Thranduil was riding slowly along the path going through Greenwood the Great

Treacherous Paths

A/N: This is taken just before The Last Battle and just after Oropher established a realm in Greenwood. There is going to be a few mentioning's of events that took place in Elfling Mischief, so I suggest you read that first. But this not a direct sequel so if you feel you don't want to read that first then that's up to you, you won't lose yourself if you don't ;D. One last thing there is a line from LOTR, not exactly the same but very similar, I want to see if anyone can spot it, if you think you found it let me know.

Summary: Thranduil goes on a mission of his own but not everything goes according to plan.

Disclaimer: I do not own any places or characters of Tolkien's only the ones that are not recognisable.

Chapter 1

Thranduil was riding slowly along the path going through Greenwood the Great. His mission was to visit Laketown in a disguise so as to not reveal himself to be an elf. His father, king Oropher, did not know of this, he thought his son was going on a scouting mission, making sure there were no goblins in the near vicinity. Thranduil hated lying to his parents, his mother might have understood, but his father, on the other hand, would have forbade him from going, having no great love for the edain and did not want anything to do with their mortal neighbours. Thranduil knew that they could prove to be useful allies someday not to mention invaluable to trades. The only real challenging part was to be able to walk amongst them, learn their ways without foiling his cover.

Thranduil was fairly different to most elves in appearance. He was shorter than most and not likely to grow any taller; he was taller than his mother, Theliel, though, but only just. His father was a good head taller than him seemingly at times towering him. There were faint freckles lightly dusting his nose and cheeks almost invisible but still there on closer inspection. His skin tone was also slightly more tanned than the others. He wasn't even as lithe as everyone else, he might have been considered bulky amongst the elves, not to say that he was, his muscles were more developed from days of hard labour in helping to develop a kingdom in Greenwood, he was about the same build as the elves who worked in the smithies. His hair was spun gold with highlights from the sun, it grew just past his shoulders but the fringe was cut to come just below his jaw so when tied back it would still hang in his face. His entire appearance brought on speculation and rumours from the others, rumours that his mother might have slept with an edain. The rumours were finally put to rest when he began developing features from his father as well, mainly his sculpted cheek bones. The only explanation for his tanned and slightly freckled appearance was that he spent a lot of time out doors; not that that was strange with elves, since they practically existed outdoors, all that was come up was that he was exceptional. As he grew older, the ellyth would swoon over him for not only was he beautiful to look at he was also very handsome, one slow smile and glimpse from his piercing, sapphire eyes and any woman would practically fall at his feet.

Coming to the edge of the vast forest, Thranduil took a minute to admire the Misty Mountains and thinking of his best friend, lord Elrond, who lived to beyond those mountains. He longed to see him again but his father did everything in his power to allow them to see each other as little as possible, not only because of what he and his twin did so many years ago when he was an elfling but also because of the fact that he was a Noldo, and they were not to be associated with. Thinking of Elrond also brought back memories of Elros, his long lost gwador. He passed away years ago because of his chosen morality.

Shaking his head he spurred his magnificent horse into a gallop, "Noro lim, Barasath, we have a long road ahead of us still."

Barasath was indeed a great horse. His manner fitted with his name perfectly, Fiery Shadow, he had quite the temper and was loyal only to Thranduil, who was the only who could come near him, much less ride him. The stable-hands' nightmares were often haunted by this beast. Thranduil would stand and laugh while watching the poor hands try and control the horse, not even their elven tongues could sedate him. After he'd seen enough, Thranduil would relinquish the stable-hands of their task and handle Barasath as though he was nothing but a foul. Standing at an intimidating 17 hands; his colouring was pitch black right down to his humongous hooves. His tail and main were smooth and long, seldom having knots. Barasath's glossy coat was so black it would shine blue in the sunlight.

Barasath was a gift from his father when he reached his majority which was three days passed. He was now at the age where he was to find his soul mate. Even though just about every young elleth was vying for his attention he was not particularly interested at the moment, he preferred to just enjoy life while he still could but his father made that very hard by pressuring him so that he would produce an heir and prolong the line of Oropher.

