This chapter is a bit of a filler type... BUT it contains important info about the villains and stuff. So PAY ATTENTION!
PS - I'm SO sorry for the LATE AS ALL FUCK update :(
THE CALLING
The sounds of the celebrating elves were rattling and harsh to Thranduil's ears, sharply contrasting with the stillness and silence of Azriel's chamber.
When did I even decide that I liked these kinds of things... He shook his head, tired of thinking about unimportant things like parties.
He found himself pondering why he had said what he had to her. He could have just left and looked for Evanna without another word. Yet he'd opened his mouth, and what had come out was not at all what he wanted to say.
Well technically, it was what he meant to say, it was how he said it that slightly concerned him.
I was... so... what even was I... And she was... so... not her.
Another thing that vaguely crossed his mind was her reason for not wanting to be alone. Fear was altogether impossible for her. But what else could it be? Perhaps the apprehension of the unknown? Maybe she had some paranoia about someone being out to get her. It was all quite ridiculous when Thranduil thought about it. A grown Elven woman should be able to take care of herself alone - at least when inside a fortified palace.
He sighed, letting all thoughts go as he entered the hall. The boisterous sounds of merry-making flooded his senses.
Now, where is Evanna...
The rave of the party was finally starting to get to Evanna. Everyone around her was dazed from the effects of too much alcohol. Her mother had left early to speak with Nithroel, who was retiring for the night. She was looking forward to meeting her daughter in the morning, although Evanna was sure that Azriel would most certainly not be.
It was already past mid-night, but very few elves had chosen to retire to their chambers - mostly elderly elves and members of the Guard who had shift changes. Everyone else had a generally jovial air about them.
In the crowd Evanna made out the King, who was mingling with some nobles. A serious expression crossed his face, and he directed the nobles to one of the antechambers. Evanna noticed that the nobles weren't dressed in celebratory attire like the rest of the attendees. In fact, their attire was strictly professional - breeches and armour plates - with foreign crests. They didn't have a woodland air about them either - if Evanna was one to judge.
Envoys from Lorien or Rivendell? Evanna wondered if she could slip away and listen in on their conversation, but the thought was cut short when a hand grasped her wrist.
She nearly pulled away and reflexively countered, as was her nature, but immediately her wrist was released.
"Evanna, excuse me." It was Prince Thranduil.
"You! Where is Azriel?!" Evanna whispered harshly so that no one could hear her name. After all, they only knew of 'Lianna'.
"She's in her room. She said to call you because she couldn't be alone for long..." Thranduil's sense of urgency was slightly damped by curiosity.
"She mustn't fall asleep alone! Why did you leave her?!" She grabbed his wrist and pushed through the crowd towards the exit.
"I had to find you!" Thranduil wrenched his wrist out of her grasp but kept pace with her as she navigated the way to the room.
"Didn't she ask you to stay?! She can't be alone... you just don't understand!" Thranduil cringed at the echo that Evanna's booming voice created.
Yes, she did ask me to stay. But I couldn't because... Well, why couldn't he have stayed? He truly did not know.
When they finally reached the door, Evanna didn't bother knocking. She flung open the door and found Azriel leaning by the window. Her head was against the wall and her eyes were closed. Not quite asleep, not quite awake.
"Azriel!" Evanna ran towards her, leaving Thranduil standing in the doorway.
She pulled Azriel's limp form into her arms and let her weight lean against her. Thranduil shuffled slightly awkwardly in the doorway, not sure if he should say something or just leave them.
"Listen, Prince Thranduil, please tell my mother, the Queen, King, whoever, that I was tired and had to sleep. Make sure we are not disturbed for the rest of the night" Evanna's voice radiated sincerity, and Thranduil was slightly taken aback. Honestly, he should have been used to it by now - especially considering these two.
"Yes, I will... Do you want help with her?" Thranduil hazarded the question.
"No. But thank you" She smiled.
Thranduil got the feeling that she wasn't just saying 'thank you' for his offer to help.
He was right.
"Goodnight, Prince Thranduil" And that was the signal for him to leave.
He closed the door behind him gently and began making his way back to the ballroom, although for what he did not know. The main guests, after all, were no longer there.
For a moment he mused Evanna's acute concern with Azriel being alone.
Is there truly something monumental about her being alone? For the moment, his curiosity was incredibly piqued.
Oropher steepled his fingers, considering carefully.
Just after the grand celebration had begun, a small envoy from Gil-Galad's army had arrived. Luckily, his adroit King's Guard had kept the arrival relatively clandestine.
