A/N: I am a recent Lord of the Rings fan. I find that I love the story line and plot. I have taken to reading about the Great Eleven King on fanfiction. I find his story interesting. I want to know more about him, but there is not a lot to read about him. So I am writing my own! I do not know the whole story of his past, but this story I am writing came to me. I may not know all the facts but when inspiration hits do not question it. It is called fanfiction for a reason, so I'm going to tweak the original plot some. I haven't ever finished a story because I could never find one I want to finish. I have a really good feeling about this one. I do not have a plan on how I will finish it yet but save the story for updates because there is a lot more to come. Disclaimer: I do not own J. R. R. Tolkien work.
Chapter One: Elvalaniel
I feel like a lot of people think me stupid. This is not the case. I am strong. I am powerful. I may not know what I am doing but I am certain I am smart enough to be able to figure it out.
I grew up in a small village just on the outskirts of the woodland realm, the kingdom of Mirkwood, home to the Great Eleven King. I had heard humors about the heart of Mirkwood, where the king held his court. It is suppose to beautiful, vast gardens inside a deep cavern system that stretched for mile. Meanwhile, its once thriving forest faded into the darkness. The once lush forest that surrounded my home has become filled with orcs and spiders. Spiders have started to make frequent attacks on the surrounding villages. Sooner later, we knew they would attack our village. It was only a matter of time.
The attack never came; instead troops of Elves came galloping on tall black stallions in shining gold armor.
"Henceforth today, by order of the King, all citizens who live outside the protection of the palace shall be relocated there temporary until the darkness of our forest it cured!" proclaimed the captain of the troops. This was a serious shock. Our king who had never set forth inside our quaint little village couldn't command us to move. Could he?
"Nanth, is this true?" I inquired. "Does the king have the power to do this?"
"I'm afraid so, Elvalaniel. He is our king, we must respect his decision. It must be worst than we thought. The forest is no longer a safe place to live. I think it would be best to pack right away. We must hurry. I fear we do not have long." My mother said as she reassured me.
She spoke the truth. The castle guards had given us a fortnight to secure our homes and belongings. Taking one last glace, I said goodbye to my home. I knew that I would not see it for many lifetimes. I feared I would never see it again. With my mother at my side, we were trucking deep through the forest towards the palace of Mirkwood.
I had never thought I would behold the castle in my many lifetimes. The king does not like having people enter his home, even his own people. There is only a handful of residence that lives in the palace, regardless of the empty rooms. From what my mother has told me, the palace was filled with warmth and with the laughter Great king Oropher and his Queen. They had Thranduil, who was a child that was raised to be a fierce warrior. He was a prince loved by all. The palace was a warm and happy place filled with lush gardens that shined in the light that peaked into the caverns. Thranduil brought life into the palace. Things were good, until the Battle of Dagorlad, where the Great King fell. With his death came sorrow. His beautiful queen tried to remain strong for her son. She saw his coronation and she knew he would be a great king. With the newly crowned king, she faded. She could not look at her son without seeing her one true love. It became too much to bear. The loss of his mother was too much for the young king. The once happy prince turned cold and cold he has remained for the last two thousand years.