Hello everyone! I know, I know - it's been a year since I posted my last story on here thinking that it would turn into a multi-chapter fic. Well, unfortunately after struggling with those characters and trying to make the story work I came to the conclusion that 'Beneath the Trees' was going to be a 'stand alone' work. HOWEVER, I have a new story to give you. It's a work in progress, but I wanted to at least get something out there.

Initially this started because I read "Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth" and was completely blown away by the story of Aegnor and Andreth - and it's tragic ending, in my opinion. Being unsatisfied and with plenty of "what if…" plot scenarios running through my head, I have set out to write a piece for you that does not keep to that particular cannon. So, what if Aegnor had decided to love Andreth - in every way - before departing to play his part in the Battle of Sudden Flame? How would history change?

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership to any works of the Tolkien Enterprise, New Line Cinema, or Sir Peter Jackson. Original characters (OCs) that are found in this work are asked to respectfully be used only with the author's permission. Reference websites used for translation and literary references will be listed at the end of chapters when necessary.

"His grief he will not forget; but it will not darken his heart, it will teach him wisdom."

J.R.R. Tolkien

Mirkwood, 2954 Third Age

The Elvenking Thranduil was the only person within the high-ceilinged council room, his tall and imposing figure standing before several detailed maps and reports that lay strewn upon the long table. It was well past the midnight hour and he had dismissed his advisors and the captains of the Woodland Guard. Many of the candles had burned themselves out, leaving the room of pale grey stone to be bathed in a deep golden glow from the amber lamps placed on the walls and hung from the ceiling. The son of Oropher sighed and allowed himself to massage the annoying ache growing in his temple, knowing full well it would not subside so easily. These meetings were becoming all too frequent; the particular nature of the incidents they had been deliberating on left the king feeling weary. His very fёa felt heavy with grief and worry. The Elvenking Thranduil was not one to let emotion interfere with his duty.

Grey-blue eyes known for their piercing glares and unyielding stares now gazed wearily at the foremost map that was bedecked with wooden markers painted red and blue. There were ten in all, each representing a single ellon or elleth that had been taken captive by some servants of the enemy over the past three years. The eight red markers were those elves they had found; all eight had been found dead. It was the manner of death coupled with the growing number of elves being waylaid that disturbed Thranduil the most. For the bodies of the elves they discovered showed no obvious signs of having been beaten, tortured, or brutalized. They had, however, all been killed in the same way: each had their throats slit in one deep, clean cut. The crime was so vile it made Thranduil's stomach churn and his blood boil to know such an atrocity was being occurring within his realm.

For all his attempts to protect his kin - more guards on patrols, set watches on all travelled roads and paths, escorts to and from Esgaroth - still these foul creatures managed to find the most vulnerable and attack quickly, taking their quarry with no trace left behind for the elves to follow.

When the most recent elleth had been declared lost to the enemy, Thranduil swallowed his pride and ego and wrote to both Lord Elrond and the Lady Galadriel for insight and counsel on his dire situation. Elrond offered strategic advice, but had no answer as to what was behind the cause of his disappearing kin:

"The attacks you have described to me are far too coordinated and concise to be the work of orcs or goblins. I fear some darker purpose lies behind them and perhaps a darker and more ruthless enemy."

The Lady Galadriel's reply in and of itself was no more helpful in Thranduil's eyes. She said nothing about who, or what, was responsible - or if she even knew. However, the Lady did give him some hope in the midst of the turmoil the Shadow sought to consume him with in her words:

"While I cannot leave my realm to come and aid you, I will send another in my stead. She is my kin and dear to my heart, and I would not send her on such an errand if I did not think her capable. This darkness that spreads from the East is familiar to us, as well as her. I will caution you not to question or pass judgment on her methods which may seem foreign and perhaps even untrustworthy to you who has not seen their like before. She has spent the past several hundred years abroad studying in Rhûn while gathering allies to our cause. I would ask for your patience as she readjusts to living in a court setting among her kin. At present, she is at your western border dealing with a dispute among the Woodmen and should arrive with her company within a fortnight of your receiving this message."

Since receiving the correspondence from the Lady Galadriel, the Elvenking had been pondering which elleth could possibly be capable of taking on such a complex situation. As one of the last remaining descendants of the House of Finwë, with her father and brothers all slain long ago fighting the darkness of Melkor and her daughter Celebrían having departed across the Sea to Valinor, the Lady Arwen was the only elleth that came to mind of that bloodline. While the daughter of Elrond was more than capable of holding her own against an enemy, she was more docile and had a preference for dwelling in the peace of Imladris while learning of the world from her father's renowned library and visiting guests. She had a kind heart and a sharp mind, but did not venture out to stave off the darkness that was spreading across Middle-Earth.

"Who?" Thranduil questioned aloud. "Who would willingly spend hundreds of years in Rhȗn among the Harad and Easterlings? Spend their days out in the wild when they are a descendant of the royal Ñoldor House of Finwë - when they should be in the court of their Lady…" Thranduil trailed off.

A memory floated to the surface of his mind of a time several millenia in the past. When he dwelt still in Eregion with his beloved wife, and a young Legolas. The Lady Galadriel, still known by many as Artanis, stood tall and fair clad in ivory silk with her long hair glowing like the sun itself.

Beside her stood an elleth and an ellon - twins. Both with hair of gold and profound eyes of a deep brown. The ellon had the hint of a grin on his thin lips, his high forehead wrinkled with amusement. His golden-blonde hair was almost wild in appearance. It was a stark contrast to the elleth whose locks had barely a wave, though hers shone with an array of color found in a king's hoard of golden treasures. Though he stood half a head taller than the elleth beside him, the two held themselves with a refined grace. The ellon had broad shoulders and a narrow waist; the definition in his arms belied his consistent training with the sword and bow. The elleth's raiment was of deep gold and crimson red. The simple girdle she wore settled on hips that were not typical of elleth; they had a noticeable, gentle curve. More striking than her garb was her smile, for it was warm and genuine. It set even the son of Oropher at ease.

And so he recalled his first meeting with the son and daughter of Prince Aegnor of House Finwë and the Lady Andreth of House Bëor - the Ñoldor elf prince and the mortal Wise-woman. The first half-elven children born in Middle-Earth: Baramdir and Ruivoreth.

TRANSLATIONS

Baramdir - Mother-name, meaning "fiery, eager hope." Name derived from the use of the meaning behind Aegnor's mother name of ("Fell Fire") and Lady Andreth's belief in amdir ("hope based on reason"). Lady Andreth's conversation with Finrod touches on the subject of amdir versus estel ("hope, trust").

Ruivoreth - After-name (ёpesse), meaning "inner mind of wildfire".

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