When the warriors rode out, Thranduil called for Elarinya to ride up front by his side- if she wished- not caring if anyone thought it strange. They talked about the war events at first, and he filled her in about the details of the battles she had been far away from.
"But otherwise, you surely know all about my story." He finished. "Will you tell me yours?"
Elarinya looked straight ahead for some time before beginning. "My family went to stay near the southern boarders of Greenwood with my mother's cousin. We thought it would be safer there than anywhere else we could go. But we were attacked and there was a battle. Sauron's forces nearly destroyed the entire area." She paused, her voice low and quiet. "Both my parents were killed that night."
Thranduil glanced over at her quickly, surprised and empathetic. "I am so sorry." He told her, his voice soft. He felt terrible now for just letting her comfort him the night before, when he hadn't even asked about her own problems. Surely he should have realized there would be some, she was a high born elf now working as a war nurse, it was unlikely she made that decision for trivial reasons.
"So, then I decided to do whatever I could in the war. I saw few other options, and if nowhere was safe, I wanted to be doing everything I could to help."
Thranduil looked at her with respect, knowing how hard it must have been for her to lose her family like that. "That was a brave decision." He said.
"No more brave than the decisions we all have been making throughout this war." Elarinya said, equally softly. "I miss them, as I'm sure you do your parents…"
Thranduil didn't know what to say as she trailed off, not wanting to talk more about it in front of the war generals and his advisors who were riding close to them, but not sure it was a good time to change the subject either. His thoughts turned to the same hopelessness that had plagued him since his father's death, thinking of all everyone had lost, not just him. He could feel that hopelessness emanating off the warriors around and behind him too; heading away from a devastating war was hard, but they all knew they would be returning to find more devastation at home as well.
"We should sing." Elarinya said suddenly.
Thranduil looked at her in surprise.
"You have songs to sing riding into battle, do you not? To keep spirits up? Maybe it would be helpful to sing songs of home, to remind us what this war was fought for and to give us hope of what we may rebuild once we return."
Thranduil turned his blue eyes to hers and smiled. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. Will you begin?"
Elarinya thought for a moment and began an old song of Greenwood that they would all know, telling of trees under sun growing tall and lush in the early days of the Elves coming, before any evil had touched their home or their history, of Greenwood the Great.
Thranduil rode in silence just listening at first to her clear and beautiful voice as other elves behind them started to join in. All elves had good singing voices, and all Wood-Elves loved singing and telling tales, so it was not an odd thing that Elarinya had a beautiful voice. But to Thranduil it was especially beautiful, and he listened mesmerized for a good while to her voice before joining in. Beside her he felt that his own voice was rough and his words were clumsy. He had never felt he had a particularly great singing voice, and it had now been long since he had used it. Elarinya beamed a genuine smile full of light at him the moment he joined in, though, and he couldn't help but feel hope begin toflow through him at her infectious spirit and at the memories of green trees and merrier times that the music washed over him.
The forests were becoming more familiar, and everyone felt a mix of emotions. Finally, they were only about a day's ride from Greenwood. Thranduil was visibly more nervous, as was everyone else.
At their last stop for a meal before they would arrive Thranduil was making final arrangements with Gondien, who had always been the King's closest advisor, and was also a respected war general.
"We shall make sure everyone who has nowhere to go gets help, until everyone gets back on their feet. Especially those who helped in the war, they may take refuge in the palace until further arrangements can be made." Thranduil said, his eyes on Elarinya a ways away.
They rode into the palace grounds around sunset to cheers and praise of a large crowd. Thranduil nodded his head politely again and again as they welcomed their new King, though he felt a lump rising in his throat of grief for the old one. The crowds were searching the soldiers' ranks; too, Thranduil knew everyone was searching for loved ones and kin. He felt his heart sink, knowing that two thirds of the army was gone, that a good number of people here would not be able to welcome home those that should be here. He could feel the franticness of the crowd; or maybe he just imagined it, but there was certainly sorrow for those who knew their loved ones were not coming home.
Finally they reached the palace entrance where the court and other elves were waiting. They all knelt to their new King when he dismounted.
"King Thranduil." Said high member of the court, Lithônion, who was in charge in the absence of the King or the Queen, coming towards him when the elves had stood. "Welcome home."
Thranduil nodded his head, the homecoming tinged with so much sorrow it felt little like a welcome.
"My mother…?" Thranduil asked, unable to ask of anything else first.
Lithônion's eyes saddened with grief. "The Queen passed three days ago, fading to grief. I am sorry."
Thranduil closed his eyes and reined in his emotions. Now was not his time to grieve. When that time would come, he knew not.
It was decided that the next day would be the commemoration for the old King and fallen warriors, and the crowning ceremony of the new King, Tonight other business affairs before would be taken care of. There was much for Thranduil to do; he had a lot to catch up on in the affairs of Greenwood during his absence, and plenty to see to about the rebuilding. With a small farewell smile at Elarinya, Thranduil was ushered inside by his advisors. They discussed matters over dinner and after, until Thranduil's head was spinning with exhaustion and far too many figures and politics for a new king to possibly remember. Finally the most important issues had been attended to or discussed, and Thranduil was able to get some rest. He ached for time to go walk amongst the trees alone, but now was not the time. So he headed to the King's chambers, where all his things were, taken care of for him. He walked through them slowly; everything seemed so familiar and yet so foreign, like they had belonged to a different elf. Though, he supposed, in a way they had.
The next morning dawned all too bright. Thranduil dressed in robes that had been made for this occasion, silver with intricate light green embroidery all over. Breakfast was too fast, ceremony preparations too fast, and the ceremonies themselves too long. After was time for a combination of a feast in his honor and still too many more matters that needed the King's attention. Still, it was good to be home in familiar surroundings, with his own people, and with those who had known him and his father for centuries. Thranduil supposed he was doing all right in his first day as King, but he could not shake his "What would Oropher do?" thoughts at every situation. He craved solitude among the forests, more than anything else.
Eventually that night, he finally got it. He walked through the trees singing softly and listening to the songs of the nature around him. Finally, he began to feel home. The trees seemed to be welcoming him, and free of the grief he felt from everyone else, the Elvenking was finally at peace. The moonlight wafted down softly through the leaves, just enough light to see by. Silver and green, like his robes today had been. He reached a place in the forest fare enough away to feel secluded, but not too far from the palace. Thranduil sat beneath a large tree and deeply inhaled the damp forest air, so wonderfully different from the acrid dust of Mordor. He sat in silence now, just listening, his thoughts running far away. Finally, he allowed himself time to grieve for his mother. He did not blame her for succumbing to grief at her father's death, most Elves did if they suffered the loss of a mate, but he wished she could have stayed a little longer, to help him now. At the very least he wished she could have stayed long enough to say good-bye to her only son. He sighed. It was no use wishing, his parents were together now in the Halls of Mandos. His thoughts turned to Elarinya. He was falling in love with her, he knew, and she might feel the same. She would make a great Queen; he already trusted her advice as much as his most senior advisors and she had helped him so far. She was good for him; her spirit had that unbreakable touch of positivity and hope that he lacked in his own. But his life would be too complicated for a while, and he hoped she would understand that. His first concerns right now needed to be as a King for his Kingdom, and he would not have enough time left over for personal matters for a while.