The four elves stood facing one another in the King's office. Legolas spoke and the others listened, their faces grim. "What concerns me is that these orcs are coming from the north and the south yet they seem to be working together under one command."

The King listened closely to Legolas' words. The prince and his guards had been gone for five weeks and the news they brought back concerned him greatly.

"How large was the first group that you encountered?" Thranduil asked Legolas.

"The first group was small – 30 – but the second contingent was larger. 40 mountain orcs and 40 orcs wearing a white hand from the south. These southern orcs are different." He caught the eye of each elf. "They are stronger and smarter. More like men, but with the power of darkness upon them."

The elves were silent, each one pondering the gravity of Legolas' words.

"While you were gone, Legolas," began Feren, "I was patrolling our western march when we encountered a similar host of southern orcs. We killed most but spared one for questioning. He wore the white hand too, but we could not get him to say from whence he came. We suspect that the Dark Lord is breeding men with orcs in Mordor, yet when we confronted the prisoner with this, he laughed. He said we could not be more wrong, but he would not say whom he served or where was his master."

"If not the Dark Lord? Who could he be serving?" asked Legolas.

The ellyn remained quiet, each contemplating the riddle this news presented. Finally the King spoke.

"The Dark Lord has many lieutenants ever ready to do his bidding." His attention shifted towards the march warden. "Haldir, what of Lorien?"

Haldir raised his head and took a moment to gather his thoughts before answering. "It is as Legolas says. We have killed many orcs of the white hand. They are skilled fighters, unlike the goblins of the north that rely on numbers, and they also have strength and cunning. At first we thought they were coming from Dol Guldur – and many orcs are - that we know. But the orcs you speak of Master Legolas, are coming from farther south although we have not tracked them beyond Fangorn. They do not enter the forest. We have strengthened our own defenses in response; we fear treachery is afoot in unexpected places."

"There is something more," said Legolas, once again taking the floor. The elves looked at him and Legolas hesitated. Thranduil stepped towards him. "Speak ion nin. What else have you to report?"

"Three nights ago, four members of my guard reported seeing a dark elf near our borders."

Thranduil, Feren, and Haldir frowned, each thinking the same thought, but it had only been one day since Isobel's flee to the eastern marches and Legolas' contingent had been southwest. "How did this elf appear?"

"It was a male, hair as black as coal and eyes grey like ash. Where he stepped the forest was dark, and fell creatures followed him but did not touch him. Indeed they answered his commands. He filled the elves with fear and doom. They confronted him but he disappeared before their eyes."

"An elf cannot make himself invisible," replied Thranduil. "It was clearly a trick. An apparition of some kind, perhaps a skin changer…but this is new menace. What did this elf say?"

"He spoke to none but the arachnids we saw following him. There is one more thing – he wielded a black sword. It sparkled like black water on a moonlit night. It was an elven blade and I have never seen one like it."

Thranduil and Feren exchanged a meaningful look. Haldir and Legolas watched them, questioning. Feren asked the King a silent question and the King nodded.

"The sword you saw is Anguirel, began Feren. "It was wielded by Maeglin in the first age but it was lost when Tuor slew Maeglin at the fall of Gondolin. Its mate is named Anglachel and it is wielded by Maeglin's niece Isobel…she is here, in Mirkwood."

Legolas' eyes widened with shock. "Ada, is this true?" All eyes now turned to Thranduil, except Haldir, who, for the moment, attended to his own thoughts.

Thranduil ignored Legolas' question for the moment, turning his back on the warriors. Was it possible that Maeglin had survived his fall over the cliff in Gondolin? That he had survived these ages living under the protection of the Dark Lord and his followers? And the most concerning question: Was he now in communication with Isobel?

A shiver ran up his spine although, to the view of others, he stood straight and tall. Thranduil lifted his chin, exhaled and turned to face the three guards. "The niece of Maeglin was detained in my dungeon for one month under suspicions for which she has been cleared."

Legolas opened his mouth to speak, and the King shot him a warning look. The prince remained silent.

"At this time, I am confident of her innocence, however, I think we should speak to her. She may be able to provide more information."

The King spied Haldir, who stood silently, and understood in that moment the concern he must be feeling, for the King felt it too. Feren's face was impassive but stern, and Legolas wore a look of confusion and a hint of anger at having been silenced.

"We will continue this later. For now, I wish to see my son alone."

The elves nodded and left the room without comment. Legolas closed the door behind them and turned around to face his father.

Thranduil's face softened and he stepped forward and enveloped his son in his strong arms. Legolas stood tall, then relaxed into his father's familiar embrace with a smile and slight roll of his eyes. "I missed you too, Ada."

Thranduil stepped back and held his son at arm's length studying his face.

"Ada, why do you do this every time I return from a patrol?"

"Wait till you have children Legolas, and you'll understand." Thranduil finally released his son and walked over to the sofa where he sank down in the soft upholstery. "Come, there is much to tell you, and I would want that you hear it from me."

Legolas raised an eyebrow and took a seat across from his father. "About this dark elf Feren spoke of? Is it true, she is really here?"

Thranduil, exhaled. "Of course it is true. Isobel is the daughter of Halir, the second son of Eöl. She tracked a group of orcs from Lorien north to our border, taking out many of them along the way."

"Surely that is far for an elf from Fangorn to travel?"

"Ah, so you have heard of her?"

Legolas sat up and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands crossed in front. "I have heard the story of the dark elf who lives in Fangorn, the last of Maeglin's bloodline, but I didn't expect to meet her in Mirkwood. Are you not concerned that the southern orcs of the white hand are from Fangorn?"

Thranduil gave Legolas a wry smile. "No ion, that is one thing I do not worry about. There are creatures in that forest far older than us and they do not suffer orcs. Isobel's residing in Fangorn is testimony to her character, for she could not survive it without a treaty of sorts with the ents, and that could not happen if she was in service to the Enemy. When Feren found Isobel, she was about to be slaughtered by the orcs he mentioned, having tried to save one of our own. We thought she had killed the elf herself or at the very least was in league with the orc host. She was cleared when a witness came forth just a few days ago."

"A witness? Why did they not come forth sooner?"

"Our witness is a young elleth, Legolas. It was her naneth that was killed, shortly after the orcs killed her adar. Amdir is only 15 years old. She fled and was found by the Lorien guard. The rest you will already know from speaking to Haldir."

Legolas sat back on the sofa and exhaled, shaking his head. "Ada, it seems very…"

Thranduil cut him off. "I know how it would seem, but what it seems and what it is are different and I would trust you to see that," he said sharply.

The younger elf tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, staring at his father. "Ada, is there something you're not telling me? What is your relationship to this Fangorn elf?"

Thranduil leveled a glare on his son that would silence most elves but Legolas knew his father well enough and was undeterred. "Ada?" he pressed.

"You overstep your mark, young one."

Legolas gave his father a hard look. "I am not as young as you think."

Thranduil stood up and walked to his desk. "We are not having this conversation," he said curtly. "I will question Isobel myself. For now," he paused, and a small smile spread across his face as he looked at his son. "I am happy you're back safely. Tell me more of your time away..."