The Woodland Realm

Chapter IV – From the West

Year 3429 of the Second Age

Thranduil stood patiently outside the sword halls with the book that he had promised to Elleina, he felt some measure of nervousness which he was not accustomed too. It was a little after noon and he suspected that Alarielle would be along shortly, his stomach twisting ever so slightly as he thought of the elleth, foolish he thought to himself, he was a warrior and a prince and as such should not feel unease about meeting with an elleth. No matter her beauty. He watched as a number of guards and warriors came to and from the training halls with each of them bowing their heads in reverence to him as they passed by. He had made quite the impression on the few elves that were sparing earlier in the day, Thranduil himself was impressed with the prowess of the woodland guards and though he had bested all five of the warriors who willingly sparred with him, it was no easy feat.

The silvan of the Greenwood fought so differently from the Noldor and sindar warriors, the Noldor fought as one would a duel, graceful and deadly yet calm and precise. The sindar he served with during his time at Doraith fought as a unit, in formations of spears and bows citing the strength of an army was the many and not the few. The silvan were suited to fighting in the forest, yet he doubted their effectiveness in open battle, something he fear would be coming soon.

"My prince?" Came a soft and gentle voice, drawing him from thoughts of battle and tactics. He drew his eyes from the sword halls and turned to face the owner of the voice. Alarielle. Thranduil forced away the small knot that had formed in his stomach and gave a small smile to the elleth before him, she wore a dress of crimson as she had earlier that morning and held in her hands a small book that had appeared to have seen much use.

"My lady, I trust that the little elfling was of further mischief after you departed this morning?" He enquired, earning a broad smile from the elleth and a chuckle.

"She is a handful my lord, but she means no harm and she spoke of you often after we left" Alarielle replied, her soft smile remaining on her fair and beautiful face. Thranduil felt his heart warm and her words, perhaps he was not so hopeless with elflings as he thought, his mother would be very proud indeed.

"It warms my heart to hear so, your daughter is a credit to you" he spoke as he came to stand a little closer so to not appear so distance and formal.

"Oh, my lord, she is not my daughter" she quickly replied.

"Apologies my lady, I was wrong to assume" he replied, of course she wasn't, the child herself had referred to her by name and not as her Naneth.

"Worry not my lord, her father was slain in a skirmish in the south not a year ago" Alarielle replied with a sombre tone, causing Thranduil to feel pity for the young elfling at such a loss. "Her mother passed from grief not long thereafter, so she is in the care of many families, but I see to her more frequently than most" she finished.

"She has suffered much in her young life, yet so vibrant and joyous she is despite it all" he marvelled. Suddenly he felt that his woes at the flames of the dragon were small compared to the experience of losing both parents.

"That she is my lord" she said with a radiant smile which caused his weary and troubled fae to brighten just a little further, causing him to pull his eyes to the book he held in his palms.

"The book as I promised, I hope she enjoys this tale as much as I did in my youth" he spoke once he felt his fae steady itself, finding it unsettling the way it had reacted. He extended out the thin red leather-bound book for the elleth to take, she reacted quickly and took the gift from him gently, her fingers gently grazing his own and at such a moment he swore he could hear her breath catch the moment her soft skin meet his courser fingers.

"Thank you, my lord, I am sure she will enjoy this greatly" she said with a slight hitch in her tone, her eyes a little wider than before which refused to meet his own. "You do not need to feel the need to read it, it is a child's tale and I am sure she will forget to ask you about it" Alarielle added as she carefully handed over the book she carried, a slight tremble in her grip. Thranduil observed her trembling hand and feared that he was making her uneasy in his prescience.

"I am an elf of my word, I will read this for her as promised. Do I make you feel at unease my lady? Please speak freely" he asked, the elleth's eyes rising rapidly to his own, wide with alarm.

"No, no of course not my prince, forgive me if I seem tense. I am not used to speaking to royalty, so I find myself at a loss" she replied swiftly, her words putting him at ease a little, at least it wasn't him directly.

"I am just an ellon my lady, flesh and blood like any other" he countered with a small smile.

"You are hardly just another ellon my lord" she spoke quietly as a group of four elleth walked by, each glancing at the prince with interest and longer than required for a simple glance.

