Disclaimer: I don't own Middle Earth

AU elements: Thranduil was very young when he became prince of Greenwood; Greenwood's stronghold moved from 'Dol Guldur' to a palace at the southern foot of the Mountains of Mirkwood where this story mostly takes place; there are young elflings; Greenwood has its own Ring of Power, lesser than the Three elven Rings. It's main feature is that is closer connects the wearer to the essence of the forest and boosts their stores of magic.

Rated for blood/violence/injury/death and tense situations.

Italics indicate elvish, emphasis, or thought.

*elvish translations will be at the bottom of the chapter.

I made up rankings so here's the list from highest to least sway: prince and captains, generals, then commanders.

A/N: Revised version is finally up!! This is the first thing I ever wrote, (yeah, I was Smol) so plz Read At Your Own Risk. I decided it took far too much effort to write to simply take it down (I have a hard time presenting things that I don't think are Good haha), but here we are! ":D

Chapter 1~Forbidden Fire

Thranduil rushed through vast courtyards, with his brow creased in distress and biting his lip anxiously. Pushing a set of grand wooden gates open without a second glance to the startled guards, he rushed through in the direction of the livery, casting an absent remembrance to the days he used the magic of a Ring to fortify their gates.

He had sent out a regiment of trusted elves led by his son Legolas on a scouting mission to the nearby city of Tedrin on a whim to make sure all was well there. Sending out patrols such as this was abnormal but there had been an insistent nagging at the back of his mind to do so; the woodsman living in their part of the forest were getting rather... pesky.

The party had just returned.

All was not well.

oOo

Legolas stumbled off his mount, clutching a hastily bandaged arm and limping slightly.

The world began to spin around him and he brushed his hand against his aching temple. His fingers came back stained red. He groaned. Ido not like getting blood in my hair, he thought deliriously. I have not time for such a botheration. He pressed his eyelids closed to escape the spinning world and pondered that perhaps there had been something on that arrow that grazed his arm. It burned.

All around him elves rushed around to help the rest of the patrol off their mounts and rush a far too large portion of them to the healing ward.

The young Sinda was startled when someone appeared beside him and firmly grasped his elbow to help steady his shaking figure. He blinked again to clear the double vision and looked into the elf's face to find Aldaner, an elleth healer, looking at him with worried sternness. Rather, more like unspoken chastisement. Legolas swatted her hand away and took a couple shaky steps forward.

"None of that Legolas! You can't talk yourself out of this one; you are certainly not alright. Now let me help you to the healing ward before you collapse and make a fool of yourself." Aldaner pursed her lips and tried to guide his shoulders but he stubbornly pushed her away.

Amazingly enough, he was able to take a few more steps before collapsing on his hands and knees into the tall shadow of an elf with his hands on his hips. Legolas dared not to look up; it seemed his head might explode if he were to move it.

"What did I tell you about listening to the healers, Legolas?" the voice was meant to sound aggravated but Legolas could hear the worried undertone. He could only let out a muffled groan. Of all people he had to collapse right in front of his adar! And in such a condition as well. Thranduil bent down and helped his son to his feet. Ai, I did indeed make a fool of myself. Get it together Legolas...

"Hir nin I—"

"Talk later, Legolas. We must get you cleaned up first," Thranduil chided with the shake of his head. He wanted a report but demanding such from his injured child sounded awfully callous.

He had barely finished the sentence when Legolas went limp. The Sinda collected him into his arms and tried now to think about how awkward he felt holding his child thus. Ai, when did you grow up, Legolas?

Healer Aldaner pressed a blood-soaked kerchief to the wound on unconscious Legolas' forehead where another arrow had grazed him. Aldaner always marveled at how he managed to escape the most perilous of situations.

Jaseric, the Commander of the patrol, rushed up to Thranduil, limping heavily with his cloak swathed around his leg in a make-shift bandage.

"Aran nin!" Jaseric gave a hasty but polite bow.

"Commander! What has happened here?"

Aldaner rushed over to steady him. He was wavering dangerously on his feet and blood had begun to seep through the bindings.

"In the city!—" he was panting. "We were ambushed—and—and outnumbered!—The city was destroyed—we tried to protect—but the filthy Edain demolished— they're gone now." Another hoarse breath. "Many are wounded," he finished miserably with a glaze to his eyes that signified he would be out soon.

"I understand, hannon-le Commander. See that you mend." Thranduil returned Jaseric's weary half-smile with a nod as Aldaner led him away, chiding him all the way how he should be more careful and take better care of himself, and the Sinda couldn't help but smile. Jaseric had been orphaned young and had no one but his sister left. Aldaner had been caring for the Royal family as an assistant healer since Thranduil had been a very young prince.

