A/N I hope everyone had a great Christmas even if it may have not been what was expected!

On another note, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that there is a new chapter and the next is mostly written. The bad news is that we are now at the end of what I had previously written and though I will try my best to keep up with posting, the post will most likely be farther apart from now on.

o0o

The number of days continued to grow as did their grasp of the language. And Thranduil kept searching for quiet places to be, though he really had to work hard at losing Elrond, and now Celeborn, to truly be alone. Though he never struggled to lose his guard. Thranduil needed the quiet.

"What is it that you're doing?" The soft femanine voice pulled him back from the place he had been searching within himself.

He looked up and was greeted by Queen Lucy. She blocked the sun from his eyes and as if to proclaim its joy at having her bask in its rays, it haloed her head in golden light. Her question echoed in his head. How does he explain? How can he tell her that he is searching down his bond for his people, his kingdom. And that it hurts to feel it stagnant. That to be so used to having such life be a part of him and to then find it nearly void hurts. But it's still there. There is still a bond, but he can not reach the otherside, and it causes an ache inside him. How can he explain that?

"I am searching," he says at last.

"What are you searching for?" She is innocently curious. Unaware of the pain the question causes.

He takes a deep breath and rises, "I am searching for something I lost."

Her smile is gentle and she nods towards the near trees. "Would you like to join me?"

He can't turn her down, she is a queen and here he is no one. "Lead the way, your Majesty," he said with a gesture and a bow of the head.

As they make their way toward the trees, Thranduil's centaur guard joins them. He gives Thranduil an annoyed glance, which Thranduil returns with a blank stare.

It's a peaceful afternoon, and Thranduil lets himself relax as they walk down the soft forest floor. He can hear the rush of a small waterfall nearby and wonders if that's where she's leading him. They soon come upon it and the queen sits on a rock and dips her toes in the water, which causes Thranduil to realize for the first time that she was barefoot.

"Come join me," she said.

Thranduil lowered himself to a rock beside her and let his fingers trace through the water. He tried to prepare for any questions she might have, though he hoped she would not get personal.

"Do you like the woods?" she asks.

He sees the expectancy in her face and knows it's a true question. "Yes," he says, "I like the woods."

She stares at him a bit longer, nods her head, and then looks at the water. She reaches out and lets the falling water run over her hands. "I love the woods. I also love the beach and the mountains. But the woods are special, they feel like home. You'll have to come to a dance one of these nights. The fauns and the dryads dance all night, it's just wonderful…" her voice trails off.

Thranduil let her voice fully calm him as he remembered his own peoples' night time dances. The elves of Mirkwood would fight hard and play hard. More dangerous and less wise is what they call them. And it may be true, but it is a danger born out of necessity. And as for their wisdom, well it's a wisdom different from the high elves, it's not born of books and legends, but it's born of blood and war. It's a wisdom that has kept Thranduil's people alive, and that's all that he cares about.

There was a shift in the atmosphere, and a shiver went down Thranduil's spine. He looked up at the centaur where he stood a few feet away. "Do you feel it?" he asked.

The centaur looked around, "Yes, something has changed."

"What is it?" Lucy asks.

"Come on, your Majesty. It is best if we return," Thranduil said, as he stands up and gestures for Lucy to come with him.

The queen had just gotten to Thranduil's side when it happened. The first sign that Thranduil had was a gutteral screech, and then there were dark figures coming toward them. In a quick move, Thranduil grabbed Lucy and dove to the ground, just in time to miss a set of arrows that were aimed at their heads. He then quickly came up and found himself face to face with an orc. He dodged a sword thrust, grabbed the ocrs sword hand, and then twisted. He ignored the painfilled howl as he then, with full force, shoved his knee into the orcs face, crushing it. Thranduil didn't watch the orc fall. He grabbed the sword from the useless hand and quickly turned to meet a new opponent.

"Elf scum," the new orc said in its guttural speech.

Thranduil easily dodged its blow and then in quick succession, he ran the orc through. The hot black blood dripped from the blade onto his hand. He felt a slight shift in the air and moved in time to dodge a blade aimed at his head. He was now faced with a bigger orc who wore actual armor-each piece a prize from a kill.

It's voice was low and grating, as it began to describe how it will make Thranduil's death painful and how it would degrade his body.

Thranduil smirked, it was a cold unfeeling thing, and said, "That will be hard to do without a head." And before the orc could respond, a mighty cut from Thranduil's sword went right through its neck, and then as if in slow motion, the head fell off.

A quick look around told Thranduil that all the orcs were dead. Two lay at the feet of the centaur. And to his surprise, one was dead at the feet of the queen with a perfectly placed dagger in its heart. Though, it was easy to tell that the orcs had been more interested in Thranduil himself.

"Are you alright, your Majesty?" he asked

"Yes I'm alright," Queen Lucy said a bit breathlessly, "What were those things?"

Thranduil looked around at the dead orcs, "Fowl. Come, let's get you to the castle."

The guard then came up beside them and gestured to the bloody sword still crutched in Thranduil's hand. Without breaking eye contact, Thranduil slowly gave it to him. Then he turned and begane walking back down the path. Let the guard watch over his own queen, he thought. Of course, was another bitter thought, the blame for the attack would fall on his shoulders. He probably shouldn't have responded to the orc.

Peter had a headache. If what Oreius feared was true, then their trust had been broken and his little sister's life had been put in danger. That he could not abide by. He looked at his siblings where they perched on the thrones beside his. He was sure they thought the same as him, if the intensity in their gazes was anything to go by. He did wish Lucy had not come though, but she had insisted, stating she was fine and had a right to be present.

