline pumping through her body, her leg did not hurt as much as it should have, but the throbbing was enough to tell her she would not be standing on two feet for a while. While she tried to catch her breath, Faervel clenched her fists open and closed, opening her eyes to find a terrifying sight descending down upon her. The sight of six gigantic spiders moving down on her was even more terrifying than the initial shock of seeing the spider's face so close, minutes earlier. Finally managing to gain control of her voice, Faervel managed to yell "Help!" As if her prayers were answered, one of the spiders let out a screech of pain, landing a few yards away, dead on its back, its legs curled over on its stomach. Her vision began to fade into a tunnel of darkness, her brain only able to comprehend seconds of what was going on around her at a time. As the last of her vision began to fade, the face of an auburn-haired she-elf appeared above her, giving a worried, but reassuring smile. Looking over her shoulder, the she-elf called out to someone, before turning her gaze back to Faervel. "Help me..." was all Faervel could utter before she fell into unconsciousness with one final sigh.

(Thranduil)

He always knew when someone entered his domain. A small tug in his chest always informed him of any new intruder, but this time was different. The tug was still there, but along with it came a jolt of happiness. The extra emotion along with the tug, caused him to grab for his chest in shock. Gaining control again, the King pulled his Elk to a sudden stop, quickly turning its head back towards the center of his kingdom.

Thranduil loved to get away from his throne and just ride whenever he could, but disappointingly, his ride was cut short today. With a squeeze of his long, slender legs, he sent his elk off into a comfortable stride towards home. Ten minutes later, the Elk's hooves hit wood as Thranduil crossed the wooden bridge that led to the entrance to his domain, slipping out of the saddle with grace, and handing the reins to a guard posted outside the door, and strutting through the large doors in front of him. Thranduil had a calm demeanor about himself, despite the urgency he felt in needing to know who had been brought into his home. As he strode into the Great Hall, he was met by his son and Tauriel. "Who have you brought back?" He asked with a strong force, towering over both Legolas and Tauriel. Tauriel looked at Legolas, as if searching for his permission to speak, before turning to face him again. "We were checking our boarders, having heard from the last patrol that the Spiders were becoming agitated, when a scream of help reached our ears. We found a she-elf had become lost within our forest, being descended upon by six of the creatures. Her leg had been broken in a fall, or I am sure she would have been able to defend herself." Tauriel explained, placing her hands behind her back. Her eyes never met his, although once she was done, her hopeful gaze lifted to meet his, hoping that her explanation had been enough.

Thranduil found it amusing that his Captain of the Guard reveled him enough to fear him. He knew he could be intimidating, but so could she. He had seen her work with the sword she carried at her waist and how she carried herself when giving orders, and if he had not been the King, his skill in weaponry unmatched, he would have been the one to find her intimidating. With a small nod, Thranduil turned his deep-blue eyes to his son, who straightened up and met his gaze. "Where is she now? Have you gained any information out of her?" He inquired, taking a step past both Legolas and Tauriel to the edge of the platform that overlooked the Great Hall. Placing his hands behind his back, he awaited an answer. "We have not attained any information from her. As far as I can tell, she is Silvan, but she was on the edges of unconsciousness when we reached her. She is in the infirmary, if you wish your questions to be answered further." His son said, coming to stand by his side. Tauriel silently made her way to his other side. The king contemplated going to see this elven visitor. It had been years since any elves from the outside world came inside the Mirkwood boarders. His face still emotionless, Thranduil turned without a word to descend down a flight of stairs, his long legs carrying him quickly towards the healing center. He made no move to check to see if Legolas or Tauriel followed, although he assumed they would, seeing as they were most likely more interested in this visitor than he was. But he felt it was his duty to check all those who entered his boarders, who were not his own kin. Arriving at the infirmary, the king, his son, and the Captain of the Guard were met by Lauralen, the healer, who gave them a quick bow in greeting.

