This is the prologue to my AU set story 'Saltwater Rain' which is Part 1of a feature set named 'A New Song'.
This short story is (one of) my interpretation(s) of what happened to Thranduil's Queen.
Chapter 1
The final battles of the Last Alliance were victorious against the Dark Lord Sauron and his forces from Barad-dûr. In the year 3441 of the Third Age of the Sun, the remnants of the armies of the Wood-Elves began their journey home.
Heavy were the hearts of these warriors, for they had lost many. Their leader Oropher was slain in 3434 at the battle of Dagorlad along with two thirds of his army. Sauron met defeat on that day but was not destroyed until seven long years later following a great siege where again, more were lost. The High King of the Noldo – Gil Galad fell along with the King of Gondor and Arnor; the Númenórean Elendil. The alliance was broken.
Oropher's son Thranduil was now King of the Wood-elves and he led them with sorrow and pride home to Greenwood.
He made an oath to himself on that long trek to the familiar Northern stretches of his forest realm… Thranduil vowed that never again would his people be so poorly matched in battle or so under-equipped. They would become great fighters and their home would be protected and offer protection at all costs. Thranduil invoked all the elvish magic he could and wrapped the energy and strength of millennia into making Greenwood truly Great.
As soon as they arrived home, the elves spent little time grieving and all their infinite time building. Dwarves were hired to help Thranduil delve deep into the ground and the Elven Kings Halls were formed in caves fashioned after those of Menegroth in Doriath. Thranduil used elven magic to protect his realm and the Silvan and Sindar elves merged to become one people under the King. They were suspicious and unwelcoming in later years but never again did they suffer the losses in battle as they did at the Battle of Dagorland.
*****
The Third Age of the Sun began and life in Greenwood the Great was finally secure. It was at this time that a young Silvan she-elf came to reside in the underground dwellings of Thranduil. Her name was Hithiel and as soon as Thranduil laid eyes on her he was enraptured.
This she-elf was as fair as most and Thranduil had certainly entertained the idea of courting far more beautiful maidens. Hithiel was different to him for many reasons. She was not unusual in appearance but was blessed with an abundance of mahogany tresses, which flamed in red when the sun caught in its length. Her eyes were a stormy grey and it was in their depths that Thranduil gazed and was lost one busy morning.
Hithiel had been occupied talking to the carvers who were working on the intricate patterns inlaid onto the gates of the Elven Kings Halls. The sun rose slowly that morning and was a perfect golden orb to behold. Thranduil had been inspecting the ongoing tasks of his construction and it was her demeanour that first caught his attention.
Hithiel was mocking his finest carver. Torfir was a skilled woodworker and artist. He was allowing Hithiel to jest with him for one reason only; he was her father.
"Ada, you have lost your skill! I can tell quite clearly that shape is not a peacock!"
"Ai! Selleth nin1, will you never cease your commentary?" he exclaimed "I know how a peacock should be shown, am I not the master wood-carver?"
"Oh quite, Ada" she pretended to be genuine in her tone.
"And have I not done this same carving for you a thousand times as representing your favourite bird?" he reminded her
"'Tis true, my master carver" she acknowledged sardonically, thinking of her chambers and the many peacock images her father had provided to please her.
"Then hush you incessant mocking!" he laughed, "Be gone to your mother! I take my leave of you!"
Thranduil listened to them banter from a short distance away and smiled to himself. The young she-elf laughed gaily and all but skipped away from her father. As she was passing Thranduil, who was leaning in a lazy manner against a wooden scaffolding structure, she winked and smiled.
He caught himself in her gaze and never thought of any other maiden from that moment onwards.
1 Selleth nin – my maiden/girl (young)
*****
Hithiel was flattered by his attentions and Thranduil made every effort to secure the affections of the she-elf. He began by presenting her with her own live pet peacock.
"What shall you name him, meleth nin2?" he murmured in her ear
"I shall call him Luinmir" she declared "For I have never seen such a shade of blue as on his plumage!"
Thranduil laughed, a sound the wood-elves had seldom heard over the years. He was standing over Hithiel's shoulder, using the opportunity to inhale her scent and admire her tipped ears – which were currently a delicate shade of pink. Thranduil noticed her pout.
"My King, will Luinmir not be melancholy?" she asked
"How so?"
"Well, here he is, a glorious specimen with no females to rouse his feathers!" she teased, "May we not acquire him some companions?" and the twinkle in her eyes roused something in Thranduil also
"You shall have anything you wish…Peahens included," he drawled.
Hithiel turned to him and allowed the golden haired King a chaste kiss. Thranduil smiled into her lips and nipped lightly until she opened her mouth and succumbed to the deeper, passionate exploration he had in mind.
2 meleth nin = my love
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