Now, they stood before him.
They had come to ask him to fight in the war in the East. His army of Woodland elves would join The Last Alliance of Elves and Men. Of course, Oropher knew that there was no option to opt out. Once a leader was considered by Gil-Galad, they were obliged to follow him to the end. Such was his level of influence in the realm of elves, and perhaps men too.
Inconvenience upon inconvenience. First those rogues, my son is injured, the rogues are found to be our kin, a war in the East, foreign invaders. All because we had one perfect day... Oropher wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but the envoys were growing impatient.
They had brought with them a contract for him to sign in which he would specify the number of men and weapons he would be able to supply for the ongoing war. The only condition in the contract which bothered him was the one which stipulated that he himself would have to join the fray.
Most inconvenient...
"King Oropher, we truly do not wish to rush you, but a decision must be made" One of the members of the envoy bowed and stood up with practised grace.
"I understand" Oropher stated. "I will go, but I will take no member of my King's Guard. Nor my son" He regarded the envoys, waiting for their approval.
"Then who shall fight with you?"
"The rest of my Woodland army. Weapons and all" He deadpanned.
"You will leave Greenwood defenceless?" The youngest elf blurted, earning a sharp look from the others.
"No. My King's Guard is large enough. It will remain" Oropher clarified.
"Thank you" The envoys bowed together. "We will deliver your decision to Gil-Galad himself in all haste"
"Thank you" Oropher bowed his head, but made no move to get up. "Please, join the party. I will return momentarily"
Soon he was left alone to ponder this predicament of his.
How utterly inconvenient...
The landscape resonated with a chilly silence. Branches gave way and plants snapped underfoot as dozens of figures flooded out of the forest.
A single man stood tall on a high rock above, attentively watching. His eyes glowed red and sinister in the darkness.
"We are close" Another voice echoed softly behind him.
"I am not sure... Azriel" The red eyed man turned around to face the other. "I want you to leave this group and scout the south eastern lands on your own" His voice radiated power and sternness.
The man looked puzzled, although it was hard to discern in the dim light.
"But why? We tracked them heading towards the Iron Hills, did we not?"
"I know. But we have not sent anyone to the elf lands. Neither the Woodland Realm, nor Lothlorien, nor Rivendell"
"What reason would they have to shelter with other elves? Doubtless they'd be turned away..." Azriel's voice took a note of slight insistence.
"I don't know..." He turned back around and glanced at the silhouettes of the looming Misty Mountains. "I would feel more secure if we have searched every possible place" He turned back to Azriel and said, "My son, surely you understand my motives..."
It was less of a question, and more of a test. Azriel knew it as well as he knew that the people they were chasing were nowhere near the Iron Hills.
"Of course, my lord" Azriel bent down on one knee and held his fist against his chest in submission.
"How many times have I told you to call me by my name?" He laughed slightly and waved a hand in exasperation. Suddenly he seemed less like Azriel's King and more like his father. It was a strange and rare occurrence.
"Yes, Maro" Azriel bowed slightly and smiled sardonically.
Thanks to the darkness, his father didn't see.
He left Maro standing alone on the rock, gazing at the sun as it rose behind the Misty Mountains. The sunlight poured through the valleys and engulfed the darkness in its wake.
He turned back and looked at the distant trees that marked the start of the Elven Kingdom of Oropher.
He whispered to himself, "The child of Fear shall reign over the Darkness in the East"
How far will you run, my lovely Fears. How fast, how far, how long. Where will you run where I cannot find you...
He jumped off the rock and joined his flowing ranks as they charged in stealthy silence towards the Lake Town of men.
How far...
The sun seemed to take its time when it reached the edge of the Greenwood. With practised slowness it lazed forward, submerging the forest floor in a dull glow.
Oropher hadn't slept.
He had rested his eyes for an hour, but he hadn't returned to his chambers till morning. When he entered he saw his wife, the Queen, sprawled over the covers. It had been an exhausting night for her, what with all the preparations for the party, and then Nithroel's late arrival last night.
He sighed, not wanting to disturb her sleep, only to reveal to her his predicament - which would doubtlessly put her in a foul mood. Foul moods did little to help keep elves looking beautiful and radiant - especially in the mornings.
"Themra, my sweet. Wake up" He sat on the bed beside her and rested his palm against her hair.
