The trees were quiet as Thranduil rode alone, still clinging to the feel of Harune's hug and Ailunai's goodbye kiss. He could no longer see the palace and he would not reach it until midnight if he turned back now.

Thranduil cared not to stop. He ate his lunch still riding and tried to ignore the eyes of the elves he passed on the wide road. They pitied him; the prince sent to his death by his own mother.

Thranduil tossed his head and his red braid slapped his back. He turned his horse off the road and trotted into the trees. He followed his compass and the map he occasionally spread open over his knees, passing cottages and farmhouses.

Mirkwood stretched on over gentle hills and through abandoned dells where elves had once tried to live and failed, not knowing the ground would turn soft if they had preserved on for another year. Thranduil rode for days and it was only when he was past the last road and the wilderness turned to land no elf had trod before that Thranduil realized he was alone.

The trees were thick and prickled with tough bark, seeding small forests of saplings around their wide bases. Thranduil's horse broke through underbrush and foliage thick on low vines and bushes. The birds sounded different; their calls were deeper and echoed longer without interruption.

Thranduil stopped counting the days and forgot he was a prince. He held onto his horse with his knees, his arms outstretched to feel the new land around him. He forgot Oropher and Natelle and cleared his mind of the terror of silver moose.

He decided he loved Ailunai.

One sunset Thranduil crested a hill and Thranduil gasped at the pink and purple in the sky. He looked down into a wooded valley that deserved to be remember in poetry and paintings, with its wide green fields patched among the stands of green trees.

The hill sloped down into the valley, but Thranduil was tired. He pulled his horse back to the tree line behind him and tied it to a tree. He unstrapped his bow and set out to hunt dinner. After his meal, he slept with the scent of the smoke from his small fire still in his nostrils. He wondered if this was silver moose territory and awoke to half an answer: his horse was gone.

Thranduil knew there was no point looking for the poor animal; four paw prints the size of his face told him his horse had fed some creature bigger than he dared imagine.

Thranduil belted on his sword and cut a staff to help his descent down the steep slope into the valley. He slipped and slide in the loose dirt, avoiding jutting rocks and hidden holes. It was foolish of him not to have realized that, where there were big moose, there would also be big predators.

By afternoon Thranduil set foot in the valley. He took a breath and then another. The trees here did not know him, but they reached out at his touch and Thranduil greeted them tentatively. The trees were fleeting and hard to hear and offered no clues as to the nature of the valley.

Thranduil passed few broken sticks and saw no scratches in the trees. Here it smelled of solitude, as if day and night waltzed together sunrise after sunrise. Small rabbits and squirrels with their noses snuffling stopped to look at him.

The animals were curious, Thranduil realized. They had not seen elves before and so were not afraid.

A flash of silver startled Thranduil. He whirled around and was met by silence. He saw the silver again in the corner of his eye and turned again to see nothing.

Hot breath on his neck made Thranduil freeze. Slowly he looked behind him into a wall of bristling fur and the rainbow-blue eyes of a silver wolf twice its height, its teeth bared.

Thranduil fled. He knew he could not outrun the beast as it sprang after him; he grabbed a low branch as he passed underneath a tree and swung up onto the broad limb. The wolf reared to snap at his ankles, but Thranduil leapt away and climbed higher into the tree. When he could no longer see the ground, he stopped and sat with a sturdy branch under him and his back to the trunk.

Thranduil traveled between the trees, daring to descend into sight of the ground. He rolled down branches and swung with his hands and feet, landing lightly and running even lighter. He found no evidence of dens or further sight of the wolves and, feeling safe, slid to the ground to hunt his dinner.

As night fell and Thranduil found a sturdy spot with a branch to lean on in a tree, the deep howls of wolves rose around him. The valley trembled with the noise.

Forgetting about sleep, Thranduil followed the sound trail until he crouched on a branch and parted the leaves in front of him to look out into a hilly meadow. His breath caught in his throat; silver moose were grazing by moonlight, seemingly undisturbed by the howls surrounding them.

The animals were huge. Their eyes were proud, but their branching racks of horns were prouder. A top the hill at the other end of the meadow stood on guard the leader of the herd, his head raised against the sure weight of his crown.

Thranduil saw small moose with nubbly horns grazing in the shadows of their mothers. The animals were unaware of his presence.

The herd started, raising their heads to the sky. Thranduil saw the shadows of the silver wolves slinking into the valley and his hand tightened on his bow.

But the moose did not turn to flee. As the wolf pack prowled into the meadow, the leader of the moose took the head of his herd. He stamped his feet and, when the wolf leader only bared his teeth, he charged.

A fearsome battle ensued. Fur and blood spattered. Wolves howled in rage and were beat down by moose spitting with in fury. Thranduil sat enraptured and watched, awed that the moose needed no help.

A wolf skidded away from the pack. A smaller moose but by no means tiny panicked and zigzagged. His young horns said he was ignorant.

Thranduil contributed an arrow to the fight and the wolf plowed to a halt with Thranduil's missile in its neck. The young moose rolled its eyes and stood panting. The wolf pack took to flight. The king of the herd trotted to the young moose's side. For a moment his lordly yellow eyes met Thranduil's.

Thranduil sighed and turned away. Back at his lonely camp he drew his knees up to his chest. It was not right to take such free and majestic animals just to satisfy the malicious needs of his queen.

Thranduil.

