-'What are you doing in my room?' she asked returning from the bath chambers.

A tall and handsome elf was standing near the window, looking to the gardens below. He turned towards her in a flowing movement, his long silver hair shining in the pale morning. Sonja could not read anything on his face or in his sharp blue eyes, no gesture, no emotion, like a soulless marble statue.

-'Your room?' the stranger asked. 'I thought the palace and all its rooms belong to the Elvenking', he added with an indifferent tone that only upset her even more.

-'Please leave!' she asked him, her voice masking a deep sadness that was in fact clearly apparent to the elf.

He did not reply to her plea and instead started to play with a few objects placed on the wooden desk near him. There were some strange objects that this human was carrying around with her, enough to stir his curious nature.

-'Don't touch that!' she spoke in a more demanding tone, rushing to grab something from his fair hands.

He felt surprised by her attitude and accidentally dropped the small box on the hard floor, shattering it into pieces.

-'No, no...' Sonja cried, dropping to her knees, near the damaged object.

Her voice sounded empty, as if she was dead. Her black eyes were filled with tears, staring absent at the box. She picked up the pieces with her gentle palms and pulled them closer to her chest. It was clear that the strange box had some great sentimental value to her.

The elf heard her mumbling a few incoherent words, her voice fading by the moment and being replaced by heartbreaking sobs. Her dark hair was flowing in rivers over her bare and skinny shoulders. He stared for a moment at the fragile human before him, not entirely certain how to react.

It's been a week since she first arrived to the palace, accompanied by her half-sister and brother in law. They were travelling west to meet some distant relatives when they heard of the remaining packs of orcs that roamed the forest road and were wise to take refuge inside the halls of Greenwood until the orc matter was dealt with by the elves. And while her two companions were most grateful for the hospitality they were offered, attending banquets, strolling the gardens and marvelling in the knowledge of the ancient library, Sonja had never left her room since she first set foot inside the palace. Her presence had almost gone unnoticed, but not to the wise King Thranduil who felt intrigued by it. How could anyone live so long in solitary?

Her sister told him that ever since the attack on their village almost a year ago, she had never been the same. The loss of her husband Brann and of other family members affected her beyond recovery. That is why they decided to take the journey west. A change in scenery might do them all good and help them chase away the memories of that tragic night.

The King decided he should meet for himself this broken and mysterious human so he strolled inside her chambers uninvited. There he was, a simple elf, having carefully removed his crown and other symbols of royalty, in order to not intimidate her further. Sonja had never met the King so she did not give a single thought for the way she was addressing the stranger that had invaded her room.

-'Get out!' she screamed at him, between her sobs. 'Oh no, Bran, no!' she continued to cry, clutching the pieces tighter and closer to her heart.

It was clearly a gift or reminder of her late husband. She was so shattered with grief, fragile and broken. For a brief moment the King's thoughts flew back to the day he lost his own wife and the immense guilt he had to bear in his heart ever since. He regretted deeply that he had broken the small box and reached for Sonja to try and console her. But before his hand could touch the back of her shoulder, he quickly pulled himself together and left the room without addressing another word, leaving her to her sorrows.


The large corridor was lit by tens of lanterns hanging from the high ceiling. Thranduil was pacing in silence towards his study. His morning visit had left a deeper impression on him that he would have expected, stirring up memories that he had fought so hard to bury during past centuries. He stopped on a small balcony overlooking his beloved forest, taking in the fresh air.

Now that Sauron had at last been defeated, the world was returning to its old self. Mirkwood was no more. The vast forest had been revived to its former glory, with the shadow losing its grasp over the land. The spiders and filth that once poisoned his kingdom were but a distant memory. The only creatures that still troubled both Elf and Man were the remaining orcs that had survived the War of the Ring, some 120 years ago. They were regrouping in the mountains at Gundabad, preparing to raise an army of their own.

The age of Men had finally arrived. Eldarion, the son of Aragorn and Arwen was now ruling over the unified kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor while most of the elves left for the undying lands across the sea, leaving the Greenwood as the sole Elven stronghold inhabited in Middle Earth. Even Thranduil's son, Legolas, was among those who chose to leave to Valinor. Thranduil was feeling now more alone than ever, but Middle Earth still needed him.

-'Ada!' he heard a voice calling behind him. He first thought it a dream, as it was not uncommon for him to daydream as of late and paid little importance to the voice.

-'Ada!' he heard the call again. This time he turned to look back into the large corridor.

Stepping out of the shadows cast by the grand stone columns, Legolas approached his father with open arms and crashed into his chest. A single tear fell across the King's pale cheek and he felt it salty in the corner of his mouth.

-'I couldn't go, Ada! Not yet', Legolas whispered as tears flooded his eyes.

Thranduil felt Legolas deeply troubled so he held him in silence for a few long minutes before addressing him:

-'Come sit with me, my son! You will tell me about your burdens. But Valar know I am glad to be able to see you one more time.'

The pair moved away from the balcony and into the study. It was a tall dark room lined with magnificent tapestries depicting famous battles of old. Near the window, there was a beautifully carved wooden desk together with a lavish chair and several book shelves filled with ancient manuscripts were framing it. They passed by it and entered the King's private chambers.

-'I have so much to tell you from my journey back here. So much has changed since the shadow was lifted. Ithilien too is as green as it was in the days of old. But I am sad, Ada, sad that I met no more elves roaming the roads of Middle Earth, as they once used to.'

-'Our time here is almost at an end, my son. Tell me, why did you postpone your leave?'

-'I was aboard the ship, ready to set sail. My eyes drifted away on the water's surface and then, the strangest thing happened to me. I heard a voice; it was soothing and warm, speaking to me from beneath the waves. The language was foreign to my years. It seemed very old, even older than Quenya. Though I could not understand the words, I felt a compelling need of returning back to shore. I don't know what happened to me at the harbour, Ada, but I know my time here is not done. I am still needed here for a higher purpose and until I find out what that is, I cannot allow myself leave from this place.'