"Mmm?" Her half lidded eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room. She fought the urge to yawn against the sleep. "Why didn't you come to bed last night?" She mumbled, pushing her hair behind her ears as she sat up.
"Do you remember Gil-Galad? We met him in Rivendell" Oropher's voice was soft as a feather touch.
"Hmm, yes. He's one of the royals, or something. I can't remember exactly. Was it long ago?" Themra rubbed the sleep from her eyes and licked her dry lips.
She was still in her dress from last night and hadn't bothered even covering herself with a bedsheet. She'd simply fallen into bed.
How unpresentable... She inwardly shuddered at herself.
"Yes yes, him. He's called me..." Oropher pursed his lips, trying to figure out a good way to articulate himself.
"Called for what?" She glanced at him nonchalantly, completely oblivious.
"War"
Silence radiated.
"When will you tell Thranduil" Themra deadpanned.
She was now in the process of getting herself dressed. She'd been silent for a good fifteen minutes before accepting the situation completely. Oropher had explained the needs and goals of The Last Alliance of Elves and Men to her, but she didn't really care. She was entirely worried about how Thranduil was going to take this news.
With Oropher gone, she alone would govern these lands with Thranduil's aid. She felt he was still too young and inexperienced to handle things on their own. The fact that his body had endured trauma recently didn't help the situation either.
"Soon" Was Oropher's vague reply.
A knock on the door startled them both. It was extremely rare for someone to approach the King or Queen when they were still in their chambers. That either meant that an important message had to be delivered, or that the messenger was new.
"Enter" Themra raised her voice from behind the screen where she was fixing her skirts and corset.
Nlaea entered silently and closed the door behind her.
"My King, forgive me. But it is urgent" Her fingers twitched impatiently as she waited for the King's permission to speak.
"Let's walk. I must meet Thranduil anyway" Oropher didn't bother bidding goodbye to Themra. They had done it too many times in the past for it to matter any more.
Nlaea opened the door for the King and they entered the silent echoing halls of the palace.
"What is it?" He trotted down the stairs informally as he spoke to her. She kept up pace with him easily.
"It's about those elves..." She glanced behind to make sure they weren't being followed, although sensing that they were alone was enough reassurance for Oropher himself.
"Get on with it, Nlaea" Oropher huffed impatiently. There were, after all, more important things for him to attend to.
"They are branded. A strange crest I have never laid eyes on before. The mark was burned into the back of the red-haired elf"
"Evanna" Oropher clarified.
"...Yes... Her" Nlaea pursed her lips, not wanted to entirely accept the fact that those elves were possibly her own kin.
"What shape was it?"
"A serpents head. There were words too. Written in many languages and scripts"
"Could you read any of them?"
"There was some Nandorin tengwar. It said 'Bringers of Death'"
"Anything else?"
"No. Just this"
Oropher halted when they reached the bottom of the staircase.
"Thank you for this information, Nlaea. However, it would be best suited if Thranduil was informed. I have to leave the palace soon. Preferably tonight."
"For what, my King?" Nlaea queried.
"Our army is required in the East. I will take my legion and leave the King's guard here to protect the realm"
Nlaea's eyes widened in disbelief. "But why!? Our whole army!?"
"Gil-Galad himself requested for me. There is no other alternative I'm afraid. Anyway, I am sure my King's guard is capable of keeping the Greenwood under control - even without me" Oropher sighed.
"I must inform Thranduil of this development. I'm sure he won't be too happy about it... Nlaea, send messengers to all the outposts in the Greenwood. Every warrior will be summoned. We march for the East tonight" The finality in Oropher's voice gave Nlaea a grim feeling.
"Yes, my King" She bowed, shocked by his sudden revelation.
When she raised her head, he had already disappeared.
Thranduil awoke well before dawn. He usually got up at or after dawn, but for some reason he was unable to sleep soundly through the night. He hadn't slept particularly late, maybe two hours after the midnight hour or so? It wasn't as if elves needed much sleep anyway.
Despite waking up so early, he didn't bother getting out of bed until at least an hour past dawn. There wasn't anything very pressing to attend to, and more than half the palace was still asleep after the late hour of last night's party, so he saw no need to rush.
The King was not particularly interested in whether or not his son was presentable when he barged into his room.
Thranduil propped himself up on his elbows and scrunched his eyes a few times to get rid of the sleep when he heard the door latch click without a preceding knock. It was definitely one of his parents. Or Verona.
The door opened and closed in a moment. Thranduil father stood tall and serious before him.