Thranduil jerked upright, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword. He squinted into the darkness beyond the firelight. No one.

Ailunai's unmistakable laugh floated out of the tree to his right, followed by her voice. "Oh, Thranduil, you are priceless!"

"How are you here?" Thranduil gasped.

"Why!" Ailunai exclaimed. "I am a tree oracle, after all. Anyway, we were all worried about you and it is not as if we could send a messenger. How do you fare?"

"Terribly," Thranduil said gloomily.

Ailunai sniffed. "It is not an easy job extending myself miles through the forest to talk to you. I do not exactly appreciate your gloom when I can only keep this up a few minutes."

"Sorry," said Thranduil. "I love you."

"How sweet!" Ailunai said. "I love you too."

"Pass on my love to ada."

"Naturally," Ailunai said. Her voice began to fade. "Listen to the forest, Thranduil, it will not let you down . . ."

Thranduil built up the fire enthusiastically. He was done hunting after silver moose. He was going home to his family. A part of him said Natelle would be furious, but her fury was dimmed by his drowsiness.

The next morning Thranduil put out the last coals of his fire, shouldered his longbow, picked up his stick and marched out of the valley. It was only once he reached the top of the steep slope and he stepped into the trees that his energy began to dimmish. He stopped for a short break and became aware of the young silver moose he had saved standing behind him.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at the animal. The moose stared back at him.

"How long have you been following me?" Thranduil wondered.

The moose tilted his head. He approached Thranduil and nudged at his hand with his horns. Thranduil hesitated before he patted the animal. His horns were fuzzy but already bigger than the racks Thranduil most often saw on the stags of Mirkwood.

The moose jerked its head back. Thranduil yelled as he was scooped onto the animal's back. He landed clumsily and wrapped his arms around the moose's neck as he took off running. He seemed to know the direction Thranduil was going and joyously carved a path deeper into the forest.

Gradually Thranduil loosened. He sat up straight and watched the ground blur by beneath him. The moose was swift and surefooted, skirting trees and leaping fallen trunks.

Thranduil began to enjoy himself. Perhaps a little too much.

The moose grazed by night and was always there in the morning to give Thranduil a ride. At his swift pace, Thranduil realized he would reach the palace in better time than he had left it.

As he reached the settled parts of the forest and dared the strike out on the open roads, he became aware a silver moose attracted attention. Elves stopped to stare and whisper to each other along the edges of the road, pointing and staring.

Thranduil said thoughtfully, "Royal is a good name for you."

The moose, head in the air, strutting as if he knew he was the center of the show, made no objection.

"Or perhaps Ego is better," Thranduil said.

Royal snorted and attempted to buck him off. Chuckling, Thranduil held on and wound his way homeward.

Several days later the palace swung into view. Thranduil's heart picked up Royal trotted around the last bend into the road and the mossy eaves of the palace filled his breast. Royal snorted and jerked his head as he almost plowed into the back of a vast gathering of elves.

As the elves looked toward him and a cheer gathered in the air, Thranduil realized they were people from the surrounding villages and farms; servants from collected estates and shopkeepers. As he looked further toward the palace gates, the elves parted to make way for him.

Thranduil's eyes swelled. They were all here for him. He raised his hand and waved as Royal strutted to the palace gates. By the time he reached them, the iron grate was raised. Thranduil passed into the walled garden.

The pebbled paths and flower beds were flawless. It was Harune standing to the side of the path that made Thranduil smile the widest and jump down to hug him. "Ada!"

"Oof!" Harune said. "You reek."

Thranduil laughed as he stood back. "That is the first thing you say to me after weeks apart?"

Harune touched his cheek. "I missed you, ion nin. I am happy you are home safe."

"How did you know I was coming?"

"Ailunai is very perceptive," Harune replied.

"This is Royal," Thranduil introduced his new friend. The silver moose lowered his head to sniff Harune's loose brown hair before nudging under Harune's hand for a pat.

"I think he likes you," Thranduil said.

Harune smiled. "I am glad you are home. I would have been proud if you had come home with nothing too."

Thranduil tilted his head to one side. "I promised to come home, ada."

"And I told you not to make promises you cannot keep."

Looking up, Thranduil spied tiny tears in the corners of his father's blue eyes and reached in for another tight hug, realizing it had been perhaps even a more turbulent trip for Harune wondering if his son was alive or dead.

"I never once thought about never coming home," Thranduil said quietly. "Though I admit I did think about coming back without Royal. The silver moose were so wild and free and so full of life, I did not have the heart to take one away from its home. Royal chose to come with me."

"Where do you propose Royal stay?"

Thranduil looked at the majestic animal nibbling on cultivated grass. "Mirkwood is his home and I do not intend to keep him here against his will. Being quite well-behaved, I think the stables will make a good temporary home."

Harune kept his arm around Thranduil as they walked through the garden and took a side gate on a pebbled path toward the stables. Thranduil left Royal unburdened in a grass field with a handful of horses, aware Royal could jump the surrounding fence and be gone yet knowing the moose would linger for his sake.

"Were you lonely without me, ada?" Thranduil asked, as they walked toward the palace.

Harune chuckled. "No. Sapphire came to stay. Now, let us clean you up before you greet the King and Queen."

So concludes a brief and intentional rite of passage in Thranduil's young life. Do share your thoughts!

Next Chapter: Oropher finds one more reason to be furious.