The large Throne room doors were opened and the three elves were let in. Peter set his gaze and straightened his back-he was High King and he would present himself as such. The elves made their way down the long stretch between the door and the thrones. They did not hurry nor did they seem to slow their steps in trepidation. They merely walked in calm confidence. Peter could see that occasionally one would say something to the others, but their words were much too soft for human ears.

A loud bang resounded throughout the throne room followed by the booming voice of the General, "You now know our language, and you will be expected to speak it!"

Peter looked at the three elves as they now stood before the thrones, there seemed to be a palpable difference about them since the General's words. He could not see it, but he felt it-a chilling of the air around them.

They presented their half bows and then Elrond, who stood in the middle, spoke, "Forgive us your Majesties, we mean no offense. We simply tend to forget ourselves and fall back on our own tongue."

Peter did not believe that they ever forgot themselves, at least not in front of others. There always seemed to be weight to their actions. Every raised brow, laugh, and gesture was molded to their necessity. Peter could not claim to know them well, he was much too busy to have spent any amounts of time with them in the past few months; yet in the moments he had been with them they had been highly aware of themselves and others (though except maybe the times they had first laid eyes upon each other-but that could be forgiven them). Though perhaps he could try to claim some knowledge of Thranduil. Yet, if he was being honest with himself, all he could really say of the elf is that he was not easily broken.

"Of course, and no offense was taken," Susan said with a pointed look at the General.

"I am sure you are curious as to the reason for your summons," Edmund got straight to the point.

Elrond inclined his head in aquicence, "Yes, your Majesty would be correct."

Peter wondered if they had decided that Elrond would be their spokesman or if he had just naturally fallen into the role. "We have certain questions in regards to the recent attack. I believe you were there, were you not Thranduil." It had not been a question. Peter was not in a mood to play at pleasantries. He's sister had been in danger, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. And it would be on his own terms, if they wished for Elrond to answer their question then he would aim his question at the others, beginning with Thranduil.

"Yes I was there," Thranduil answered the non-question.

"And is it true you knew those...beasts?"

"Not those beasts, as you call them, specifically."

Oh he was good.

"I believe my brother was asking whether you had seen their kind before," Edmund said.

"Yes, I have."

"And you know them well enough to understand their language?"

"Yes, I understand some of it."

"And what did the one you spoke with in the attack say?"

"He was merely informing me of the ways in which he would make my death painful."

"And what did you respond?"

"I in turn informed him that what he planned would be hard to accomplish once I removed his head."

"And then what did you do?"

"I removed his head."

Susan uncomfortably cleared her throat. "Thank you for telling us Thranduil. I believe, now that you can, it is time that you tell us of your beginnings."

"I am afraid, Your Grace, that a recital of our beginnings would take a very long time," Celeborn spoke now.

And Peter was glad. At least his answers might be longer than Thranduil's one sentence answers.

"But," Celeborn made eye contact with the other elves and something passed between them before he continued speaking, "We are now able to share of our arrival in your realm."

That got everyone's attention and Peter sat a bit straighter.

"Our realm? So you are of another realm?" he asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"What sort of realm?" Lucy spoke for the first time.

"It is a realm much like your own. There are mountains and rivers and cities of stone. There are good creatures and there are those that wish harm."

"And of what creatures would you be a part of?" Peter asked.

"We try to be good," Celeborn said, "We have fought the shadow for many a long year."

"Shadow?" Edmund asked with a raised brow.

"They are those who wish harm, such as the creatures that attacked the Queen."

"And how did you and such creatures leave your...realm?"

"That is a question that we have, as of yet, found no answer to."

"You see, Your Majesties," Elrond continued the narrative, "It was quite sudden and not a choice made of our own free will. We were in our home and then we were not. We do wish we could be more forthcoming as to the how of our arrival, but our lack of knowledge does not allow us that."

Peter found himself believing them. Perhaps it was the sincerity of Elrond's gray gaze-the appeal to believe the truth of his words. Or maybe it was the warmth of Celeborn's voice that would make anyone think that to not believe what he said would be the same as not believing that a tree grew skyward.

Peter looked at Thranduil. He had remained silent other than to answer the specific question asked of him. He had not infused his words with warmth nor had he allowed his gaze to add to his claims. He answered what they asked of him, but he would give no more. This elf was someone important-they all were. It was stated in the straightness of their backs and the glint in their eyes. But Thranduil seemed to carry himself with an extra alertness, as if at any moment he expected an army to fall upon him, and if such a thing did occur, he would not be caught in any weakness. And now that Peter saw their innocence, he could admit that it was such a mindset that saved his sister.

"I believe that all your questions have been answered," Lucy looked at her siblings, "at least the ones that brought this...meeting...about." Peter knew she had been very close to saying hearing, and she would not have been wrong. "But I believe that there is one very important matter left to cover, and that is the offering of my thanks," She held Thranduil's gaze, "Thank you dear Thranduil, for I am fully convinced that you saved my life."

Thranduil bowed, it was not a full bow, but it was deeper than anything he had done before. And when he rose again, there was a change about him. His lips curved upward in an almost smile and there was a merriment in his eyes that made them look like a cloudless summer sky. "There is no thanks necessary, dear Lady, I am only glad that the joy you bring to this world was not cut short."

"Nevertheless, it is given," Peter said, and Thranduil once again bowed, though not as deep as before.

"Though I believe that we still have some questions," Edmund said.

Susan looked across Peter to Edmund with an annoyed look before looking back toward the elves. "Yes, but I am sure that those questions can wait until after lunch, which I hope our guests will join us at."

"It would be our pleasure, Your Majesty," Elrond answered.

"Well then, let's not tarry. I am sure we are all suitably famished. If you will follow us."

And with that susan dismissed the attending lords and soldiers and led the small delegation to the private dinning area of the royals.