"Will you manage?" Aldaner called over her shoulder, dropping the pleasantries as usual.

"I will see that he gets to Master Healer Filendis," he called back wryly. As if he would do anything else but seek medical attention immediately.

Inwardly, Thranduil knew this attack was nothing to be looked over. There was of course, the usual skirmishes between elves and woodmen every few years, but it was rather rare, for Edain were particularly superstitious of elves—especially Silvans, for they were swift and silent and deadly as shadows. Edain feared what they could not comprehend.

But the opposite has been proved true; the number of skirmishes had recently been growing more frequent, and none had been as serious as this. No mere horde of angry woodsmen could inflict this much damage. No, there was some other scheme at work here.

The men came in with unimaginable numbers and would strike in irregular intervals. Elven warriors were spread too thin in the cities—and by cities, they imply groups of telain—and were unable to do anything more than fight for themselves. Condensing the troops into one place was not an option because the humans would strike random cities without any kind of pattern, and—unlikely as it was— were any elf caught spying for any prolonged period of time, a war truly would brew between the two races, for many excuses could be conjured for a reason of attack from finding an 'enemy' spy.

Thranduil hated feeling so helpless but there was really nothing they could do to stop the marauders. Though Thranduil did his best to rule, many elves had adopted the opinion that a Sinda has no right to be sitting on the throne. Already a dangerous majority of the citizens of Greenwood were beginning to doubt his rule.

Anger burned inside him for the Men that were still infesting his territory. They were still displeased with him for not coming to aid their brothers who had suffered the destruction Smaug had inflicted on the people of Dale and the dwarves of Erebor. But Thranduil knew dragons weren't just some minor force to be reckoned with. He had first hand experience with them and knew the risk was far too great. He was tired of death.

Pushing the memories of his beloved deceased wife and dragon fire to the back of his mind, he concentrated on getting Legolas professional help.

Thranduil planned to send a regiment of scouts out to help those who dwelt in Tedrin rebuild and keep out any other dangers while doing so. As soon as he called an emergency council meeting. This he could not stand much longer.

He returned his attention to his son limp in his arms as he swept purposefully down tapestry-lined halls. He swallowed nervously as he watched blood trickle from the wound on his son's head and soak through the cloth tied to his arm.

Head wounds usually bled this much, didn't they? Oh Legolas, whydo you insist on making me worry for you?

oOo

"We must act now!" The golden-haired Greenwood general stood abruptly, toppling his chair. His voice was raised so that it echoed off the walls of the meeting chamber and everyone present exchanged weary glances. This ellon was known for being rather... overzealous. Nearly conspiratorial if you wanted to put it that way. "Our people are being harassed, and our guards are already have enough on their hands with keeping the rising darkness at bay! I say we increase the number in our Home Guard and attack before those filthy Edain return!"

The two guards by the door had moved into a defensive stance, their hands on the hilts of their swords.

Thranduil waved his hand mildly, gesturing for the guards to stand down. He was already in a sour mood and council meetings—emergency or not— never failed to give him a headache.

"That is quite enough, General! If you cannot address the council in a proper manner, I will ask you to please escort yourself from this chamber!" Thranduil's icy blue gaze fixed on the ellon's, causing him to waver.

Thranduil did not fully trust this elf. Though he was skilled in battle, he had yet to prove himself trustworthy of this position. Thranduil was giving him a sort of 'trial run' to see how he would handle his new name. But of course, Gindorelle, the general, did not know this and naturally acted as one does with a haughty prefix to their name.

"Goheno nin, hir nin," he muttered after a lengthy stare from the king and fumbled with his overturned chair. Being embarrassed as such riled him.

Legolas fidgeted uncomfortably in chair and twirled one of his braids around his finger, unsure of what to say. He was embarrassed enough that he hadn't been able to handle this matter and had to turn to his adar for aid.

He cradled his bandaged arm. Thankfully the arrow that had grazed it had not done any serious damage. The tip had been smothered with a strange sort of potion that the healers were still trying to analyze, though. It was new and they had never seen anything like it before but they had gathered so far that its purpose was to weaken its target and eventually drive them into unconsciousness.

His head still ached, but with Legolas' quick elven healing, he would be back to normal within a few days; there was no way he was going to miss this meeting, no matter how much the healers pleaded with him. He couldn't help but feel that it was his fault the situation with the Edain had gotten out of hand in the first place, even though Thranduil had tried to persuade him otherwise. With facts and logic, of course; not in an informal, comforting way of a father. That is how most things were settled between them most of the time anyhow. Legolas sometimes wondered if there was still his ada buried under that cold mask of the aran.

