Hello readers. Yes, this is not an authors note. This is a new chapter of Apprentice. I've re read the current chapters, and after the last Hobbit film, have a new inspiration.

I am sorry to have been on such a long hiatus, but there are many reasons for it. I lost heart when the reviews all but stopped, because I spend a long time writing. I can spend hours on a chapter, rewriting it and checking for errors.

This time, I will be trying a new method. While, of course, I love whoever reviews, it is hard to want to update when you don't receive much feedback. I will now update, but only if we get a little more feedback. I do feel awkward asking for reviews, but any fellow writer will know how vital feedback is. It gives inspiration, ideas, and makes you want to write.

So...here's hoping things go better this time.

Its good to be back. This chapter will also provide a little bit of information on the past ten years since Ithilwen...well...ripped the kidnapper apart. It is somewhat of a filler, but I felt some build up was needed to get the fic going again.

Anything that needs an explanation will be at the end of the chapter. Any elvish dialogue will have translations at the end of the chapter, although you should understand fairly well what they are saying. Yes, there may be Tauriel, but I intend to give her more of a background and develop her better than in the films. She is a good character but deserved so much more. Oh, if we could get 5 reviews, or even more, that would be simply amazing. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and leave some feedback as to how you feel about the chapter.


The night was a quiet one, the only sounds being the quiet chirping of birds, and the soft crackling of the fire, which bathed the clearing in a warm, welcoming glow. Intently observing the flames, Ithilwen felt her body relax. There was something about the dancing flames that soothed her, kept her transfixed, kept her mind off of more...unsavory memories.

Watching from a safe distance, Gandalf sighed heavily. The two of them had barely spoken this entire journey thus far, and the wizard just could not understand why. He had tried everything in his power to get his beloved Ithilwen to open up to him, for them to return to the father-daughter bond which had once been so strong between them.

"Ithilwen?" Gandalf moved to sit closer to the fire.

When the she-elf did not respond, Gandalf fought back the annoyance. Dealing with a sufferer of such a post traumatic disorder, such as Ithilwen, required patience.

"Ithilwen?" Gandalf tried again.

"Hm?" Ithilwen lifted her head, the glaze disappearing from her bright eyes as they became clear once more.

"Are you alright?"

"...I'm fine."

"You haven't spoken to me throughout this journey. I was...worried for you."

"I am sorry, Gandalf."

"There is no need to apologize."

"I haven't been speaking...because I can never seem to find the right words."

"That's alright, my dear. You have made much progress since..." Gandalf stopped himself. He did not wish to trigger a flashback.

Not after the last time that some less than savory words had slipped from someone's mouth.


As the sun bore down, Ithilwen rose early once more. She had never been one for sleeping past the sunrise, a habit she had developed since that night four years ago. It was the third day of the week, which meant another sparring session with the twins. It was something she looked forward to immensely, for it took her mind off of...other things.

Dressing in plain trousers and a tattered tunic, Ithilwen began to tie back her hair, carefully braiding it. Her hair was only starting to go past her chest now...for three years, she had kept it cropped short, but...

Growing back her hair was one of the steps to her recovery. It would help her distance herself from the memory of the...traumatic events.

Fixing a stray strand behind her eight ear, Ithilwen pulled on the usual leather training armour, before heading down the halls of Rivendell.

In no time, she was in one of the quieter courtyards, where, as usual, Elladan and Elrohir waited. Seeing the elfling, who had become like a sister to them, the twins smiled widely.

After a brief conversation, the sparring began. Each holding a blunt sword, Elladan and Ithilwen began circling one another, each having secure stances. As they looked each other up and down, searching for an opening, Gandalf quietly took his seat next to Elrohir, nodding at Ithilwen. The wizard smiled warmly when the elfling flashed a grin, before returning to a stoic, concentrated expression.

Slightly surprised by the smile, rarely seen on the elfling, Elladan lowered his sword ever so slightly. Eyes widening, Ithilwen lunged, striking at Elladans torso. Taken aback, the elf stumbled backward. Ithilwen took several steps back, breathing out slowly, as the elf regained his footing.