"It was simpler when I was" he countered with a smile, which she returned. There was that spark in his fae once again.

"Ionneg? Perhaps I bore you this afternoon?" Came his father's voice, snapping him from his daze. They were wandering along one of the many forest paths that sprung forth from the palace gates, the king was keen to show his son the woodland that was his kingdom.

"No Ada, I was merely distracted for a moment" he replied quickly.

"Distracted? You? I Think not, who is she?" Oropher questioned with a smirk. He had not missed the deep-thinking expression that was mixed with wisdom and a faction of doubt. Thranduil looked at his father suddenly, his sapphire blue eyes searching his father's grey orbs with a questioning glance.

"Whatever do you mean father? I ponder many things, few being elleth" he countered, earning a chuckle from his slightly taller father.

"do not play coy with me my son, I know the look of an ellon whom thinks of an elleth. You forget I was young once" the king pried, his hands clasped before him as they walked. Thranduil knew not what to say, it had been a week since he had spoken with Alarielle at the sword halls and he could not shift her from his mind, yet he could not figure why, nor why his fae brightened whenever he saw her within the halls or when his thoughts briefly drifted to her.

"I meant Elleina and Alarielle not last week, the young girl's tragic past lingers in my mind perhaps ada" Thranduil countered and noted his father's face fall and his eyes close for a moment before they opened again.

"Yes, a tragic fate and more a reason why I have pulled our people further northward. To lose one subject is painful enough, but an entire family nearly" Oropher started, stopping and turning to his son with grief evident on his fair and regal face. "That was a heavy burden to witness, I still grieve that I could not prevent her mother from fading, alas her heart and spirit were too hurt, too broken" he finished sadly.

"They will one day be reunited in Vanilor ada, death is merely another path" Thranduil spoke up, death to the elves was a difficult concept to grasp for their immortal race. Yet it was not final, for all those who fell would be reborn in the undying lands to await their loved ones or in some rare chances, return to Middle Earth themselves.

"It is odd is it not my son, that we should grieve so heavily when we know that it is but temporary" Oropher summarised. They continued to walk in silence for a time, when suddenly they could hear hooves upon the forest floor which caused the two royal ellyn to turn and face the source. To Thranduil's surprise and awe a great elk burst forth from the forest and halted before them, an ellon garbed in the armour of a warden and a spear in hand.

"Flevedir! Thranduil, this is Flevedir, captain of the guard" Oropher introduced, Thranduil nodded his acknowledgement whilst the captain brought his hand to his chest in greeting. "You ride with much urgency?" the king asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Indeed my king, orcs. Something has disturbed them and not our own" the captain spoke quickly. The news of orcs this far north caused Oropher great concern, the enemy had grown too bold. Oropher turned to face Thalion, whom stood a distance away to allow the the king and his son some pirvacy.

"Muster my guard, Flevedir how far are they from here?" the king asked in a commanding tone, gone was the soft-hearted father Thranduil had known and replaced by the warrior.

"Not far, twenty minutes hard riding my lord and there is something else you should know" Flevedir spoke, a glance from Oropher encouraged him to continue. "I heard shouts in Quenya my lord" said the captain. Oropher's eyes darkened and Thranduil closed his eyes at what the news meant.

"Noldor! Too the halls, we ride out at once. Pray we find them alive, so I can personally deal with their ilk" Oropher ordered.

"I am coming with you ada" Thranduil spoke, causing the elvenking to turn and face his son. The prince's expression was one that would brook no argument, something that Thranduil had inherited from Oropher without doubt. The king nodded his agreement, knowing full well that his wife would be furious with him for allowing their son to accompany him.

"Lalaith forgive me" he thought to himself

…

Thranduil gripped the reigns tight as he willed himself to mastering his riding skills to the mount below him. He had ridden horses for many ages and could fight as comfortably on horseback as on foot, yet these great forest elk were different. He rode a beast of course brown fur and giant antlers and beside him his father rode one of silver grey, the royal guard each astride one of the woodland elks as they raced between the forest trees towards there task. Whereas a horse would gallop straight forward, these elks almost swayed and bounded left and right as they weaved through the ticket, an action that Thranduil was slow to adjust.