"Good morning, father. You don't look very pleased this morning..." Thranduil nearly yawned, but quickly stifled it as his father's expression grew grim.
Oropher's mouth became a thin, pensive line.
"Thranduil, I am leaving for war in the East"
Almost immediately Thranduil sat up straighter. Unable to believe his ears, he replied incredulously, "What!? War!? Shouldn't there have been some envoy!?"
Thranduil threw the bed covers off his half naked body and began pacing the room. He ran a hand through his hair every few paces - something he seemed to be doing quite often lately.
It took him a while to formulate an objective statement.
"Which forces will we take with us? Who will remain here?" His voice was surprisingly levelled. Oropher was slightly impressed with how efficiently he masked his concerns.
"There is no we. I will go, along with our main force. The entire King's Guard, including most of the Elven Guard will remain here. I will choose a few capable warriors to join me in the fray. And before you begin an outburst, let me tell you that there was, in fact, an envoy, that came last night, and if you were anywhere in sight I would have asked you to join me when I spoke with them" Oropher's voice became gradually more commanding and slightly castigating as he reached the end of his speech.
Thranduil was at a loss for words, feeling almost ashamed of having left the party to follow Azriel.
Again, her! Thranduil's jaw tightened.
"Thranduil, this war is huge. The Last Alliance of Elves and Men needs our forces to assure a victory. We cannot let the darkness in the East spread further. You, better than anyone in this palace, know what is at stake if I refuse Gil-Galad"
There was a pregnant pause before Thranduil spoke. "I... I understand. When will you leave?"
"Later today. I have already sent word to the farthest ends of the Greenwood. All outlying forces are to return to prepare for the long march East"
"Good. Is mother in charge while you're gone?"
"That decision rests with her" The strange sense of finality in Oropher's voice made Thranduil knit his eyebrows in confusion for a moment.
"Okay. Is there anything I have to do?"
"You can see us off, if you like..."
"Of course. May the Valar be with you throughout"
Thranduil pressed his hand against his chest and released it, the customary salutation between elves - especially father and son. Oropher mimicked him, and as he did so, Thranduil's jaw clenched. He wanted to yell at his father, urge him to stay, to teach him more before leaving. To give some guarantee that he would return. But of course, he could ask for none of that. His father had left for war once before, but at the time Thranduil had only known that he'd left after he had returned to the Greenwood, with a large part of his forces still intact.
He could only pray that this time would be the same.
Azriel woke with a start. Her hand reached out and grasped at thin air as she shot up. She gulped in lungfuls of the damp morning air, collecting her wits.
I wasn't alone...
She looked to her side and found Evanna still sound asleep. Azriel bit her lip and cursed silently at her outburst. Evanna wasn't at all a morning person, no matter how hard she tried to be.
Azriel pinched the bridge of her nose as she recalled last night briefly - How the Prince had followed her, and how she had asked him to stay till Evanna came...
God. He saw me in that state! Azriel swore under her breath in dwarvish as she threw the covers off of her.
It was her preferred tongue after the elvish dialects - mostly because it had a whole array of curses which had no translatable meanings in any other language.
Evanna had seen fit not to bother dressing Azriel for bed, and had instead simply removed her dress, corset and all, and slipped a sheer chemise on her. A cool breeze blew through the open window, but Azriel couldn't feel it's chill at all.
She closed her eyes as her wandering hands traversed the unnatural contours and dips and deviations in her skin. From her sternum her fingers traced a line to her collar bones and neck and then to the edge of her shoulders. These bruises, these scars. So familiar. Entirely hers.
She pressed her hands together, indulging in the smooth skin that no other part of her body adorned.
The latch on the door clicked, and Azriel was jerked from her trance.
Her hands yanked the covers up to her neck so that not a single inch of skin could be seen apart from her face and hands. She sank as low as she could and slowed her breathing just enough to give the imitation of one at rest.
Don't people knock in this realm? What kind of elves have been raised here!? She scoffed inwardly, remembering how Thranduil hadn't knocked before he entered her room the night before.
As a figure stepped through the doorway to probable death, Azriel's senses heightened.
Who... ?
Azriel peeked through half lidded eyes at the intruder. It was a thin elvish woman. She approached the bedside tentatively, obviously unsure about what to do next. Her lips pursed and her eyes darted around, trying to focus on anything but the two vulnerable elves.
Well, she seemed to think they looked vulnerable.
