Of Ice And Starlight

by TimeTraveler2233.00

In a time before the dragon had claimed Erebor and Greenwood was still vibrant, an old forgotten elf may change the fate of a king or two. This is is me. Playing with an idea and an AU involing and OC. No violence toward the author or fellow readers please. I may change the rating later though. Changed rating to "T" just in case for the upcomming chapters.

16. Chapter 16

The time was early morning. Just before the sun was to rise and the stars shone brightest as if bidding the world farewell. Himelon was perched on the edge of the window overlooking the main courtyard of King Thranduil's halls. As his eyes wandered the ground below his attention was caught by a select group of Silvan elves moving about setting up horses and taking one more look over their armor and weapons. At daybreak they were to set out for the North and there was to be no rest from when they would leave to when they would arrive. The raven haired elf's eyes drifted onto the silver bundle of fabric laying on the bed. After Thranduil had requested that Himelon join him in battle the raven haired male had sent a dove to Imladris. Attached to the dove was letter requesting the Lord Elrond send Himelon's armor to Greenwood. After the battle for Middle Earth Himelon had thought that he would have little need for his complete set of armor. In truth it was very rare for an elf to be injured in a fight and even more rare, since the fall of Sauron, was for an elf to be attacked at all. It was for these reasons that Himelon had left his armor in the care of Lord Elrond. A few days after the dove had been sent to Imladris a falcon came to Greenwood baring the bundle of silver fabric that contained Himelon's ancient armor. Silently and gracefully Himelon moved from his perch to change into his armor. They would be leaving soon.

The raven haired elf had made it himself in the shining forges of Valinor along with his bow and blade and brought them all with him when he sailed to Middle Earth. The armor itself was mithril and moonlight woven together to make strands like silk rather than links as the dwarves had done when working with mithril. It was a set of long sleeved tunic and ankle length pants. Over the top of the armor were two piece of black fabric. One to go over the tunic and another to go over the pants. The fabric that sat over the tunic was cut open to reveal the mithril beneath and the pants were the same way. The tunic fabric connected at the V-shaped neckline, the bottom of the sleeves that meet the wrists and the waist leaving slits on either side of the arms and torso. The fabric for the pants were connected at the ankles and waist leaving slits down either side of the legs. As usual Himelon was going bare foot. After putting on the light yet solid armor Himelon moved to the mirror and wove a pair of braids on either side of his hair that connected in the back and continued until all of the locks involved could no longer be braided. The effects was that of one continuous braid that began on either side of the head and flowed down the back of the remaining loose bits of hair. Atop his head Himelon situated the mithril circlet with the blue pearl that had never been absent from his brow. Swinging his bow and quiver of arrows over his back and attaching his sword to his waist Himelon paused to take in his reflection.

"Déjà vu." Himelon muttered with a soft shake of his head and a small smile. Indeed Himelon looked exactly as he had on the day Sauron fell and on that day he look exactly as he had on the day he arrived in Middle Earth. It seemed to the raven haired male that he always looked the same when something important was about to happen. And yet he could not quite place his finger on what was going to be so important about this excerpt of time. Shaking his head and giving a sharp nod Himelon glided swiftly down to the square below where all of the elves who were to leave were gathering.

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when Thranduil finished readying himself. He wore a suit of mithril plated armor that was cared intricately with elvish runes and spells for protection. His hair was loose and yet pulled back away from his face as not to get in the way and atop his head rested a woven circlet of silver gifted to him by Lord Elrond. He wore tall black boots and his extravagant rings were absent from his hands. Even in battle armor he looked ever the King. At his hip sat a sturdy silver sword with a golden wood hilt and a large emerald at the end.

Thranduil had been thoroughly unable to sleep. He had instructed everyone who was to leave with him to sleep early for they would have to rise early and would not be stopping to rest along the way. Yet Thranduil had been unable to take his own advice. The experience and loss of the last battle he had been in was still too near. The starlight haired King found the little sleep he had managed to get haunted by visages of dragon fire and countless dead bodies. Again and again the black and orange flame had bathed over him and his people while they could do nothing but flee. Then he would awake to find dawn growing ever nearer and a sickening knot growing in his stomach. Something was not as it had seemed and Thranduil simply could not put aside the feeling that he was marching himself and his friends to their doom. Despite all that Thranduil suppressed it all. His people could not see him afraid or weak. If they were to follow him into battle they would need to know that he was strong. They would need to know that they could count on their King to keep them safe. Even if he himself was uncertain as to whether he could do that. With a sigh and a silent prayer to whatever gods might hear Thranduil made his way down to the courtyard gentle step by gentle step.