"Nay, we need fully trained warriors if we were to attack, and besides, that would leave the palace unguarded," added Captain Denisale with a look of disdain at Gindorelle. Increasing their Home Guard would mean lowering the age of which elflings were trained. Children were precious to the Eldar, and the folk of the Greenwood already mourned the young age of which their children were taken off to war with the Shadow.

"Perhaps it would be best not to involve our soldiers... we don't have enough as is," Master Healer Filendis said, exposing his concerns. He was the Royal head healer, but spent most of his time caring for elves that came in from patrols going south. Dark things were beginning to creep up from there and they fought valiantly to stop it. Hope felt vain when they had to leave their stronghold behind them in the South, now known as Dol Guldur.

"Perhaps, but what choice do we have?" General Gindorelle was still rather young and had not seen too many battles. He longed for the rush of adrenaline and fast action.

"I believe the best choice is to burn them out." All heads turned to the ellon who had not spoken since the beginning of the meeting. Murmurs rippled throughout the room. Ausocitin, the ellon who had spoken, had been King Oropher's advisor before he died. He was now the advisor of his son as well.

Thranduil's eyes darkened. Ausocitin had been around for a long time and seemed eager than ever to press his buttons and keep him on edge and just in reach of his control. Thranduil had always been wary of this elf, for Ausocitin had ever looked upon him with a dark look of disapproval whenever his back was turned. Thranduil would have dismissed him from office long ago, had he not been Silvan and seen highly in the general opinion. Taking a Silvan off such a high position with no real reason would surely create a riot, and Ausocitin sure took advantage of that.

"And risk setting the surrounding forest on fire? I don't think so."

A dangerous glint shone in Ausocitin's eye. "If you recall, our scouts reported that they were settled in a clearing, a safe distance away from the trees."

"And if we could get ahold of some of that exploding powder—" Gindorelle was interrupted a loud crash as Thranduil harshly set down his wine goblet on the table.

"I would like to myself clear that we will not be using fire or anything of the sort! It is far too risky that the other trees will catch fire and we will not be able to stop it. Besides, we cannot blindly kill all the humans. They may have settled there with their wives and children, and should we kill them, we shall be called murderers shall we not?" The members of the council exchanged looks of surprise. Ausocitin had not said anything particularly aggravating, but Thranduil was nearly seething.

Images of fire and an echo of the horror that had filled his heart long ago had brought itself to the forefront of his mind. The charred armor-clad bodies strewn about the great rocky spires, and the reptilian body of the Serpent hovering in the distance as the sky was blemished with smoke— I will not see this forest burn. Never again, never again...

Gindorelle began to rise from his seat. "It is the best way to exterminate the vermin without endangering our own men!" He began taking steps towards the king. Not yet! Not yet! Ausocitin silently pleaded. "King Oropher took serious heed of advisor Ausocitin's wisdom and the kingdom thrived! Now look what our beloved Greenwood has become." Thranduil watched him cooly under slack eyelids; cold, deadly, collected.

"Enough, Gindorelle!" growled Captain Denisale, also rising from his seat. "That's treason you're talking!"

Legolas stood abruptly between Gindorelle and his adar, coming face to face with the General. His azure eyes flamed as be pulled his shoulders back to his full height. "I suggest you take your seat General, or I will send out an order to arrest you."

Gindorelle sneered. "On what charges ernilnin?"

Blatant fool! We ruin his reputation, not ours!

Without a word and quick as a flash, Legolas reached behind Gindorelle's cloak and plucked a dagger from the back of his belt. Legolas smiled coolly as Gindorelle paled.

"Perhaps for carrying a concealed weapon into this chamber when you know very well it is not allowed, disrespect to those above you and abuse of their proper titles, as well as your untimely outbursts during this council meeting."

"A council that you are no longer a part of. I relieve you of your duty, Gindorelle." With a wave of his hand, Thranduil had the two guards carrying out a shouting and thrashing Gindorelle.

Ausocitin scowled. Gindorelle's position as General had played an important part in his plan. But then on the other hand, perhaps the plan was better off without a fool that carried around weapons to important meetings. His eyes turned to Denisale, the captain.

"Now perhaps we can address our current concern without interruptions," Thranduil said, the irritation obvious in his voice.

Master Healer Filendis spoke timidly, "Maybe advisor Ausocitin is right. We can not afford to risk the lives of our soldiers to these barbarians."

"And be labeled as killers? I don't think it will help our current situation much," said Legolas.

