Chapter 1

2997, Third Age

If there was one thing that Thranduil, King of the Elves, was not used to, it would have to be the strange occurrence of being caught off guard, especially within the sanctum of his kingdom.

It was a beautiful fall evening. The Elvenking had been penning yet anther important missive at his desk when Fenian, his chief of staff, entered the king's study. "My lord," he bowed.

"What is it this time, Fenian?" Thranduil wondered, not looking up from his work. The ellon had already approached him several times earlier to relay trivial matters in need of his lordship's council.

"Prince Legolas has returned," the Chief of Staff informed him. "And is currently within the healing chambers."

The king paused, his blue eyes slowly shifting up to his chief of staff, and stood.

"Something... terrible has happened." Fenian continued, shifting his feet uncomfortably. "I'm afraid that - my lord?" Fenian watched as his king hurried on past him. "My lord, wait!"

Sliding into his robes, Thranduil quickly descended down through the intricate pathways that would lead him into the medicine ward. His guards trailing behind him. He had always known what Legolas would be getting himself into when he joined the Woodland Guard, yet the father in him could not help but worry for the young ellon's safety. To the Elvenking, the prince was more than just his successor.

Legolas Greenleaf had been leaning against one of the medical cots when his father strode through the doors, his ageless face troubled. "Are you injured?" Thranduil asked, approaching him. His guards having been instructed to wait outside the chamber for their king.

Legolas shook his head. "Fortunately not." He looked confused. "Did he not tell you that I was well?"

"Just that something terrible has happened," answered Thranduil. "I left to see you before he could say anything else."

With a tired nod, the prince stared at the opposite side of the room. Thranduil followed his gaze, and stiffened.

A small figure sat hunched over on one of the cots, her eyes glassy and unseeing. Melia, one of the healers, was currently attending to her. To make matters even worse, she was a mortal. A human child. Thranduil frowned, noticing the girl's tattered, blood-covered apparel. She had also obtained an injury above her left brow. "What happened?"

"We were returning from our patrol of the north-eastern woods when we found her," Legolas said quietly.

Thranduil frowned. What on earth would possess this fragile human to travel through Mirkwood, by herself no less? Unless...

"She wasn't alone," Legolas told him.

"Why is she covered in blood?"

But before the prince could answer, another figure stepped into the chamber, cradling a small bundle. Thranduil sucked in a breath. Was that... a baby?

"Hir Vuin." Tauriel inclined her head out of respect for her king.

The king nodded, watching as the elleth came to kneel before the girl. Her eyes immediately brightened at the sight of his captain, and Tauriel placed the babe into her arms. The child grinned, holding the infant close.

"Legolas..." Thranduil sighed.

"I couldn't do it, Adar." His son's voice was firm. "I couldn't just leave them alone out there, defenseless and starving."

"I'm not saying that your heart wasn't in the right place, ion-nin." Thranduil sighed, his eyes lingering on the touching scene before him. "But you, of all people, should know that we are not so accepting of strangers."

"Please, Adar." implored Legolas. "They're only children. Let them stay; at least until we find the other one."

"Other one?" Thranduil looked at him, his eyes narrowing.

"Their sister," Legolas pushed himself away from his cot. "She's been missing since yesterday."

With a heavy sigh, the king massaged his forehead with the tips of his fingers. He needed a drink, maybe two or three. With a grim expression, he approached the child. "You," he said, startling their little group. "What is your name?"

The girl gulped, and looked to Tauriel, who nodded back in encouragement. "Tanya, my lord."

She sounded so small, so feeble.

Thranduil knelt down in front of her. "And how old are you, Tanya?"

"I have seen eight winters, my lord."

By Eru, she was young. "What were you doing wandering around in my woods?"

"I... me and my family were hoping to seek shelter under the Elvenking."

"I am the Elvenking," revealed Thranduil, making her gape. "I understand that your sister is missing."

"Yes, my lord." she said. "Her name is Ihsan."

"And who is this?" The Elvenking turned his gaze to the babe, who was greedily suckling away at the bottle the girl held for her.

"My younger sister." She failed to mention her name.

"Was there anyone else?"

"Just...," she swallowed. "Just our mother."

"Is she also lost in the forest?"

"Sire," Tauriel began to caution, but he silenced her with a raised hand. The girl's eyes began to water, and Thranduil instantly regretted the question.