Finally, the she-elf sat on Azriel's side of the bed - closer to her face than Azriel would have liked. However tempted Azriel was to strike, she suppressed herself, waiting to see what would happen next.
Surprisingly, the curious she-elf was content with just staring intently at the two, but mostly at Azriel, which unnerved her. Although she couldn't directly see the other elf, she could feel her intense gaze.
What do you want? Azriel was tempted to shift slightly in order to startle the elf, but decided against it when the elf began to speak.
"Lianna" She whispered. Azriel's jaw clenched with fury at the use of her long forgotten name.
No. No. NO. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, over and over, "NO!", but she remained content with closing her fingers into tight fists, hidden away underneath the covers.
Azriel felt a hand sway above her and settle on her hair. This time, she didn't suppress herself.
Her hand shot out from under the covers and grabbed the she-elf's wrist with such raw power that an audible crack was heard. She lifted her head from the pillow and faced the elf with fiery eyes. The elf's hand was becoming whiter as Azriel's death grip tightened.
She was slender and petite, with straight, light brown hair. Her wide crystal blue eyes expressed heightening fear. She grimaced in pain as a bone in her wrist shifted.
Good.
"I. Am. Not. Her" Azriel's every word was clipped with pure bitterness towards the she-elf.
The two stared each other down for an eternity before Azriel finally let go. The she-elf immediately recoiled and stumbled as she pushed herself away from the bed. Without another word, she bolted for the door.
Once the room had filled with still silence once more, Azriel took a deep breath.
There was no mistaking those eyes.
That elf was her mother.
Later that day Azriel and Evanna learned that King Oropher was leaving for war in the East. It had been known to them for quite some time that the Last Alliance of Elves and Men required large amounts of reinforcements if they wished to be victorious against the Darkness in the East - however they did not anticipate that the elves of the Woodland Realm would be asked to sacrifice for the cause.
It was slightly inconvenient, but it also kept most of the attention away from them.
The two elves watched as the King said his brief goodbyes - to the Queen and the Prince. Both of them looked sombre as he bade them farewell. The King's Guard and the Elven Guard were to stay behind, according to Oropher's orders. Many of the nobles had also gathered to bid their King a safe journey and a victorious battle.
Azriel glanced at Evanna, remembering how her mother had decided to pay them an unexpected visit that morning. She still hadn't told Evanna about it, and wasn't planning to at all. However, it would be slightly problematic if the other elves started to notice that something was off with their pretty little 'Lianna'. At some point, Azriel would probably have to develop a closer relationship with her mother.
But as of now, that was not important.
Evanna, meanwhile, had caught her mother's eye, and left Azriel's side momentarily to converse with her.
"Mother" She nodded. Azriel bit her lip as she eavesdropped on their conversation, slightly perturbed but also impressed by how easily the word came out of Evanna's mouth. Seamless. A perfect deception.
"Evanna" Vestele bowed her head solemnly. She had suppressed her normally bubbly personality to suit the serious occasion.
"Mother, I..." Evanna bit her lip, looking for the words to articulate herself with. "...I am sorry"
"Sorry? For what?" Vestele's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"...I know you wanted us - Me, you, Az-" Evanna cleared her throat mid-sentence to disguise the error. "-Lianna, and Lady Nithroel - to be a perfect family; to be how we would have been if the two of us hadn't been taken away all those years ago... But... I can't promise that we will be the family you dreamed of..."
So... Nithroel is her name... Azriel occupied herself with her own thoughts for a moment.
"Ah, my dear Evanna. I never dreamed that a day would come when I could see you again. We do not have to be a perfect family. Just an ordinary family is good enough for me. Quarrels and all..." Vestele's eyes were watering now, and Evanna didn't know what to say to make her feel better.
After a while, she smiled brightly at her mother. "I... I will do my best. And so will Lianna"
Vestele smiled with equal mirth back at her, and just then, the trumpets sounded, signalling the departure of the troops from the palace.
Everyone present in the entrance hall looked towards the grand doors as they opened, and out marched the elven forces, with Oropher at their head.
Azriel glanced at Thranduil, who was standing on a step with his mother by his side, slightly above the rest of the crowd.
Her breath hitched when she saw that his eyes were sparkling with tears, and his mother's were too.
Oh, what hell war brings upon us...
AAhhhhhhhhhh so I tried REALLY hard to incorporate some canon content into this (LAoEaM) but idk if I was accurate or not... idk anything about dates btw. Just saying.
Anyway, hope you liked this chapter somewhat...
See y'all soon hopefully!