(Author's Note: Chapter 1! I hope you enjoy! I promise there will be more Thranduil in the next chapter, but you know, gotta get started somehow. :))
Miridian Firechisler sat by the window in her small house, and looked out at the forest. It was alive with the chirping of birds and the sun shining down on every detail. The leaves on the trees blew in the wind and Miridian inhaled the scent of Mirkwood's forest. It smelled divine; much like it once did in Erebor. Mirkwood was breathtakingly beautiful; the forest, the craftsmanship of the villages, especially the palace. Miridian had lived in Mirkwood for quite some time now, after Erebor had been demolished by the dragon Smaug. She and her father had escaped the ruin and were on the run for days. They had to sneak into Mirkwood, for Miridian's father was a dwarf, and the elves did not like dwarves. Miridian got them in, looking like an elf as she did. Her mother was an elf, and she had passed on her elven traits to Miridian. Miridian was the one to go out into the villages and get supplies; she was the one her father sent to deliver his work.
Miridian's father was Dragolith Firechisler, an extremely skilled silversmith. Miridian believed her father could craft anything out of silver or fine gems. He had made it his trade when they came to Mirkwood and it served him well; so long as no one knew he was a dwarf. Therefore, Miridian's task was to deliver her father's crafts to customers that had ordered. He was now known as the best silversmith in all of the kingdom, and they lived peacefully.
It was only Miridian and her father that lived in their house. Miridian's mother, Aglondis, was killed in the fiery attack that destroyed Erebor. Dragolith was all she had left. She hoped with all her being that the great Thorin Oakenshield and his army of adventurous dwarves—and one hobbit—would succeed in their endeavor to take Erebor back and slay the horrid beast Smaug. She knew that the Elven King of Mirkwood had imprisoned them, and she secretly prayed for their escape. She wanted to go home.
As Miridian thought of the king, a smile crossed her face. She had very pleasant news for her father today. A few elves had come to her in the village earlier, and they had been dressed expensively. They claimed to be guards of the Mirkwood palace and asked about her father. She told them of his magnificent work and tried her best to build him up; for a job with the king would be most respectable. She also told them of his preference to remain anonymous; and after some careful consideration from the guards, just as she had hoped; they offered the job to her to tell her father. And she would.
Miridian decided she would go to the stream. It was nearly noon, and she always fetched the water at noon so her father would come home and have something to drink. He had gone out to get supplies this morning, and when he returned, Miridian would give him the wonderful news. She grabbed a large bowl and exited her cottage, making her way through the forest to the nearest stream. The water ran westward down a small hill, and Miridian knelt to the ground to reach her bowl into the stream.
Just then, she heard a rustling of bushes nearby her. She supposed it was a hunter elf; they often crossed the trail that was adjacent to the running stream. But this time, she did not hear them pass. Instead they stopped. She felt eyes on her and turned around, not to see hunter elves, but instead to see King Thranduil. He was mounted on a gorgeous white horse, and he was looking her right in the eyes.
Miridian was speechless. She didn't know what to say, or if she should say anything. What could one say to the King? She was also surprised at how beautiful he was. Long white hair fell perfectly down his shoulders, and his skin was flawless. His jade eyes looked into hers as if they were searching for something; something Miridian couldn't place by looking at him. She was already on her knees, or she would have knelt down to his majesty, but all she could do was sit there and let the King stare at her. He suddenly gave her a subtle smile.
"What is a young elf like you doing out at this time?" he asked. "I do not usually come across anyone during my midday rides through the forest."
Miridian didn't know if that was just a question or an implication that she wasn't supposed to be out during these 'midday rides through the forest'. She cleared her throat.
"Oh, my lord I am very sorry. I was just retrieving water; I will go now." She started to get up, but the King raised a hand at her. She stopped.
"I did not order you to leave," he said. He smiled at her and nodded at the water. "You may continue. I was simply admiring you."
Miridian tripped over the King's last sentence. Admiring her? The King had been admiring her? Miridian smiled back at him and shyly got back to her work. She felt herself blush as she heard him ride off. A compliment like that from the King meant very much in Mirkwood.
...
She was the most beautiful creature Thranduil had ever seen in all his life. Her hair was unlike other elves; instead of white or dark brown, it was golden. Golden waves cascading down her back like a waterfall, and when she turned to look at him, he found her eyes even more intriguing. They were very large, and a beautiful shade of chestnut. Her face was full of innocence and youth; and Thranduil could not keep himself from studying her. It was a pleasant thing; he did not usually encounter much of anyone this time of day, when he searched the forest for the deadly spiders that would surely prey on his people.
Although he sensed her nervousness about him. He let her continue her work of fetching water, and only stayed for another moment before he commanded his horse walk on again. He wished he had asked for her name; he would have liked to know who she was. A beautiful elf like that would most likely have a beautiful name to match.