"She..." Tanya looked down at the infant, who was so delicate and tiny in her arms. If the king didn't know any better, he would have surmised that she was a newborn.

Wait...

"Oh, child." There was no mistaking the sadness in his voice, nor the sympathy in his bright, blue eyes.

"Adar," Legolas stood behind his king.

Thranduil rose to his feet, straightening his robes. "See that the children are attended to properly," he ordered Tauriel.

"Yes, my lord."

Satisfied, the king turned. His gaze lingering on the face of his only child, his prodigy, his heir.

Without another word, Thranduil swept out of the room.

3017, Third Age

"Tanya!" The pounding on her door was insistent. "For Valar's sake, open the door!"

With a tired groan, the young woman rolled out of her bed and stumbled across the room. She flung the door open, glaring at the intruder, who just happened to be her little sister. "Might you try knocking a bit louder? I don't think all of Mordor can hear you."

Calawen frowned. "Very funny."

She brushed past her sibling, turning to face her. "You look terrible."

"What a lovely deduction." Tanya yawned, scratching her messy hair.

"And you weren't at breakfast."

Tanya blinked. "That's why you practically busted my ears? To tell me that I've missed the morning meal?"

"No need to get testy." Calawen scoffed, placing her hands on her hips, and Tanya noticed that she was wearing a comfortable tunic followed by matching leggings and boots. "It's just that, well...you would never skip out on breakfast, willingly that is."

Sighing, Tanya sauntered back to her bed. "I had a long night, Cal."

Calawen gave a sly glance at the empty bottle on her sister's nightstand. "Really?"

"Is there something you want?" Tanya asked impatiently, rubbing her face. Valar, she had a terrible headache.

"Relax." Calawen sat down next to her sister. "We're just worried about you, is all."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me, Ihsan..." Calawen ticked off on her fingers, then paused. "Maybe the king?"

"Oh, please!" Tanya dramatically flopped backwards onto her mattress.

"You barely said a word to anyone at dinner last night; not to mention that you left before dessert."

"So what?"

"You love dessert, Tanya. Everyone knows that. Well," she grimaced. "Almost everyone."

Tanya lifted her head and stared at her. While all three siblings shared the same physical attributes, it was Calawen who stood out the most, for she was the spitting image of their beloved mother.

"What?" Calawen frowned.

Tanya quickly shook her head. "Nothing."

"Its always something." Calawen chimed back, leaning over her sister.

A new knock sounded from outside the door, startling both women. "Milady?" The knocking intensified.

"Tis only Fenian," whispered Calawen, giggling.

With a roll of her eyes Tanya pushed away the girl and stood. "I hate it when he calls me that," she muttered, sliding into her robe less she distract the poor Chief of Staff with her nightgown.

"I personally don't mind it," Calawen admitted sheepishly.

Tanya glided towards her door once again, yanking it wide open. "Fenian!" she greeted, giving him a sharp look. "How many times must I ask you to drop the honorifics?"

I did not mean to offend," he said, standing tall. From behind her sister, Calawen waved at him. "Just following proper decorum."

Tanya sighed. "Of course you are." She cleared her throat. "What can I do for you?"

"King Thranduil has requested an audience with you," he told her.

Tanya blinked. "Now?"

"Preferably, yes."

"Why?"

"He did not say." Fenian turned on his heel and left.

Scoffing, Tanya threw the door shut.

"Uh-oh." Calawen picked up a pillow, hugging it close. "I'm guessing your little disappearing act didn't go unnoticed by his lordship after all?"

"Don't see why he would care." Tanya splashed her face over the wash bowl before combing out her thick locks.

"I do." The girl shrugged, eyeing her sister thoughtfully as the woman picked up her uniform off of the floor and quickly changed into it.

After securing her weapons and cloak, Tanya headed for the door. Fenian did not need to tell her where the king was positioned within the realm at this hours.

The young guard knew exactly where to find him.

Please feel free to share with me your thoughts, as they give me the inspiration I need to continue moving forward. :)

Terms

Ellon - "male elf"

Hir Vuin - "beloved lord"

Adar - "father"

Ion-nin - "my son"

OC Names

Tanya - "of the family"

Ihsan - "charity"

Calawen - "daughter of light"