Prologue
TA 2770
As Thranduil stood watching the Dwarves flee the mountain, he gripped the reins of his Elk tightly. Piercing blue eyes landing on the young Dwarf prince calling out for his help. But glancing behind him, Thranduil knew he could not risk the lives of his people for a lost cause against the fire drake. With a heavy heart, the Elven King turned away from the scene below and called for his people to head back to Greenwood the Great. The journey back to his kingdom was silent and mournful of the fall of a mighty kingdom. And though some of the Elves may have mourned the losses Dale and Erebor suffered, Thranduil was mourning his chance at ever reclaiming the white gems of starlight that now laid in the Smaug's treasure horde. Alas, there was hope. For as he thought of these precious gems, the Lady Galadriel's words from a meeting this summer past were brought to light. In a hundred and seventy-seven years, an elleth would be chosen by the Valar in a time when she was needed most. Such a wait was nothing to an Elf. And wait he would. A hundred and seventy-seven years would pass quickly for his kin. Yet elsewhere, at this precise moment, in the safety of the Golden Woods, the cries of a newborn elfling echo through Lothlorien. Lifting the spirits of the Elves who reside there. Elflings were a rare blessing. And to hear the cries of a newborn elfling was heartwarming for the Elves. For one day, the sound of these cries would become innocent laughter with precious smiles the elfling grew and ran about the safe haven of the forest. Unaware of the fate that awaited her once she was older.