Thranduil had found himself even more uneasy than when his ride had first begun. Things had been going well. The forest was a rich green with blooming gems of flowers all around. The songs of birds and the occasionally bold and curious creature had been calming his nerves. Everything had been going as it should until he'd heard shouts coming from the east of his wood. Stopping to try and see what the commotion was had been a mistake. No sooner had the king commanded his mount to stop had someone come bolting out from the trees running full sprint into his elk shortly after shooting an arrow at his pursuers. Shock quickly turned to anger which was abruptly punched out of him by the all consuming feeling that he knew this trespasser. The unidentified male had been dressed in black, silver, and blue and carried a white bow with silver arrows accompanied by an ancient blade of moonlight with mithril hilt. He wore no shoes and the raven hair simply had made his pale skin and pale blue eyes shine. Thranduil had found himself at a loss for words as the stranger blinked dumbly up at him from his position sprawled out on the path. The main comfort of the situation to the King was that every single guard in the immediate area had responded immediately and in less than a minute the trespassing elf had been hauled to his feet, bound, and led away undoubtedly to the dungeons. The starlight haired king watched the group leave until they had completely vanished into the forest. With a crease in his brow and a gnawing ache in his gut Thranduil had continued his ride through Greenwood hoping it would alleviate this strange sensation of familiarity. He was certain there was no way they could have met. The raven haired elf's hair was too dark for anyone he could have ever net in Imladris or Lothlorien and even the Silvan elves of the woodland realm never had truly black hair. If Thranduil had seen him before he would have remembered it. Not matter how far into the forest he went the feeling never did get any better.
The Elven King had tried to go about his day as usual and if anyone noticed something was off they said nothing. He tried to keep this up for a few days. Completing paperwork, attending meetings, keeping up to date with the opinions of his people and keeping up his image in the public eye were things that were far more important than focusing on an intruding elf who tried to kill his men. Yet every time the matter of what to do with the elf in the dungeons came up Thranduil found himself avoiding the question and obsessing over the incident in the forest. The more the king tried to avoid the matter of the raven haired elf the worse he felt and the more violent his dreams and nightmares became. What had started out as heart wrenching excerpts from the time before his birth in Middle Earth had slowly become depraved images of darkness, violence, and death. How such things could ever be associated with a single elf male he could not fathom. Thranduil had taken to assuming , along with his healer and friend in whom he'd confided his troubles, that it was all stress and grief induced. His friend had even gone so far as to give him sedatives and nightly doses of starlight to try to soothe the horrific images swirling in his head. Nothing seemed to help however. One night about five days after the raven haired male had been brought into the palace Thranduil made a silent trip to the dungeons. He was hoping beyond all hope that perhaps seeing the visage that plagued his mind might ease his nightmares. Thranduil had become very much aware that the blurred image of black hair and silver cloth that appeared in his dreams had to be this elf. No one else that he'd ever seen had black hair.
From high atop the dungeons he watched. Thranduil watched his prisoner night after night from his place by the waterfall. He watched as the black haired male struggled to test the walls and gates of his cage. Pulling and pushing fiercely at them ultimately knocking stone loose as if it were moss and bending the enchanted iron gates like they were saplings. Nothing ever did give enough to free him though and the gate would always return to its original shape. He watched as his captive's attempts became more frantic and almost panicked. As he reached out trying to grab any guard who came too close, rushing the door whenever someone had turned their back to him. On one occasion the raven haired male had caught hold of a guard and had sharply smashed him into the bars and stone outside the cell in an attempt to get the keys. Had said guard been carrying keys the raven haired captive would have succeeded. As the days turned into weeks Thranduil saw the other male's fight ebb away into what seemed to be fear and depression. As if he'd resigned himself to whatever may come next the raven haired male had slunk into the back of the cell, just out of the king's sight, and huddled there unmoving.