Quickly they made their way to river that would lead them towards Laketown. The sun was lowering in the sky when they arrived at the water's edge. All of a sudden a black-feathered arrow flew and struck Thranduil on his right shoulder. The impact was so forceful that it knocked him off his horse.

From the ground he turned and looked up, "Oh no, just what I need – a run in with some witless goblins, adar is not going to be happy should he somehow hear about this." He muttered to himself. There were about ten goblins in this group; they must have been heading towards the mountains. Even though this particular band consisted of a few goblins he was still outnumbered.

Whipping out his arrows he began shooting as many as he could with careful aim. Still the ones that were shot were seemingly replaced by another two, "Impossible, there cannot be that many." Scanning around he noticed another group joining the first, "I don't think I will much care for the ending." His horse was standing next to him, ready to protect him once the goblins arrived, "Rima ten'ta, Barasath! Nurta!" The horse ignored him and stood his ground, "Asca! Before they come too close." The horse snorted and stared at him as though asking 'Do you really expect me flee? You have another thing coming.' Thranduil sighed, "I haven't got time for this, very well, stay but watch yourself, get help if I need it. And ONLY if I need it." The horse nodded happy he got his own way.

Once the goblins came too close to shoot any more arrows Thranduil pulled out his twin knives, the ones he won from Elrond and Elros in their little competition of archery. Thranduil screamed his war-cry, "Gurth gothrim lye!!" Not a split second later him and his faithful stead were in the midst of them fighting for their lives.

Thranduil hacked and slashed at any goblin that came within his proximity. He fought with a skill beyond comprehension and with a speed none could surpass. He might have been slightly bulky but he was still very much agile, quick and flexible.

Barasath bared his teeth at anyone who came too close followed by biting and kicking, he was determined to protect his master at whatever cost.

Thranduil came face to face with a larger goblin, no not a goblin, it was an orc, there were orcs in the ranks as well it seemed. Fighting hand to hand with the orc Thranduil did not notice one of the goblins creeping up behind him. His horse screamed to warn him. With lightning-speed reflexes he managed to push the orc away and turn to parry the attack, yet he was still not quick enough for the goblin still managed to bury its scimitar in his side on the left. Thranduil screamed in agony yet he carried on fighting even though his eyesight became hazy and his movements sluggish he could barely defend himself but he somehow managed to stop any weapon from hitting its target.

Due to the blood-loss and possible poison Thranduil felt his knees give was soon kneeling on the ground too weak to stand. The orc was leering down at him mere inches from his face, "Ready to die, elf? I shall enjoy ripping that pretty head from your shoulders and keep it as my trophy." The orc began guffawing, his rotten teeth glimmering ominously under the moonlight.

Thranduil calmly stared into the eyes of the orc and whispered sinisterly, "You will die before your stroke falls, Feuyaer." Then with a final effort he plunged both his knives into the hideous creature's throat. Thranduil grimaced when the black blood hit him directly in his face. While panting heavily he tried to raise himself off the ground, the fight was not yet over, after all, the small task proved to much for him at that moment and he collapsed again this time, though darkness swept over him and the last thing he heard before unconscious took over was the loud neighing of his horse.

Җ

A voice seemed to be echoing in the distant. He tried to make sense of it but could not even make out what the voice was saying. He tried to return to his unconscious state but the voice became persistent and he slowly began making words out, "Open your eyes and awaken."

Thranduil found the voice much nearer now and he also found that it was addressing him, "Pain." It was all he could manage to croak out." He heard soft footsteps growing softer then a little louder.

"Here, drink this." The same voice he heard commanded.

Eyes still closed Thranduil turned his head away, he was not sure what was being offered to him.

"I said drink." The voice spoke a little harshly, "It is merely water."

Thranduil still kept his eyes closed but he took hold of the canter that was being held towards his mouth. Feeling a soft yet slightly rough hand beneath his, he allowed the hand to assist him. After he took a sip, his head fell back to the ground again. Lying still for a moment memories were slowly coming back of the battle. Catching the person behind the voices off guard his eyes flew open he tried sitting up, "Barasath! Barasath! Where is he?"

