Chapter: 2/10

II: Halls of Greenwood

I remember much from my infancy, as a child of Ilúvatar is graced with a sort of awareness not known to the other races. My first instant of life that I can recall was that of my mother, Eleniel the Kind, and her hair that reminded me of the whitest flowers that grew near my homeland of Lothlórien. She was a fair beauty, though even she paled in comparison to the Lady Galadriel, a woman I came to know as my kindred and family.

She passed near my fortieth year roaming the lands, during an Orc raid that strayed too close to our forests. She did not suffer, so my father told me; the blades the monsters carried were jagged but sharp and I was spared from the gore. It took a long time to pull my father from his grief, but even I fell victim to the crushing reality that I would never see her again, not even in the Undying Lands when I grew tired of Middle-Earth.

It took ten years before we left Lothlórien again, trying to find hope where we had lost so much, my father and I. We enjoyed traveling the lands, but especially visiting the homelands of other fellow Elvenkind. I preferred Rivendell, though my father frequently dragged me along to Greenwood to visit a few friends he had made there during some of his business delegations with the king. I had never met the stoic ruler until after we began our travels anew, when I was still just a child and he was recently married.

During one of our trips to Greenwood, I was playing with some of the children that lived near to the inner sanctum and the palace chambers of the king. It was a childish game of hide and seek, no harm done, and I was running mercilessly to try and find any of the children around when I ran into a pair of lengthy legs swathed in the finest of materials, fairly similar to the clothing my father and the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn spoiled me with.

"My apologies," I said immediately, only to realize as I gazed upon a face made of porcelain, that it was none other than the king himself staring down upon me with a crown made of what appeared to be branches and silvers. "My King!"

I hastily bowed, staring at the drapery covering his feet as it swished and turned towards me. He knelt to my level, causing me to stiffen and try not to lift my gaze from the floor. I may be considered that of noble blood in Lothlórien, thanks to the kinship my family shared with the rulers of the enchanted realm, but here I was a child in the halls of a great king.

"Lift your head up to look at me," he commanded and I did so. He was carved of marble with wide, analytical eyes that pierced through me. As a child, I was terrified. "Who are you, henig, and why do you run through my halls without giving sight to that around you?"

His voice was not firm, but it was not gentle either. I lifted my head up, enraged by his attitude but familiar enough to hold my tongue. "I am Faelwen, daughter of Bregolien and the late Eleniel of Lothlórien, my King. I should know to watch my steps where I do not know my way."

The corner of his mouth turned up, just enough to catch it and fleeting in nature, but I was not sure if it was from my trained words or the fire I knew burned behind my eyes. Either way, it eased my temper enough to know I was not going to the dungeon to be locked away, a child imprisoned where I did not belong.

"Your eyes remind me of my home," he said honestly and rose again. "Your father is a friend of mine. Come, let us find him so you may eat at my table, Faelwen of Lothlórien."

I did not know that, at that time, his niceties were few and far between. I was graced with such a chance that day, but was too upset to truly appreciate it. I did not know then that his beloved wife- one he had married by orders of his father, I would later learn, and did not share in the bond of our people as many that lived lives such as ours did, yet he still loved her in his own way- was the one that prompted the subtle changes in him.

He helped me find my father and that night; I was allowed to eat at the table alongside the king and queen. It was a festive night, shared in the forests surrounding his underground home, and we relished in it. Never had I been allowed at this particular table, but instead one set aside for the few youngsters of our race. Our people bred rarely, as we had eons to birth heirs, and as such it was a rarity to find more than four children in one kingdom at a time.

We left Greenwood in even higher esteem than when we arrived- which was a feat for my father, he explained, since he had been dealing with the king for some time and had made a lofty friendship with the hard ellon- and we continued our travels for centuries more before finally returning to the ever-unchanged Lothlórien.

It would be longer still before I visited the halls of Greenwood again, and the circumstances would not at all be the same.

Present

"I don't understand why I need to go to Greenwood, Ada!" I huffed, sitting atop my white steed, Erynion, and holding his reins in my gloved fingers. "Even if the war spills into Lothlórien, I can fight!"

"It is because of that reason why I send you so far from the struggles," he said earnestly, coiling his hands around mine. "Galadriel has foretold great terrors, some of which you will be a part of if you stay here."

My eyes trailed to the elleth, smiling softly just behind my father. She was every bit as lovely as I remember from the moment I could recall the happenings in my life. She spoke, "It is time you travel to Greenwood, Faelwen, and not Rivendell as you wish. Your liveliness will be missed, but your life depends on this journey."

Celeborn's expression never changed, save the small smile that left his face rather quickly. "King Thranduil has been made aware of your arrival and welcomes you into his home. Be wary of him; he is not the same as he was in his youth."

"If I must," I mumbled, but had to smile at my loved ones. "Send for me as soon as I can return home. I shall miss all of you significantly."

"Go with caution, and know our love will follow," my father whispered and I saw how pained he was to send me away. "Be safe, Faelwen."

