Hi! This is my first fic for The Hobbit. I love Thranduil and this story keeps on going around my mind so I decided to write and post it here.
This story starts from the end of The Hobbit and goes through to LOTR. I would like to make it as Canon as possible but if you notice some deviation from the original stories, it is intentional to fit my plot. The story follows the movie and book verses both.
Happy reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own any works from the great Tolkien
A wizard is never late, and he arrives exactly when he means to. That was what Gandalf had been thinking for the past weeks as he raced across Middle Earth. He was willing to tempt fate once again in the hope to save thousands of lives in what he believed to be an impending awakening of the Darkness in the future.
Thorin and his company had managed to reclaim the Lonely Mountain and to destroy the dragon Smaug, but he feared that the Necromancer was not totally vanquished and would return soon with evil that could swallow all of the light in Middle Earth. Preparation would need to be made and allies need to be gathered. If he was wrong with his prediction, all would be well, but he would rather be prepared than lament his inaction.
Valaria, he thought, the last stronghold of the Valarian Elves. The Valarian elves were Varyan Elves from Valinor tasked by Yavannah and Aule themselves to restore beauty to Middle Earth after the onslaught of Morgoth. Valarian they were called for they came with the bidding and purpose from the Valar. They were given their task before the time of the Silmarils and the wars and grief it brought to the Elven race. So it be that after their purpose was fulfilled, they were beckoned and welcomed back to the Undying Lands.
It was this race of elves that filled Middle Earth once again with flora, gave the Shepherds of the Forest their duty, taught Men how to receive blessings from the soil, and asked beasts to aid Men, Elves, and Dwarves with their burdens. It is also with the teachings from Aule that the Valarian were able to impart upon the Dwarves the skill of their craft.
The Valarian loved all things bestowed with life and most of all, they loved the forests of Yavannah, and never did they tarry long in absence of their canopies.
To the first Men and Dwarves, the Valarian were teachers and mentors. Ever kind and beautiful beyond compare. The Valarian travelled to where their purpose led them, until they built their finest stronghold in the Southernmost part of Middle Earth after hunting down and slaying the ilk of the spider Ungoliant, so that she may never again set foot and spread darkness in that part of the world.
Though blessed with the beauty of the Varyan Elves, the Valarian were fierce fighters. Their soldiers laid waste to dark beings spread by Morgoth across Middle Earth. As it was the will of Varda that they restore light to places where the dark festered. With the aid of Dwarves, they made many fine weapons and strong armor from metals found under mountains and rock to battle the darkness. Due to the diligence and protection of the Valarian elves, the race of Men and Dwarves flourished.
And so, with the Darkness retreating to the far North and remaining unfound even with numerous attempts to rid Middle Earth of them all, the Valarian's purpose was held fulfilled by the Valar. One by one the Valarian were summoned back to Valinor.
All but one. Whose purpose was yet to be known and fulfilled.
Gandalf had hoped that he would be able to grant this last Valarian the chance to fulfill her purpose by agreeing to the quest he would lay before her. Though he too feared that he may as well be sending her to doom.
Gandalf berated himself. It was not a time for dark thoughts. Hope was what he needed. Hope was what they all needed, and Hope he wholeheartedly wished that he bring to her.
At last, the peaks of the watchtowers of Valaria were now seen above the trees. He was near, and near to finishing the first of his many tasks to prepare Middle Earth for the coming of the Dark. "My friend, for the last time in this journey, make haste!" He whispered to Shadowfax as white and grey sped through trees with white trunks and leaves of red, orange, and brown, for Valaria was in a constant cycle of only autumn or winter throughout the year.
The Valarian had cast the forest surrounding them a most powerful spell of protection, the perpetual autumn and winter represented the waxing and waning of the sacred trees of the Valar.
In contrast to the other races of Elves that adored starlight, the Valarian elves flourished under the golden warmth of the Sun. It is in this love, that Valaria was built using white stone harvested from cliffs and hills beside the shore further down south. The white stone absorbed the Sun's golden rays and warmth during the day, and at night the stronghold glowed gold in the dark and provided its inhabitants the warmth they needed.
Shadowfax whinnied upon arriving at the first gate of the stronghold. Its high and wide gateway warned beings of powerful magic that threatened any of those with ill intention trying to enter its sacred halls. The massive gates were always open now from when the mass exodus of the Valarian elves started as their purpose were deemed fulfilled by the Valar.
Gandalf dismounted and bade Shadowfax to wait for him at the gates. For it has been many years since his last visit and he can no longer say if the stronghold was safe or not. "We will be finding out soon enough my friend, if these halls still lay protected." Warily, Gandalf stepped inside the stronghold.
Through winding paths and stairs, Gandalf sought his quarry. It was not an easy task looking for one being inside an abandoned stronghold bigger than any city of Men. And so, through his wanderings, he came to stand in front of the palace. Its white walls, same as the rest of the city inside the stronghold were covered in moss, and vines. Their glow long ago diminished and forgotten. Its paths overrun by weeds and overgrowth.
It was here he hoped to find her. She who is the last of their kind. She who was left to fulfill a purpose still to be known. She who is to bring balance to the light and dark. She who was born to the noblest of the Valarian elves. Upon the sailing of the rulers of Valaria, her father and mother, she who was hailed as the youngest and the last Queen of the Valarian elves.
With a flash of white steel and a cold feeling at his neck, Gandalf halted his steps, turned to the shadowed hall to his right and bowed. "Though a sword to my neck would usually bring distress, I find that yours bring relief, Lady Laerienne."