"Easy! Easy, if you are talking about the horse, he's fine, merely a flesh wound on his right flank, nothing to worry about."

He felt hands forcefully holding him down, making sure he couldn't get up. Finally relenting he looked up to see who the stranger was that saved their lives. Definitely a woman, if the voice didn't give it away her figure sure did. Her hair was the colour of pure and startling silver as though made of mithril, only reaching the base of her neck. It was braided all around leaving a few loose strands to blow in the soft breeze. Her slightly almond shaped eyes were the unusual colour of violet, certainly a unique colour among the elves. The woman's shapely and full lips were the deepest of reds, making a rose look pale in comparison.

Thranduil observed her closer, as beautiful as she was he could see her eyes were hard and by the tones of her voice he could tell she was a little rough around the edges. He noticed that she seemed to be studying him as well albeit more suspiciously.

"Are you just going to sit there staring or are you going to tell me who you are, where you came from and what you are doing all the way out here in the middle of no where? Tula, hama neva i'aur" Her clipped tones brought him out of his trance.

"I could ask the same of you." That was his only response as he slowly made his way towards the fire she made.

"You could except I asked you first." She assisted him in sitting down.

"I come from Greenwood the Great, not far from here. My name is –"He faltered a bit, he wasn't sure he could trust her with his identity yet, "Erynion son of Naracion." He almost snickered at the name he gave his father even though he couldn't be closer to the truth, "I was on my way to the town of men – Laketown when I had a run in with the goblins."

"And you took quite the beating back there as well. Greenwood you say?"

"Aye. Mankoi lle irma sint?"

"No reason. Why would you want dealings with the mortals, they are nothing but trouble."

Thranduil let out a dry chuckle, "You sound just like my father. I am merely interested in them and want to learn more of their ways." At least there was a bit of truth in that.

"You seem to enjoy holding the truth back, don't you?"

Thranduil stared at her in shock, "What do you mean?"

"I have lived in the wild for years now; living like a ranger. I have only my instincts to help me survive; if I had not seen you or your horse in the centre of the skirmish I would've been able to avoid them entirely. I have learnt to see the unseen and detect the undetectable. You are almost convincing except that I know how to look for deception. I feel I can trust you but I cannot trust your answers. Oh, by the way, your fighting skills are excellent, you managed to kill quite a few of the goblins before going down. Lle maa quel."

The compliment at the end of her short speech took him slightly off guard – it seemed out of place with her. She obviously did not give praises randomly unless by her standards it was deserved, "Er, diole lle. Mani naa essa en lle?"

"Celebrial."

"Manke naa lle tuulo, Celebrial?" He loved how her name rolled off his tongue.

"Like you, I once came from Greenwood. I live out here in the wilds now." She answered softly, "My village was attacked by goblins, my parents were killed in the incident – I fled and ended up here ever since."

"Amin hiraetha. That must've been years ago for I had seen the ruins that are still there, it was the outermost village. We were told of it by the Sindarin elves, just after we arrived."

"You arrived?"

"We were one of the families that fled Menegroth with the new king to live in Greenwood – I'm one of the Silvan elves."

"I see. You were right, it was a long time ago; I was no more than twelve at the time. At a young age I was forced to fend for myself." Dark memories clouded her eyes, giving them a stormy look, "Aiya! I promised myself I'd forget about that day and move on with my life." She straightened her back and forced her resolve to come back into her steely façade, "Malia ten' vasa? I managed to catch a couple of conies while you were still out."

"Yes please. How long exactly was I out for?"

"Just over a day. You can be glad I know how to counteract the poison otherwise you would be on your way to the unknown by now."

"I owe you my thanks and my life."

"Forget about it."

"I cannot, you did an honourable deed when you could have just left me to the goblins."

Celebrial sneered, "I told you to forget about it, I will not have you grovelling at my feet in gratification."

Thranduil became offended, "So be it; have it your way. I was merely offering you my thanks."

"Amin uuma merna ta!"

