There was a large bonfire in the middle of the camp; reminding Zillaryn of the times she had seen the Riders of Rohan do this in their travels across the plains. She sat at the back of her covered cart, her feet were propped up against the edge of the cart as she leaned back against one of the casks. She watched as the soldiers finally relaxed around the fire, talking about the journey thus far and hoping that they had seen the last of the torrential rain that had plagued them the last two days.
She glanced behind her to see Sador grazing in the field with the other horses, the large elk among them clearly standing out. A throat cleared behind her and she turned back towards the fire. Haldir stood there with a small plate of food, extending it out towards her, "I thought you would be hungry."
Zillaryn smiled softly, "Thank you, Haldir."
"May I?" He pointed next to her on the cart. He waited a moment until she gave him a slight nod, then he climbed up next to her. They ate in silence as they watched the soldiers begin to laugh and joke as they finished their meals. The Marchwarden set his bowl down on the cart with a sigh, "You've been sorely missed, mellon nin (my friend)."
"I'm sorry," Zillaryn muttered, "It was never my intention to cause more pain."
"We cannot change what's past," Haldir said, looking back out to the soldiers, "But I do hope you will not hide away from us going forward."
"I cannot promise anything," She looked over to her friend of more than a millennia, "But I will try."
"Good," He smiled and took another bite of his meal, "It will be nice to have proper competition in training once more."
Zillaryn laughed as she picked up her food once more.
Thranduil had watched the exchange from across the bonfire, noting that it was the first time he had seen a genuine smile grace her features since the journey began three days ago. Now he stood alone at the edge of his tent, watching the silence of the camp. He often found peace in the late night when the world around him slept, finally giving him a moment to be alone with his thoughts. He almost turned to retire to his bed for the evening when he saw a silhouette dart along the line of soldiers' tents.
His grip tightened on the sword at his side as his eyes narrowed. The figure moved from the remainder of the tents and into the trees, and silently the Elvenking pursued. He maneuvered between the trees silently until he stood at the edge of the tree line at the edge of a small stream. He looked down along the rocky bank of the stream and saw the figure next to the water.
She were curled up next to the running water, her arms wrapped around her legs, and she held them close to her chest. He stepped softly until he was next to her, "Zillaryn?"
In one swift motion, she swung around, falling backward, her hands slipping into the water. Her eyes were wide with fear, followed quickly by recognition. Thranduil raised his hands towards her to show that he meant her no harm. "I apologized for startling you," He lowered himself down to the ground, so they were eye level, all the while maintaining a safe distance as not to scare her further, "I saw you flee into woods and was concerned."
She took a ragged breath as she straightened up, removing her hands from the chilled water, "You did not need to worry, Your Majesty."
"There are many things I do not need to do," His voice took on a hint of arrogance that Zailaryn remembered, "But the health and safety of those in my caravan will always be of importance." Thranduil spoke softly and sat down the rest of the way onto the soft grass, "Are you alright?"
Zillaryn watched him for a long moment as she considered his words, reflecting on the sincerity of his tone. She nodded her head in response as she moved to sit next to him and looked back out to the water. They sat in silence for several minutes before she spoke, "I don't sleep well."
He looked down at her just in time to see a flash of sadness cross her face, "The way you moved into the trees did not reflect restlessness. It seemed more akin to fear."
She did not return his gaze, but he noted the tremor in her hands as she whispered, "I have nightmares."
Thranduil didn't need to ask what the nightmares we about; of course, he knew. Offer comfort; the thought came into his mind without realizing it. Before he could act on the impulse, he rose, offering his hand down to her, "We should return; there is a long day of travel ahead of us."
She hesitantly took his hand, he helped her up, and they quietly made their way back to the encampment. He turned back towards the entrance of his tent.
"King Thranduil?"
He turned and met her gaze, "Why—" Her brow furrowed, and she shifted uncomfortably, "Why have I not seen any Duag Mor Vagol (Soldiers of the Black Sword)?"
Sorrow crept into the corners of the King's gaze. The way the moonlight struck his face, Zillaryn would almost guess that a tear had begun to form.
"The battalion was never replaced," His eyes drifted beyond her, drifting back into a memory, "It would have been a disservice to the memory of those lost on that day."
Without another word, he went into his tent, leaving the former soldier watching after him.
Polodrea reared upward as the Orc screamed and charged towards Thranduil as he pulled one of his blades from the neck of the previous Orc that had been foolish enough to attempt such a futile attack. After quickly dispatching the charging creature, the Elvenking glanced around the small clearing to see his soldiers pushing the enemy back toward the mountain pass. The Duag Mor Vagol (Soldiers of the Black Sword) moved with the lethal precision Thranduil had trained them for; they would offer no mercy and give no quarter.
The Elvenking lept from Polodrea's back and joined his elite squad in ground combat spinning his twin blades around him as he took his place at the front of the line. He positioned himself next to the Mor Vagol (Black Sword) Captain, an ellon who had served by the Elvenking's side for almost three millennia.
Suddenly, Thranduil felt something crash into his back, and he was thrown to the ground. He was able to look up just as he saw the Orcish blade fly over his head and sink into a nearby tree. Realization dawned on him, and whatever had shoved him to the ground had saved him from being struck in the back.
The pressure lifted from his back, and he looked up to an imposing sight as Captain Vonondiel's daughter, the only elleth among the Duag Mor Vagol (Soldiers of the Black Sword), decapitated an orc with her sword before turning back to her King.
He took the proffered hand and felt her pull as he righted himself once more. "There was not time enough to call out to you and alert you of the creature's intentions. Diheno nin, Aran nin. (Forgive me, my King) for knocking you to the ground in such a manner."
"Your apology is appreciated but not needed," the Elvenking looked down at the bruised and battered soldier, "You acted in the way you thought best, and I will not fault you for such an action." For the first time, Thranduil noted the green of her eyes, a beautiful contrast to the black of her uniform and armor, "Return to the battle. Aid your brothers in arms."
The young soldier placed her hand offered a reverent bow, "An Eryn Lasgalen e an i Beleg Penedharan (For Greenwood the Great and the Great Elvenking)."
She turned and made her way back into the battle, fighting closer to the edge of the pass with a ferocity that made him proud to witness. The ground beneath him shook as a loud crack came from above, pulling the gaze of elf and Orc alike.
Orcs lined the edge of the cliff as they shot arrows below. Terror sunk into Thranduil's chest when he saw several other orcs behind the large stones atop the cliff.
"DADWEN NAN! (FALL BACK)"
His voice thundered around the pass but was drowned out by the sound of the stones careening down the cliffside. They crushed those in their path, and deep grooves cut into the earth. Thranduil looked around and saw the ten black-clad soldiers beginning their retreat as Orc's seized the opportunity to retreat from the battle and back into the mountains.
As Thranduil heard another stone dislodge from above, he looked up and followed its path until a voice cut through the chaos.
"ARAN NIN! (MY KING)"
He looked down and met terrified green eyes pleading with him from across the clearing that quickly vanished behind the large stone that seemed to cut the earth in two as it connected with the ground. He heard the screams as the entire battalion fell into the raging river below.
Thranduil began to run toward the edge of the cliff only to be stopped by other soldiers, "Get them out of the water!" He ordered, and several soldiers began running along the ridgeline, searching for a safe place to start making their way down. In that instant, Thranduil heard another loud crack from above and looked up as another stone made its rapid descent toward the river. For a moment, he felt his heart stop as it fell over the ridgeline and—
"NO!"
Thranduil sat up in his bed, soaked in sweat with his sheets twisted around him. He put a hand on his chest while he tried to calm his breathing. Confusion clouded his mind as he noted the beginning rays of sunlight creeping through the seams of his tent. He hadn't relived that moment in decades. He hadn't remembered things so vividly, so why now?
Of course, I know why he thought to himself as he threw his blanket off of him and stood up.
"Her," he whispered.
He quickly dressed in his traveling clothes and walked out the front door of his tent to see the soldiers bustling around camp; packing things up so they can continue their journey as quickly as possible. The soldiers who did realize that their King was now among them offered quick bows before carrying on with their duties.
A loud neigh caught Thranduil's attention and he looked across the encampment to see a dapple grey horse animatedly shaking his head as his owner teased him with an apple. Her green eyes seemed to shine in the morning light and she looked more carefree than he had ever seen her.
The Elvenking sighed as he watched the playful exchange, the horse very determined to get the second apple that she hid behind her back.
"I must make things right."
A/N: I hope you are still enjoying the story. Please feel free to leave review, they truly help keep me motivated. XOXO Presephone