On the fourteenth day there had been a council meeting called. It was intended to be about what would or could be done about the dragons terrorizing some of the elven and human trading towns in the far north. The decision to aid their kin and fight had been quick and at a later date the discussion would likely turn toward when they would go and how many would go, but for now it was done. Thranduil had remained stationary on his antler throne long after the council had left. He'd been thinking about what to do with his prisoner. It had been two weeks now and something had to be done. Of course he'd have to be questioned at very least but if his initial response to his imprisonment had been anything to go by, Thranduil worried that the raven haired elf may become violent again. Sighing and rubbing his eyes the Elven King slowly let himself drift off into a shallow slumber where he sat.
"I don't like cages," the all too familiar voice seemed to echo from all around him. There was no scene. Just blackness a voice and the ever blurry visage of the raven haired elf male.
"They remind me too much of something…" the voice trialed off and almost sounded pained. As if someone was trying ever so hard to keep away from tears.
"Of what?" Thranduil asked quietly surprised that he could hear his own voice for once. He swiveled his head trying to see something. Anything. Yet there was only blackness in all directions.
"Of a darkness that once tried to spread here from far in the East," the voice spoke with a slight wavering and Thranduil knew immediately that the voice's owner was now crying, "Of black tendrils that tried to take root in the souls of my father and I. I never want to even think about it again!" The way the words echoed around him broke the star lighted haired king's heart. He wanted to reach for the owner of the voice. To hold him and tell him it was okay. That he was safe now. That he too knew the horrors of this shadow. But he could not. Like a tether pulling and tugging at his mind Thranduil found himself being pulled backward. Back to his body. His halls. His throne.
"My King!" the word had been practically shouted at him. Suppressing a slight flinch Thranduil found himself looking down at a very angry looking Captain of the guard. With the most casual stance and fiercest glare he could muster the Elven King stared down at the red haired elf male currently glaring him down.
"What is it?" Thranduil's tone was cool and almost bored while his eyes told another story. The Captain visibly flinched and took a step backward while directing his searing gaze at the stone floor.
"Forgive me," the red haired Captain began through gritted teeth trying his hardest to hold his tongue for the memory of his punishment for his prior outburst was still all too fresh, "I was inquiring of my lord as to what should be done about the prisoner. It has been fourteen days now." The red haired male pointedly avoided mentioning that the king had fallen asleep. He certainly did not need to make things any worse. He was still sore from last time he'd spoken too boldly. Thranduil audibly sighed sinking deeper into his throne. Closing his eyes and with creased brow the Elven King thought on his options and on the dream. It had been as though it had come in answer to his fears that the raven haired male may become violent if brought out from the dungeons. Saying a silent prayer to whoever may listen to him and hoping he wasn't making a grave mistake, Thranduil opened his eyes and rose from his seat.
"Place him in a guest room near my own chambers," the words seemed surreal as they left the King's lips. It almost seemed as if another being entirely was speaking for him. There was no logical reason to have a prisoner moved to a guest room. Ever. Yet that was exactly what he had just ordered. Moving softly and elegantly passed his captain the starlight haired king caught a glimpse of the shocked red haired elf. He didn't stop to look back or wait for a reply. Thranduil's footfall had been aimed solely to the dungeons. If something went wrong in the process of moving the raven haired male, he wanted to see it.
To the Elven King's interest and near surprise the raven haired prisoner had not fought. He'd attempted to exchange pleasantries with the Captain and his white haired underling who came to escort him and the walk through the woodland halls had been silent and quick. The raven haired male had taken extreme interest in studying the palace as they walked and didn't notice that they were being followed or watched. After the prisoner had been placed inside his new chambers Thranduil approached the two who'd escorted him there.
"Place two guards at the door," Thranduil instructed keeping the self doubt the was gnawing at his mind out of his face and voice, "He is not to leave this room unless I summon him." The Elven King had quickly silenced a protest or question from his Captain with a simple bit of intense eye contact. A sharp nod and a soft "Yes my lord." was the reply he got from both of them. It was late and the moon would soon be high in the sky. Thranduil decided that he would try to get some sleep and leave the questions for the morrow.