"Well they are taking from what little provisions we already have and are harming our people. We must act very soon." Captain Denisale's brow was furrowed in deep thought.

"I still say we burn them out. Gindorelle was right to some extent. It may not be the best option but what better can you think of?" Ausocitin said with that familiar edge to his voice saying 'you have no choice but to listen to me' that always made Thranduil's blood boil.

The Elvenking looked up from where he was twirling the wine in his hand-blown glass goblet, trying to keep the heat in his chest under control.

"Is that a challenge or just a mutiny? An insufficient ruler I may be, but I fool I never was." Thranduil had risen and began walking towards the elf to punctuate his words. His anger blazed hotter than it had in a very long time with pent up resentment. "You are up to something, Ausocitin. Don't think I haven't noticed. Tell me what you will but you seem to forget who's really king around here, despite how much you may wish it not."

Ausocitin backed away from Thranduil. They eyed each other carefully. You will regret that, elfling. I know what you fear.

The advisor reached overhead and took a candle from the chandelier with a sly look. He then threw it onto the bark shreds in the center of the large oak table, causing the decor to flare up in a tall flame from a sweet-smelling resin in the centerpiece.

Heart leaping in his throat, Thranduil stumbled backwards as the flames shot up in front of him and he braced against the wall, desperately trying to will away the visions of that horrible night that threatened to take over. Dear Valar not here not now— Ausocitin you sly little beast!

The flare had actually been quite small and had died out almost as fast as it lit up. None of the other council members had even moved from their seats.

"That's it isn't it?" Ausocitin said with a condemning tone. "You're afraid?" He laughed aloud. "To think we have a coward for a king. If it wouldn't be for your cowardice Thranduil, we wouldn't be in this situation would we? Smaug would be dead, and everyone would be well! No wonder our queen is dead." He glared at Thranduil who was still bracing against the wall and massaging his temples, his knees threatening to buckle, and the horrible flashbacks of fire and anguish taking over his field of vision. Filendis was at the king's side in an instant, trying to help him control his labored breathing. Legolas had moved to Thranduil's side and Denisale had rushed to block the doorway.

Of all the nerve! thought Legolas. No one spoke to his adar like that; King or no.

Thranduil shoved the memories to the back of his mind, the mention of his wife getting the better of his tolerance. He pushed the elves away and stood almost nose to nose with Ausocitin. He was positively seething. He had not been this angry in several millennia.

Unprecedentedly, the skin on the left side of Thranduil's face began to shrivel back, exposing raw muscles and glistening tendons as it stretched down to his neck. It climbed his cheek to his eye which became a cloudy white before it reached the side of his temple.

"I am no coward." The king didn't yell, yet his voice seemed to fill every corner and crevice with an ominous hiss. The room itself seemed to darken, and he took a step forward, pushing back the quite horrified advisor. The muscles pulled and bare, scarred veins pulsed as he talked.

"If anyone here is a coward it's you. You know very well the rehearsed lies you tell my people and how they're tearing apart this nation. My father trusted you once; I trusted you once, but now I know what you really are. Traitor."

Thranduil pulled away from Ausocitin as the scar wound itself back down the side of his face, disappearing as if nothing ever happened.

The advisor backed away and hurried out the door, receiving a smoldering glare from Captain Denisale.

Thus his age-old grudge of anger appeared. Oropher, Ausocitin, and exactly two healers who had sailed to Aman alone knew of his face-off with the Serpent and what it did to him. The people of Greenwood remained ignorant of the zealous bravery of their once-prince.

"Aran nin are you—!" Filendis almost squeaked. Even being a Master Healer he had never seen anything like that.

"I'm fine!" Thranduil snapped rigidly as he brushed the Healer's hand off his shoulder and turned on his heel, his rich, silver embroidered ceremonial robe whooshing behind stiff, broad shoulders as he marched out of the meeting chamber. "Meeting is adjourned," he called over his shoulder.

Legolas stood frozen on the spot, his eyes wide and brows furrowed in horrified bewilderment. He exchanged uneasy glances with the other ellyn in the room then followed his adar out of the chamber.

oOoOoOo

Special thanks to my beta, Scribbles-on-Parchment! Your undying support means the world to me :)

Elvish translations:

Aran, aran-nin... king, my king

Hir, hir-nin... Lord—, my lord

Ion, ion-nin... son, my son

Edain... (the race of) Men

Ada, adar... father

Nana, naneth... mother

Ellon, ellyn... male elf, (pl.)

Elleth, ellyth... female elf, (pl.)

hannon-le... thank you

Ernil, ernil-nin... prince, my prince