The Preservation of Thranduil
"Courage is not knowing when to take a life, but when to spare it." - Gandalf
Chapter 1:Small Chest of Wonders
It had not been more than three months since the battle of the Five Armies, King Thranduil proudly led his victorious men back towards Mirkwood, riding tall on his steed with his silvery armor glistening in the Middle Earth Sun. They had buried their dead alongside the dwarves and men; a fitting end to have such unity. They had mourned with the dwarves and all the men before they had eagerly taken a fair share of treasure for their troubles. Thranduil was absolutely giddy about the new acquisitions he'd been allowed to take, the only other emotion he bore besides the sorrow for the loss of his kindred and relief of not losing his precious son. One of the items was an abnormally large chest filled with strange white gold coins and several pale gems, or at least that what it had held when he had opened and admired it. The top of the chest had an odd marking with a wheel and several odd symbols in it. Neither he nor Gandalf recognized them right off, but Thranduil could care less about the chest; its contents were what he truly wanted and they would be small comfort for the loss of life and continued infestation of his kingdom to the south.
As the group made camp the first night, Thranduil eagerly took the chest into his tent and, after leaving for a pleasant meal with his son and the other warriors under the stars, he ordered one of the unlucky traveling servants to go and polish all the coins she could in the chest. She looked terribly pale and weary and the kind Elvenking gently reminded her of how lovely and loyal she was. Renewed by his compliment, the girl set to work as the king strode out of the tent. Music rang through the edge of the forest, as did the aromas of meats and breads, and fresh flowers. As Thranduil sat listening to the wonderful songs and drinking wine with his beloved Legolas, who was smiling reservedly, there suddenly came a raucous from The Elvenking's tent.
"A monster! A monster!" the servant cried as she ran from the tent shrieking. The entire host of elves stood.
Thranduil looked very perplexed and ordered his closest guards, Tauriel at the head, and son to follow. Legolas caught hold of the servant quickly and gently tried to calm her and ask her about the ordeal. She frantically claimed there was a beast in the gold. Confused, Thranduil halted and asked her to describe the beast. She painted an image with fevered words of a strange goblin bird, coloured like blood but with the pale gems for eyes and sharp teeth as if it were some kind of snake owl. The king's men hurried in and searched the tent after the chest itself and found nothing. Thranduil, followed closely by Legolas, entered, but all they found was a curious raccoon feeding on the king's private store of fruit. Thranduil sighed and took the servant tenderly by the arm.
"The horrors of war have taken too great a toll on such a delicate maiden," he said reassuringly. He called for the healers at once who led her to a tent for the wounded. "See that she rests and has good, clear water in her as well." The servant trembled, but followed the healers, still convinced at what she had seen. Thranduil turned to Legolas who shook his head. He placed a hand on his young son's shoulder. "Try to keep her mind on other things; go and sit with her and deter her from thoughts about such a creature."
Legolas nodded and hurried off to obey his father. Thranduil sighed and made sure that the raccoon had taken all the fruit it wanted before beginning to retire for the evening. He glanced over at the chest and gently lifted the lid. Shimmering pale gold and pale gems, nothing more. He sighed and slipped into bed welcoming a well-deserved sleep. As night passed and Thranduil slept, he thought he saw a very strange owl sitting in the tent on a post . . . but with a long tail. He sat bolt upright and looked around, lighting a candle with magic and scanning the area. Nothing. He shook himself awake and dismissed it as having had too much meat and wine.
After the king's head lay back against the pillow, the creature climbed off the top of the canopy and scurried down the pole. It stopped and stared at the king for a moment, shuddering its head and tail for a moment and then hurrying back to the chest. It slipped in quickly and buried itself cautiously in the gold and gems, the lid closed with only a light 'thump' not even loud enough to wake the keen ears of the prince or king. Thranduil groaned in his sleep and shook away thoughts of creatures, war, and loss. The creature in the chest poked its snout out through the lid once more and sniffed carefully; yes, it was safe here. It smelled strange compared to the dank corners of Erebor, but she much preferred this and the fair creature sleeping not far away. Her crystalline eyes blinked a few times before she slipped her snout back into the chest and fell fast asleep.