"You let your guard down." Ithilwen laughed. Gandalf smiled again. It was wonderful to see she had made such progress.

"I will not let you-" Elladan was interrupted, as Ithilwen ran towards him.

He turned, the blunt edge of Ithilwen sword grazing his right arm, and struck back out. Ducking low, Ithilwen struck out at the back of the older elfs calves, forcing him forwards. Righting herself, Ithilwen jumped as the elf swiped low with his sword.

The two danced back and forth, the energy of their attacks increasing as the minutes ticked on. Several of the elves of Rivendell had paused in their passings to observe.

Ithilwen managed to gain the upper hand, and managed to strike consistent blows against her opponent, leaving many grazes and forming bruises. One would normally laugh at an older, male elf being beaten by a she elf much younger than he, but anyone would know that both were toughened fighters. Each of them were fighting admirably.

"You fight with...ferocity." Elladan narrowly parried a blow aimed at his left shoulder. "It is no wonder you left that man in such a state. Father told me...I remember how he described the scene. Its hard to believe one so little could do something quite so brutal."

Elladan realized what he had said, mere moments after he had spoken them. Horror filled his body, when he saw Ithilwen backing away from him. Reaching out, Elladan called her name. He had not wished to say such harsh words. As usual, he had let his mouth speak before his brain could tell him the words were unwise. The last thing he wished was to say such words to Ithilwen.

The she-elf had gripped her training sword with both hands, so hard that her knuckles were visibly turning white. Gritting her teeth, Ithilwen breathed heavily. Seeing the tension within her, Gandalf turned to the elves who had paused to observe. A sharp look from the wizard was enough to disperse the crowds.

Rising to his feet, Gandalf saw Elladan take a step back, as the sword in Ithilwen's hands shattered, turning into shimmering dust.

"Forgive me, Ithilwen. I did not mean to say such things." Elladan dared speak up.

Blinking, Ithilwen's head snapped up, with an audible click, to face Elladan. A shiver ran down the elder elf's spine, at the anger burning in her eyes. He knew that the slightest word could turn the situation into a worse state, so he took a single step forward.

Keeping an eye on Ithilwen, Gandalf too moved, so as to be somewhere between the two elves, watching cautiously from the sidelines. Should the situation decline, he would not hesitate to step in.

"My tongue sometimes moves before my brain tells me otherwise." Elladan made sure his smile was warm and welcoming, with not the slightest hint of nerves.

The ground beneath Elladan cracked slightly, causing the elf to sway slightly, and readjust his footing. Gandalf dared step closer to Ithilwen.

Elladan could clearly see that words would not reach the young elf, so he kept taking small steps forward, making sure he kept eye contact with the tense Ithilwen. She kept her stance rigid, and her eyes followed the slightest movement that the elder elf made.

Taking a chance, Elladan reached forward with both arms, moving as if to embrace Ithilwen. He hoped that this would reach through to the elfling.

But he was not graced with the chance. A slight glint passed through Ithilwen's wide eyes, and Elladan was thrown backwards, by an unseen force. The elf was catapulted through the air, until his brother caught his arm, and managed to pull him to the ground.
"Are you alright, Elladan?" Elrohir asked, only looking away from Ithilwen when Gandalf placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Perhaps a bit winded...but otherwise..." Elladan sat up, grimacing when he tasted iron in his mouth. "I am fine."

"You're bleeding." Elrohir's expression morphed into one of concern, seeing the blood run from his brothers nose. "It may be broken."

"That would not be the first time." Elladan attempted to alleviate Hus brother's worries.

Across from them, even with Gandalf kneeling in front of her, attempting to snap her out of her angered daze, Ithilwen had not taken her eyes off of Elladan. Taking a moment to focus, she saw the blood pouring from his nose, dripping onto his once pristine leather armour. She saw the hint of pain hidden in his eyes, masked by a familiar smile...and something...clicked.

Gandalf felt the shift in her energy, and so let her walk towards Elladan, yet having his hand on his staff, should he regrettably need to use it. Watching with cautious eyes, he looked on.