Thranduil only huffed at that. An uncomfortable silence descended upon them, neither willing to break it. Barasath walked slowly towards the warmth of the fire, he sniffed at his master – checking to make sure he was alright. Thranduil distractedly stroked his nose taking comfort in the presence of his companion.

Celebrial suddenly broke the silence, "You owe a lot to him as well; he stood over you defending you until I arrived. He was also willing to let me get close to him just so that I could lift you onto his back."

"Then you have my thanks, Aratoamin. I should have a few sugar-cubes in my satchel." Untying the satchel from his belt he loosened the draw-string and offered two sugar-cubes to his horse who nibbled greedily from his hand, "Easy, mellon nin, savour them if you want them to last the entire trip." Chuckled Thranduil, the horse snorted obviously not happy with that proposition.

Celebrial watched them in silence not really sure what to make of their camaraderie, only that they would die for each other. Staring back into the fire she began her usual brooding, it was all one could do in the middle of no where with no one to talk to. She was not even sure how to associate with her newest companion, "You must sleep."

"Why? I have been asleep for just over a day and I don't take orders from you."

"You think I care. You need your rest in order to get well again. Do not get me wrong, I care nothing for your health, I only want you better is so that you can get out of my hair and leave me in peace."

"If you're so desperate to get rid of me then why not just up and leave." Normally he was very polite and easy-tempered but this woman was beginning to work on his nerves.

"Because this is my turf and you are in my territory." She said through clenched teeth.

"Well then, I'll leave you to what ever twisted devices you have and be on my way!" He slowly got up with the assistance from his faithful horse.

Celebrial was looking up at him, "Ha!! You would not last a day out there on your own without me not to mention the fact that you are injured and weak!"

"I'll have Barasath with me; he is swift and will bare me in all speed."

Celebrial let out a unelflike snort, "A whole lot of good that did you in the first place. Besides he will not be able to stop every weapon from striking you. You will die before you are even halfway to your destination and even if you do make it the humans will not help an elf out - they are too suspicious and would rather leave you to die."

"And here I thought you did not care." Thranduil's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Look, Erynion, despite what you make think, I will not have you die if I can help it, I would rather not live the rest of my life with your blood on my hands. So you either do as I say and get some rest or you just do not get well as soon as you would like. Personally I would hate to walk around with stitches longer than I have to."

Thranduil saw the reasoning behind her words and finally conceded even if it did hurt his pride quite a bit. He spread his cloak on the ground on the other side of the fire. He painfully laid down on it, "Tenna' tul're san'." All he got was a grunt in response.

Barasath, ever the faithful stead, went to lie down next to him offering him warmth. Thranduil wanted to turn and curl up into the horse but his wounds hindered him so he was forced to lie on his back. Due to his injuries and sheer exhaustion Thranduil fell asleep with his eyes closed.

Celebrial stared into the fire allowing the day's events to run through her mind. She did not know what to make of the elf. Sure he was handsome and had the cutest dimples on his cheeks every time he smiled but felt uncomfortable with him; probably because of her lack of association with others. Sighing, she stared at him through the flames; she could not understand why she could not get along with him. Would they even be able to make it through without killing each other at the bitter end? "I doubt it." She laughed ever so softly and carried on with her silent vigilance.

Җ

The sounds of nearby birds and the smell of food cooking brought him out of his deep slumber and into the world of wakefulness, "Mmmm, something smells delicious." Barasath whickered softly next to him. All Thranduil got was a glare from the other side of the fire that was now cooking breakfast, "Oio naa elealla alasse'" He said wryly and earned himself an even more piercing glare from her.

"Amin feuya ten' lle." Came the sharp retort.

"Ah, ever the charming one you are."

"Auta miqula orqu."

He did not know why, but Thranduil had the sudden urge to laugh at that.

Celebrial only ignored him and said, "I'm going to collect more firewood then I'm going to have the pleasure of checking and redressing your wounds, try not to miss me too much." In all seriousness she turned and walked away.