"My love," I told him again and spurred Erynion. If I didn't leave now, I would never be able to. I would see them again soon, but for now I had to do as was asked of me for the safety of those I loved. If something dangerous was to come my way in Lothlórien, I knew my father would fall into the despair he experienced after my mother passed, though without anyone to light his way out of it.

We journeyed for weeks to get to Greenwood, where one of the few soldiers with me took the lead for our trek through the twisting woods. It took us little time to arrive with his guidance, though I was surprised no one greeted us until we came upon the doors of the elaborate structure that housed the denizens of the woods.

"Speak your name," a guard called, holding his spear tighter and refusing to open the door.

"Lady Faelwen," my guide said cautiously. "She has been allowed residency here for a short time by King Thranduil."

"Enter."

The doors opened and another took my steed to place him in the stables. I pulled the hood from my riding cloak down, feeling the fatigue weighing on me. We had not slept in days, as we were accustomed to doing so, but with the ride and the navigating, I wanted nothing more than to sleep and recuperate.

"King Thranduil and Prince Legolas await you at the throne," a guard stepped forward. "Allow me to show you the-"

"That won't be necessary." An elf with blonde hair- barely a few shades darker than mine- came forward, his dress far from that of a guard or anything but royalty. "Lady Faelwen, I am Prince Legolas. Welcome to Greenwood."

I never knew the king had given birth to a son, but smiled nonetheless. "An honor, my Prince. Am I to be shown to my rooms by royalty?"

His grin was flirtatious, but calculated. "My father wishes to offer his welcoming as well, my Lady. If I may?" Legolas offered his arm, but I was hesitant to take it.

Was it customary to do so here, or was there a meaning behind taking the arm of a man? I knew customs were different in all of the different homelands of our kindred. To do so might be considered crass or audacious, whereas if I didn't I might be seen as rude or inconsiderate to my current home. Not only that, but this ellon was nothing more than a child compared to my years on Arda.

Not worth the thought. If these elves want to think lowly of me, let them. I placed my digits on his arms and walked with my head held high through the underground kingdom. Many stared, though it could be that I was unknown here. I had not returned to Greenwood since the last time I met the king, as a child no less. I had lived for well over a millennia- had it been two?- by this point.

We wound through the spacious halls until we came to an open room with a throne made of antlers and branches stationed directly in the center down a narrow walkway. The king stood before the seat, turning to face us when he heard the silent padding of practiced feet. He did not smile and his face remained expressionless until I stepped closer. Even then, his grin was just as I remembered it: small, fleeting, and engrained in my head.

"Lady Faelwen," he said finally and descended the few stairs leading to his throne. "I trust your journey was enjoyable."

"I missed the beauty of Greenwood," I admitted to him. "My thanks for accepting my stay in your home, my King."

"An honor to have what Galadriel has called 'her jewel'." He motioned a servant closer. "Have the lady shown to her rooms and properly dressed for dinner. She will be seated at my table as our honored guest."

I forced back the scowl; I found nothing wrong with my riding pants and tunic. Galadriel and Celeborn rarely made me dress properly for our meals, and only when we had revered guests in our kingdom. Never had any of the elves of Greenwood visited, save emissaries for the king.

"Yes, my King," the elleth said quietly, never meeting his gaze.

"Ada," Legolas cut in before the king could turn. "I would not mind accompanying our guest through to the living chambers."

"Then go," he said and I noticed the small flicker of love in his eyes for his son, even as he distanced himself. It was like his smile, but there nonetheless.

As we swept from the room and into the immaculate halls, Legolas cast me that same flirtatious grin, though I wondered if he even realized he was doing it. "Right this way, Lady Faelwen."

"Faelwen alone, Legolas of Greenwood. I might ask that you save those certain smiles for a different party." I tried to play off my rejection in a jest, but he caught the true meaning in my words. He did not seemed angered by my audacity, but instead laughed. "I amuse you?"

"I suppose it is best to remain on good terms during your stay. I mean no disrespect, Faelwen of Lothlórien. I have wished to meet you for some time, yet have not been given such an opportunity." He pushed open a carved door. "You are rumored to be just as you are; beauty renowned and hair lighter than any of our people. My father was wise to take the opportunity to steal your attentions from Lothlórien so you may grace our dark halls."

Regardless of my previous aversion, I flushed. "Well met. I am not here for suitors. My place should have been with our people, aiding them in case a war has come. It has made my mood rather foul. My apologies."

He shook his head, that perpetual, soft smile plastered on his marble-esque face. "You have nothing to worry over from me, fair one. I would like you to call me friend while in my home, nothing more or less, should you have it."

"And have it I will." I grinned. "I believe I should change if I'm to be decent for your father's table."

Legolas's laugh echoed down the halls and his feet never made a sound. I admired him for it; it took years for an elf of any race to perfect utter silence, yet this Legolas had learned in a few hundred years, if not a few more.

My time in Greenwood would be pleasant, as long as I had a friend.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading!