Hey guys, I'm back. This has been a long time coming but I'm going to stick it out this time. I have back up.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Prologue

King Thranduil lounged lazily on his throne, surveying the kingdom around him. He thought of the dwarves and the fate that had met them only hours before. He scowled as he thought of their greed and stubbornness. They disgusted him. So many years of peaceful trading and cordial relations all ruined by the greed of a weak king's heart.

'You are awfully quiet today,' he murmured after some time.

'Am I?' a female voice replied from down below.

He glanced down with an incredulous look at the elf standing to the side of his throne. His guard was never too talkative, but she would have her input if she deemed it necessary. It was strange, but he found it oddly refreshing when most of his people were too frightened to speak freely to their king.

'Well, I must say I am disappointed,' he sighed.

'And what would you have me say?' she asked. Her icy blue eyes were hard when she looked upon him.

'I would have you speak your mind, as I so often enjoy hearing you do'.

Whilst one listening in may have assumed that his words were those of affection, they would have been mistaken. Indeed Aranel heard the deadly soft dare of a challenge in his voice and knew that if any time were right to hold her tongue, it would be then. She knew that she pushed her limits sometimes when it came to her king, but every other time there had been no serious dispute.

'I do not believe you wish to hear my thoughts, my king,' she countered calmly.

He leapt up from his throne and swept gracefully down the steps to stand before her. Silence enveloped them for some time as he surveyed her with a curious expression.

'I wish to know your thoughts,' he stated quietly, but Aranel could hear the command in his tone.

She swallowed and lifted her eyes to meet his. 'I think you're a coward'.

'You think that I should have risked the lives of our people for those greedy little mountain dwellers?' he hissed.

'Some of us would consider it worth the risk'.

'Oh? And where is their petition to their king? If there are so many who seem to share your love for the dwarves, where are they now?'

Aranel flinched. He was right. It pained her too much to think about her comrades all turning their backs on those in need.

'It doesn't matter whether there are others,' she swallowed thickly and gathered her confidence. 'Those people did not ask for this to happen. They are innocent. You let your pride and arrogance get in the way of doing what is right. You care more about their king's slight than you do about risking your own people!'

'How dare you!' he thundered. 'Our lives are vastly more precious than any of theirs. What becomes of their people is entirely the responsibility of their king. As for the innocents, do you really expect that they would do that same for us if we were in their place? Think of your young sister'.

'Do not bring my sister into this,' Aranel hissed. 'You turned your back on our allies. They need us!'

'Then go to them!'

'What?'

'Go to them,' he repeated in a dangerously calm voice.

'I don't understand'—

'To think that after centuries of shadowing me, you would think so lowly of me. If I am not fit to be your ruler, perhaps the dwarves will accept a stray. You are hereby banished from this kingdom. You may not return. Gather your things, you will leave at first light'.

'But my sister'—

'Your sister is to remain here where it is safe. She is much too young to wander the realm of men without protection'.

'I can protect her!'

'Truly?' he smirked. 'Nevertheless, here she shall remain'.

'You can't do this, I'm all she has left!' she cried.

'I grow tired of this conversation. Leave now of your own volition before the choice is made for you'.

With that he turned his face away from her and made his way back up the steps of his throne. Unable to muster any further response, she stormed from the room. It did not take her long to gather the few personal items she could carry. There was tension in the air as she passed some of her comrades and they looked on her with pitying eyes. Word travelled fast, it seemed.

Unaware of where she was going, she found herself on the familiar path to the terrace where her sister often had her lessons. She heard the clashing of wooden swords and the shriek of her sister as she fought off her attacker. Keeping to the shadows, she watched as Vanora fell to the ground with a thud.

'You're doing well,' the familiar voice of Tauriel encouraged. She offered her a hand, which Vanora took without hesitation.

'I don't think I'll ever be a warrior,' Vanora sighed.

The older elf patted her hair affectionately. 'We cannot all be great warriors like your sister. Uildor says that you are becoming quite the healer'.

'But you can do everything. Aranel can do everything too. Why am I struggling so much?'

Aranel continued past the terrace, making sure that she could not be seen by the two elves. What could she possibly say that Vanora would understand? Perhaps Thranduil was right. The world was a dangerous place after all, and with the darkness an ever-present threat, Vanora needed to remain in the sanctuary that their home provided. Glancing back towards her sister one last time, she left her home behind.

xxx

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