Elladan looked up when Ithilwen stood over him and his brother, and nearly breathed a sigh of relief, when he saw all the anger and tension had since vanished from her youthful face. The elfling knelt down in front of him, and, without a word, embraced Elladan, burying her head in his shoulder.

Smiling fondly, Elladan returned the embrace, and a few moments passed in silence, before the younger of the two spoke.

"Elladan?" Ithilwen's voice was strangely quiet.

"Yes?" Elladan looked down at her.

"I'm sorry."


Gandalf lent back on the tree behind him. That situation with Elladan, whilst it had been resolved, could have gone far worse. Gandalf dreaded what might have happened, had he not been there, but of course, would never say such a thing to his Apprentice. Some things were better left unsaid.

"How far...are we?" Ithilwen asked, pulling her cloak tighter.

"Well, we have been travelling for...two weeks. With the slight delay, with...Illusion... breaking an ankle during that tumble...and having to heal her." Gandalf looked up at Ithilwen, cleaning his pipe at the same time. "Another two, three days at most, until we reach the edge of Greenwood."

"Will we be visiting your friend?" Ithilwen asked, with a sense of curiosity.

"Hm?"

"Beorn. The skin-changer, you have mentioned him many times, and from what I remember, you told me he lives near the edge of Greenwood."

"Ah, yes, of course. Yet, it would have to be on our journey home, we must be at the elven kingdom within these next few days. There will have been alot of preparation towards welcoming us." Gandalf smiled, before looking over at Ithilwen, who had a concentrated look on her face. "Ithilwen? Is there something on your mind?"

"I suppose." Ithilwen admitted, stretching her arms. "What are the elves in Greenwood...like?"

"Haven't I told you this before?" Gandalf sounded confused.

"I don't believe so."

"Forgive me. Sometimes, my memory likes to play tricks on me."

"It's alright, Gandalf."

"Now...Greenwood elves. They are fairly different to their kin, to the elves of Rivendell. They are...perhaps a tad less wise, and more...dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"I believe you will get on well with them. I am certain you and the Prince will...get along well."

"They have royalty?"

"In a way, yes. Greenwood is quite a large kingdom."

"How many are there in the family? Aside from Gondor, I do not know of many places who are still led by a king or queen."

"There is the King, Thranduil, and his son, Legolas."

"Did something happen to the queen?"

"Yes. It was...I still feel sorrow thinking of her. She was killed by the Orcs of Angmar at Mount Gundabad."

"Well...that may be something this...Legolas and I have in common."

"Sadly, yes."

A few moments passed in silence, before Ithilwen sat up. She absentmindedly began rummaging through her travelling bag.

"What are you searching for?"

"I remembered something." Ithilwen looked worried for a moment, before she heaved a sigh of relief.

With a shy, nervous smile on her face, Ithilwen pulled an object out of her bag. Clearing her throat, she offered it to Gandalf. Placing down his pipe, the wizard accepted the object. Now, able to see it clearly, he found he was holding a beautifully crafted, dark grey, woolen scarf. It was meticulously made, with not a stitch out of place, a few silver threads woven into the design.

"You made this?" Gandalf asked Ithilwen.

"Arwen showed me how, but yes, I made this. It was my..." Ithilwen counted on her fingers. "Tenth attempt. I was wondering when to give it to you, but I thought that now was as good a time as any."

"It is wonderful, Ithilwen. Thank you."

Once Gandalf had wrapped the scarf around his neck, Ithilwen smiled, a warm, genuine smile.

"Now, I believe you should get some rest. If we leave just before dawn breaks, we may be able to reach the edge of Greenwood somewhat earlier.


Thankfully, the rest of the journey passed without incident. Whilst there were spells in which Ithilwen would not speak a word, it was a vast improvement to the silence of the first few days. With both horses almost flying with their speed, they reached the edge of Greenwood on the dawn of the next day. The lush trees loomed above them, forming a thick canopy. Standing at the entrance, were two carvings, etched in pure white stone, two elven women in long, flowing robes. The statues stood on either side of a round table, looking up to the archway that towered above them.

"Here we are. The entrance to Greenwood. Now, Ithilwen, as you know, we shall have to..." Gandalf started.