When Thranduil arrived back at the palace, he was greeted by his son's female warrior companion Tauriel. She bowed to him and he nodded to her, dismounting his horse and handing the reigns to a servant.
"May I ask what happened to you, my lord?" asked Tauriel.
"Whatever do you mean?" he replied, both of them walking down the hall.
"You look as if you have been enchanted," she said with a smile. Thranduil looked at her.
"Even if I have that is none of your concern," he said.
"Very well," said Tauriel, still smiling. Just then, a few guards approached the King and knelt before him. Tauriel walked on.
"My lord," began a guard. "We have yet to contact the silversmith about your weapons. If you would kindly take the time to describe what you want him to craft, we would be most grateful." Thranduil lifted his hand, telling the guards to rise. He began walking again, and they followed.
"I want two swords made of silver and another two made of silver and the white gems from the mountain. They should be carved with the crest of my father and sharpened to a fine angle. I expect them to be thin and light to carry. I also want a set of five intricately designed daggers of the same quality. The sword sheaths are to be made of silver as well; one for each sword."
"But my lord, the white gems are guarded by the dragon Smaug," said a guard.
"I am aware. For that we will have to wait. But nonetheless, I want it recorded in the order."
"Yes, your majesty." The guards left to do as he said, and Thranduil made his way to his chambers. He was beginning to get annoyed that the image of the woman he had met in the forest had not left his mind. He had more important matters to attend to, and she was clouding his head with her beauty. The King found himself drawn to her. But he shut the thoughts of her out of his mind. He had no time for such petty emotion.
…
"Oh father, you're home!" Miridian exclaimed when her father entered their cottage. She threw her arms around him and he gave a hearty laugh.
"Yes my daughter! What have you been up to today, you look as if you've seen a ghost!" Dragolith set his pack on the table and looked at his daughter.
"Oh father, the most magnificent thing has happened!" she exclaimed.
"Well what is it, girl?" asked Dragolith.
"I have gotten you a job for the King!" Dragolith's mouth hung agape as he processed the words his daughter just said. She stood there smiling, waiting for her father's reaction. He smiled so big, Miridian almost thought he would burst. He wrapped her in a big bear hug.
"Oh my daughter, these are truly blessed days! How did you do it?"
"Some of the King's guards had heard you were the best in the land and they approached me to tell me the news!"
"Miridian, you are a treasure. Your mother would be very proud." Dragolith began taking his newly acquired supplies out of his pack, and Miridian remembered something else she wanted to tell him.
"Father, I almost forgot to mention that when I was at the spring today, the King spoke to me." Dragolith turned to look at Miridian.
"The King himself?" he asked. She nodded.
"Yes, he said he was on his midday ride through the forest, and he mentioned…"
"Yes?"
"…Well he said he was admiring me." Dragolith smiled.
"That is quite the compliment; you are a very beautiful girl." Miridian blushed.
"But from the King! …He is quite beautiful himself."
"You're fond of him," said her father, smirking.
"Oh please Father, I hardly know him."
"But you will get to know him. You will be delivering his crafts." Miridian looked bashfully at the floor.
"I suppose."
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Miridian looked to her father, letting him know to disappear when she opened the door, in order to keep his dwarf identity a secret. Dragolith nodded, and hurried into the back room. Miridian opened the door to two elves that looked like they worked for the king. They wore expensive jeweled clothing and shiny armor, and Miridian smiled shyly at them.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" she squeaked, intimidated by their size and hard expressions.
"Yes ma'am, we are here to deliver the King's order to the silversmith," said the one on the left.
"Oh yes," said Miridian. "Just let me fetch some paper and I will record the order." She retrieved some paper and a feather quill from the wooden table and hurried back to the door. She nodded to the men.
They repeated the King's order to her, and Miridian almost felt sorry for her father; he would be busy. The order was large, and she worried how much time they had to get it done.
"When must the order be in?" she asked the two elves.
"As soon as possible," the one on the right replied.
"Does the King want them delivered together when they are all finished, or each one as it is completed?"
"Each one, as they are completed." Miridian smiled at the elves.
"We will get them to his majesty as soon as possible," she said, and bid them goodbye as she shut the door. She called for her father and handed him the piece of paper she had written the order on.
"From the King?" he asked. She nodded. Dragolith smiled and looked up at his daughter.
"This is more than I could have ever imagined, Miridian. I am proud of you." Miridian smiled as her father left to begin his work.
That night, as Miridian lied in her bed, she thought of the King. She had only spoken a few words to him, but she couldn't forget the way he smiled at her and the regal aura that surrounded him. She looked forward to delivering her father's work; she wanted to see him again. Just to look upon him. Miridian would not have admitted it; but she was beginning to grow very fond of King Thranduil.