Thranduil began his speculating, 'So much for my attempt at being polite, has she always been like this?' For the first time he got a clear view of her physique as well the garb she wore. The clothes were not much to speak of: her attire was made from leather, the top half came just over breasts allowing her stomach to show quite a bit. Her pants were made of the same leather that went down all the way to her ankles. He saw how short she was, shorter than him and perhaps even shorter than his mother. Her stomach was well-toned with muscles showing through. Her arms were slender but Thranduil could see that they were also well-toned and probably carried a lot of strength in them. And like him she too had a slight tan.

After watching her go about her business he decided to wash his face in the nearby river, the least he could do was try to look presentable if nothing else. He wasn't sure why, though, it wasn't like she was going to even notice that his face was cleaner than the day before. He went to wash his face anyway and rinse his mouth out.

After inspecting the slight wound on his horse he went to the fire to watch the food, the last thing he wanted was to make Celebrial even grumpier by allowing breakfast to burn.

At that moment Celebrial returned with arms filled with wood. She casually dumped them into the fire. Thranduil had to move out the way of the flying sparks while muttering to himself.

"Antolle ulua sulrim. We'll eat first and then I'll have a look at your wounds."

Thranduil stifled a groan, the last thing he wanted was to be prodded and poked especially by a woman who made Sauron look like a kitten. He took his time in eating the leftovers from the night before, he really wasn't looking forward to the morning's session, and he would rather sit in boring, stuffy council all day.

"I am done, let us get this over with." The elleth's voice cut through his musings.

"I am not; I still have all this to eat." He raised his half-eaten coney and showed her how much meat there was still on it. Celebrial only looked at it in disdain then grabbed it out of his hand and flung it into the flames, "I hadn't finished that and you just wasted a good piece of meat."

"Does it look like I care? As long as you are under my care you will abide by rules and not take your time in eating. There is too much to do in a day to waste it on stuffing your face!"

"For one thing, I was not stuffing my face; I was enjoying the most important meal of the day and savouring the taste. Another thing, since when are you in charge any way?"

"In the wild you cannot afford the comfort of taking your time in eating so if you are not finished when I am then I'm throwing your food in the fire. I am in charge because you know nothing about survival and like I said before you would not last a day on your own."

Thranduil gave her a sour look; he was definitely not appreciating her attitude and normally it was a crime to speak to him thusly. He never felt more strongly about pulling rank than he did at that moment. How dare she speak to him with that manner and get away with it? Thranduil took a deep breath and counted to ten; just a few more days and they never have to see each other again.

"Do not just sit there; take off your vest and undershirt and lie down!"

Was just him or was the morning growing darker with their dark moods? Angrily he took his shirt and vest off and laid down in a huff on his cloak, "How long is this going to take?"

"That does not concern you. I will take as long as I feel necessary. By the way, this is the last morning you sleep in late, from tomorrow on you will be up before anor is."

She began peeling off his bandages, "Both wounds look better than the day before. No signs of infection." She did more prodding, "You don't seem to be in considerable pain and your stitches are still intact." Once she was satisfied she replaced the bandages, "There, that should hold till I have a look at your wounds tonight again."

Thranduil nodded; he honestly didn't know how to respond to her mood swings, one moment she was letting off steam the next she was all business, "What is on the agenda for the day?"

"We start by heading towards Laketown and do not stop till nightfall, these fields are infested with orcs and goblins from the Misty Mountains; I will not take my chances."

"You are coming with me, then?"

"All the way there, you might be able to make it back on your own if you don't have another run in with the orcs and goblins."

"I am flattered."

"Do not be, I am only going to make sure you do not get yourself killed. As I said before I do not care to have your blood on my hands. Despite what you think I am no orc"

"Fair enough, shall we break camp?"

"I thought you would never ask." Her response was filled with sarcasm. Getting up from her crouched position she went over and doused the fire, "Leave as little traces of camp as you can, goblins might try and follow us, losing their kind in battle does not sit well with them - especially a group that size."

Thranduil rose up from the ground and winced when his wounds protested. His shoulder and side were obviously still stiff which was to be expected. It would be a while yet before he could move with grace. He had a hard time bending to collect his things off the ground.