"We have to let Shadowfax and Illusion return to Rivendell, as the path is not suited for them." Ithilwen spoke in a monotone voice, before rolling her eyes. "You did explain this to me before we departed."

"I was simply reminding you."

"I see."

Once they had secured what they could carry on their backs, the two said a somewhat reluctant goodbye to the faithful horses, staying, and watching, until the two vanished beyond the horizon, and out of their sights. Satisfied that the steeds were well on their way, the two sorcerers turned to face the entrance to Greenwood once more.

"How long will it take us to navigate the path?" Ithilwen asked, when they began to venture along the stone pathway.

"If we move fast, and do not lose the path, we should be there mid-afternoon."

"Lose the path?"

"If you do not know the way, it can be difficult to find one's way."

"You do know the path, don't you, Gandalf?"

"Of course. Although it has been some time since my last visit, I have seen the kingdom of Greenwood the Great numerous times."


Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the thick canopy above them, dappling the ground with beautiful light patterns, illuminating the forest around them. Ithilwen marvelled, for the landscape was simply stunning. The pathway was well-lit by the sun from above, and reflected off of the many colourful flowers which littered the ground around them, almost lining the path. Having never ventured far from Rivendell, Ithilwen was speechless. Occasionally turning around, or climbing on top of objects to see farther, it felt wonderful to be immersed in the picturesque nature of Greenwood. Despite not having arrived at the kingdom, one could already see why it had gained the name 'Greenwood the Great'.

"I see you are enjoying yourself." Gandalf drew slightly on his pipe, a smoke ring drifting forth.

"This is...wonderful." Ithilwen admitted. "If this is a mere path, the kingdom itself must be a sight to behold."

"It is, indeed."

"How far are we?"

"Once we turn this corner, we should be able to see the entrance."

Learning this, Ithilwen immediately dropped all of her bags and belongings, before hastily tidying her silvery tunic, re-fastening her sleeves, and pulling up her collar.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"Making myself look more presentable."

"Ah. That is probably wise."

"Should I go and put on the gown?"

"Not yet. I would save that for after we arrive, and are settled."

Nodding, Ithilwen re-buttoned her black waistcoat, the silver buttons shining. Running her fingers through her hair, she then took time to smooth down her leggings, so there was barely a crease visible. Once satisfied that she was somewhat presentable, the elf gathered up her belongings once more, before walking off at a quickened pace round the corner, moving so quickly that Gandalf almost had to run to keep up. They did not pause, until they found themselves at the end of a bridge, which stretched over a beautifully clear river. Just beyond them, lay high walls, with wide, open doors. Two elves stood at either side of the door, each holding beautifully crafted blows. Once they had noticed the two sorcerers, and smiled widely, before turning, to walk inside the doors to the kingdom.

"Why must we wait here?" Ithilwen asked.

"It is courteous, and polite. Do the visitors to Rivendell not do the same?"

"They do."

A minute or two passed, Ithilwen continuously stretching and yawning, before the guard took his place once more. Another elf emerged, and began walking across the bridge to meet with them, silvery robes bearing a slight shimmer in the sunlight. As they got closer, Gandalf's smile widened.

"Ah, Legolas. It has been far too long. It is good to see you."

"It has been too long." Legolas accepted a hug from the elder wizard, before both took a step back and bowed their heads slightly as a sign of respect. "This is the...companion you spoke of in your letter?"

Ithilwen looked up, standing as straight as she could, and managed to look the elf prince in the eyes. She bowed her head in respect, as she had seen Gandalf do. When she was facing the prince once more, she swallowed.

"I am Ithilwen Olorin, Apprentice to Gandalf the Grey."


And so ends a new chapter. Here is some explanations:

Greenwood*- This story is many years before the events of the Hobbit, and so the dark sickness has not taken over thew forest. Therefore, it is still called Greenwood the Great.

Illusion*- She is Ithilwen's horse, if for some reason you did not realize that. For those wanting a description, she is completely black, with eyes a similar green to Ithilwen's. You only see the white or lighter colored horses in the movies, so I felt Ithilwen should have a different kind of horse.