"She is resting now. I gave her some herbs that should put her to sleep and keep the pain down. The woman had quite a fall." Lauralen explained to the three of them, respectively. From a couple beds down, the voice of a female spoke up. "I do not believe it has worked. Can I get some more because I am wide awake and my leg is throbbing."

Lauralen sighed inwardly, before bowing her head slightly, excusing herself, and turning to walk towards where the voice had originated from. Thranduil followed in suit, as did Tauriel and Legolas. Allowing his son and Tauriel to go first, Thranduil stayed in the shadows, out of sight, but well within hearing distance, for he wished to hear the answers that the injured she-elf provided them. Although he was hidden from sight, as well as he could be in such a well-lit section of the city, Thranduil could very well see who his visitor was and the sight of her made his breath catch in his throat. There, on the bed before him, lay a woman that almost mirrored his Queen, the mother of Legolas. Although it had been thousands of years since the death of his mate, seeing the elleth sitting before him caused his heart to wrench. He managed to keep the choke from emerging from his throat, as he took all of this elleth in.

The she-elf had sapphire blue eyes that kept him mesmerized, outlined by long, thin eyelashes in the color of midnight, that she batted almost constantly. Her skin was slightly lighter than ivory, complimented well by a rosy tint to her cheekbones. She had blond hair that cascaded down around her shoulders in thin, lengthy ringlets. Her eyes shown bright with mischief, but Thranduil could see a deep history behind what shown on the surface, showing him that she was much older than she seemed. "My apologies. I would get up and bow to the four elves who have done wonders to save my life, but sadly, I have a disability that is keeping me from doing that." the she-elf murmured, her gaze moving to her right leg, which was currently encased in a splint, before turning her eyes back to those of his son and Tauriel. She flashed them a small smile, which was returned by Tauriel. From his spot in the shadows, Thranduil saw his sons eyebrows furrow in mild interest. "Do you not mean the three of us?" Legolas inquired of her, folding his arms across his chest, doing his best to cover the presence of Thranduil, who was only feet away. Shaking her head, she gave a sly smile. "No, I mean four. The healer," she started, gesturing to Lauralen, who was across the room fixing up a new cup of tea, "the warrior," she said, moving her gaze to Tauriel, then to Legolas, "the Prince, and his father, the King." the she-elf finished, her entrapping eyes finally coming to rest on the spot where he stood. "Do come out King, I am not so intimidating that the famous Thranduil must hide in the shadows, am I? I do like seeing those I am talking to." the elleth said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, awaiting to see if he would do as she wished. Although what she asked was only a request, the feeling that there was more of a command behind the question was one that he could shake.

Grasping his hands in front of him, Thranduil took a couple of steps into the light, as Lauralen came over holding a steaming cup, which he knew was brewed with more herbs to end her pain. "You act as if you knew he was there the whole time." Tauriel questioned her. Taking a sip from her cup, the elleth winced, the liquid burning her tongue, before setting the mug down on a small table that rested next to the bed. "I would not have lived this long if I did not make a habit of checking the shadows. And I wanted to thank you both for saving me from those Spiders today." she said, smiling slightly, looking at both Legolas and Tauriel. Turning her eyes to him, the she-elf smiled, showing her pearly white teeth for the first time. "And I thank you, Your Highness, for allowing me shelter while I heal." She said, giving a small smirk in his direction. This elf was a snarky one, he would give her that. He liked that, although he would not let himself admit that to himself, let alone anyone else.

There was a moments silence before the elleth straightened up, a bright expression on her face once more, her gaze shifting from Tauriel, to him. "You look like you have questions you wish to ask of me. Well I will start by introducing myself. My name is Faervel, and I am a traveler, originating from the lands of Lothlorien." Faervel began to explain, as the four elves around her listened, some with more interest than others, as Mirkwood's visitor began to answer their questions, before they were even asked.