Celebrial noticed his pain and felt a touch of sympathy for him, "Go see to your horse, I'll do the cleaning up." To hide her charitable gesture she added, "I do not trust you to do a proper job, I would rather make sure the job is done thoroughly and that there would be no way to for them to trace us."

Thranduil smiled to himself. She obviously cared more than she would let on, but why would she hide that behind gruffness? Was she too afraid to care? That could be it – the reason why she never showed affection was because she was too afraid that if she did she would become too attached and he doubted that she could stand to lose another person she cared for. He shook his head in pity. No one deserved to live the way she did – too afraid to feel again. It was much easier to face the world with toughness. But then again they only knew each other for a day, who knew; maybe she was always sharp around the edges.

"Everything looks in place here. Let us get going." Celebrial spoke softly from behind him.

They followed the river upward certain that it would lead them to the town of men. They continued on in silence until the sun set below the horizon.

Җ

"We make camp here; it is too dark to go much further." Celebrial procured a flint and tinderbox and set about making a camp-fire, "We shall continue before dawn."

Thranduil relieved his horse of the small baggage that he brought. All it contained were spare clothes; lembas, dried meat and fruit and a decanter of water one that he intended to fill up with fresh water from the river.

Once the fire got going the two sat around it, "I hope you intend to share some of your food. It is too dangerous to go out hunting."

Thranduil looked at her with every intention of giving a sharp retort but thought against it. It will only cause them to bicker again and he had enough for one day. He got up and went scratching through his bag. Once he got two wafers of elven bread and some dried meat he took his previous place and handed Celebrial her share, "You know, you have not really told me anything of yourself only that your home and family were destroyed by the goblins. Tell me about your life before then."

"I will tell you only what I intend to and I do not intend to tell you about my past. You have your secrets and I have mine." She said bitterly.

'She is one tough nut to crack but I will not give up until she opens up. Keeping things bottled up cannot be good for anyone.' "Surely there is something you can tell me of yourself."

"Listen to me carefully; I have nothing to share with you. Everything you know about me is all you need to know – nothing more. If I wanted to give you my life-stories I would have done it sooner!"

"What are you so afraid of?"

In a flash she was on her feet and in Thranduil's face, "Why do you keep pushing me into telling you things that are none of your business?! Get it through your thick skull that I will not speak to you of my past and whatever else you want to know!! I am entitled to my secrets just as much as you are!!" With that she stormed off into the darkness.

"Celebrial!! Celebrial, come back!! It is too dangerous out there!! Celebrial, look I am –." It was too late; she had already disappeared into the gaping darkness, "Sorry." Thranduil was mentally berating himself. He was thoughtless in pushing her. But who knew she had such close boundaries? He thought it best that he got up and start searching for her before she ran into any trouble, "Come, Barasath, let us try and repair the damage I caused." He sighed and walked off into the night in search of one hot-tempered elleth.

Җ

Translations:

Barasath: Fiery Shadow

Edain: Elvish term for men

Elleth, ellyth: Elven woman, elven women

Gwador: A brother not of blood

Noro lim: Ride on

Rima ten'ta: Run for it

Nurta: Hide

Asca: Hurry

Gurth gothrim lye: Death to our foes

Feuyaer: Disgusting one

Tula, hama neva i'aur: Come, sit near the fire

Erynion: Of the woods

Naracion: Stern; harsh

Mankoi lle irma sint: Why do you want to know

Lle maa quel: You did well

diole lle: Thank you

Mani naa essa en lle: What's your name

Manke naa lle tuulo: Where are you from

Amin hiraetha: I'm sorry

Aiya: Oh

Malia ten' vasa: Care for some food

Amin uuma merna ta: I don't want it

Aratoamin: My champion

Mellon nin: My friend

Tenna' tul're san': Until tomorrow then

Oio naa elealla alasse': Ever is thy sight a joy

Amin feuya ten' lle: You disgust me

Auta miqula orqu: Go kiss an orc

Antolle ulua sulrim: Much wind pours from your mouth

Ride free, citizens.