(Faervel)

When Thranduil stepped into the light, what met her eyes was was not what she was expecting at all, and she almost choked in shock. Faervel could not take her eyes off of him. His eyes were the deepest of blues, which she found captivating. They were complimented by long, cascading golden hair that was held out of his face by a crown of intricately woven branches and berries. His cheekbones were high, giving his face a sharp look to it. His lips were thick, giving him what seemed to be a permanent 'I know everything' look to him. He was tall, she guessed over six feet easily, with a slender body that was complimented with toned muscles that Faervel could easily see under the beautifully woven green robe that held to his body with a jeweled belt around his waist. Although he seemed to be less wise than other of her elven kin she had come across, his eyes held what seemed to be a world of knowledge.

As she continued on, Faervel felt the heat of Thranduil's gaze travel over her. She gave as little detail as possible about herself, while still providing enough to satisfy the questions she could see in the eyes of her listeners. Having taken sips from the tea Lauralen provided, Faervel began to feel the pain in her leg ebbing away, slowly but surely. Her eyelids felt heavy and she was having trouble keeping them open. "I do believe your tea is beginning to work, Lauralen." Faervel said, chuckling slightly as she lay her head back against the soft pillow behind her. "My apologies but I am growing weary and do not know how much longer I will be awake to give you the information you desire." Faervel said, providing a tired smile. "Then you must tell me one thing." Thranduil said, finally speaking up from the back. All eyes turned to him, Faervel raising an eyebrow in surprise. "The king speaks." She said, smirking. And he had a wonderful voice. Deep, and rich like milk chocolate and it gave her shivers. But she pushed that thought out of her mind as Thranduil continued on without pause. "From what direction did your attackers pursue you from?" He inquired of her. Faervel paused, doing her best to remember. She had been so afraid she barely remembered anything. But she did answer him as confidently as she could. "They were not heading from Dol Guldor, if that is what you are asking." Faervel said, placing both her hands on her lap. And with that, the King of Mirkwood turned and departed, having the answer he required of her. "Well isn't he a ball of cuddly fun." Faervel murmured to herself. Both Tauriel and Legolas smiled. Tauriel turned away, looking over her shoulder. "I will return tomorrow to keep you company." she said with a smile before following after her King. Legolas watched Tauriel walk out, before turning to find Faervel with a smirk on her face. Raising an eyebrow, he silently questioned her expression. Laughing, Faervel rolled her eyes. "I may be taking a medicine that makes me tired, but even under its influence, I can see you care for her, and I have been in your kingdom three hours at most." Legolas raised an eyebrow, ready to deny any accusations she made. "Do not worry, it is safe with me." She said, closing her eyes with a sigh. There was momentary silence where the only noise was the rustle of Lauralen's robes, but it was broken by the voice of the Prince.

"You will get used to him." Legolas said suddenly. The Prince sounded a lot like his father, although a little less confident. His voice had the same chocolaty, desirable ambiance about it, but Faervel still found herself intrigued with the King of the Woodland Realm. "What was that?" Faervel inquired, opening her eyes again. She wanted to make sure she had heard the elven prince right. "You will get used to him." Legolas said again, looking towards the direction that the King and his Captain of the Guard had departed to, before returning his slivery blue eyes to hers. She shrugged, giving a curt reply. "I do not believe I will be a guest among the Silvan elves of Mirkwood for long enough for me to 'get used to him' as you put it. He does not seem to take to new people very well." Faervel observed, looking down at her hands. "Do not worry. He was warmer to you than most who enter this Kingdom. What you saw today was better than most receive." Legolas reassured her, giving her a smile. Faervel lifted her eyes to meet him, flashing a smile in return. "Get some rest. You look weary." Legolas said before taking his leave. The statement of the Prince had been quite and understatement. As if on cue, all the muscles in her body felt the heavy weight of weariness settle in. Her hike into the forest, her match with the spiders, and her meeting with the King wore her out. Falling back, Faervel fell asleep well before her head hit the pillow, her dreams full of terrifying spiders and beautiful blond kings coming to her rescue.