He observed the equipment worn by the royal guard as they rode, grey cloaks fluttering from the waist as they were fixed to their belts so they wouldn't catch on the branches they raced by. They all wore coats of silver scales and plated bracers and boots and a flared helm, with a face guard of scale so that only their eyes were visible. Each held a tall spear and shield, with a sleek and curved sword at their hips, they were not dressed like those of the woodland wardens whom favoured leather and long knives. Thranduil was drawn to the sounds of clashing swords, growls and shrieks of the orcs up ahead, and as if his elk sensed his eagerness it doubled its pace, bursting into a clearing. His keen eyes scanned the battle before him, a handful of no more than ten tall figures fought desperately back to back, their golden armour marred with the black blood of the orcs. The golden garbed elves looked up in relief at the sudden appearance of their mounted aid, with Oropher surging into the melee and running his spear through a pair of orcs, whilst his giant elk gored three of the foul beasts that tried to close in. The royal guard surged in behind their king, slaughtering the foul orcs as they did so with spear, sword and arrow.

Thranduil urged his mount forward and in one smooth motion, drew his sword and cleaved the head from the shoulders of the nearest orc with ease before leaning back to evade an orc spear, his blade then coming back around and opening the creatures throat. His ears picked out the sound of a bowstring being draw taught, followed by a twang. His mount keened loudly and snapped his head to the left rapidly, causing Thranduil to be but a witness as the arrow that was meant for his throat , bounce harmlessly from the elks antler. The offending orc had already gone to draw another arrow, but before it could nock the black fletched arrow it was in turn struck squarely between the eyes by an arrow of amber feathers. Thranduil turned to see one of his father guards ride pass him and loose another arrow, casting another orc from a tree to the ground below.

The battle lasted only a few minutes as the arrival of the king and his guard had caught he orcs unaware, making them easy pickings for the keen warriors of the Greenwood. A dark-haired ellon stepped forward from the group of golden armoured elves as he sheathed his curved sword, placing his hand upon his chest as Oropher urged his elk forward whilst his guard encircled the rest.

"Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn, tar Oropher" spoke the elf as he bowed in reverence. Surprising Thranduil, his experiences of Noldor were not very pleasant, arrogant even by elven standards. The elf before him was familiar, he had seen his face in Lindon, at Gil-Galad's court.

"Whom might you be and what business do the Noldor have in my forest?" Oropher commanded. His position atop his grand and majestic elk made him appear an imposing and terrifying figure to behold, yet the elf before him did not flinch.

"My name is Elrond of Imladris and herald of Gil-Galad, I come baring word from High-king, we were beset upon by these orcs as we traversed the elven path. We have wounded my lord" Elrond spoke gently. Of course, Thranduil thought, he knew the name but had never met the lord of the last homely house in person, even when they had passed through not so long ago, he had heard nothing but good things in regard to the elf before them.

"So, the king of the Noldor seeks to speak to his rustic kin? We have not had orcs deep in these parts before, they must have followed you down from the mountains" Oropher countered defensively. The northern borders were secure and judging by the stature and pale skin of the orc corpses that littered the clearing, it suggested they had come down from the misty mountains and not from the south. The king scanned the warriors of Elrond's company, indeed most where well, bar the odd scratch or bruise but there were one or two with more pressing injuries. One had two arrows that had managed to pierce his armour and had imbedded within his shoulder and gut, a comrade was trying to remove the shaft. "I would not try to remove that arrow yet, lest you wish for him to bleed out before we can reach my halls" Oropher advised, his tone not as cold as Thranduil had expected.

"Your majesty, the arrow could be poisoned" the elf replied.

"In which case the poison will already be in his blood. The eldar are hardy to such ill methods, however my people have fended off the orcs from the mountains for decades at the border, chances are that arrow head is barbed" the king replied before turning his elk about and began to walk towards the treeline. "Break the shafts and hand him to one of my guards, we will ensure he makes it to my halls quickly, the rest of you will follow me" Oropher commanded, before his mount marched off into the forest, Thalion and his mount following just behind.

Thranduil watched as the two wounded warriors were given to a pair of his father's guards before they too rode off swiftly into the wood, his attention was drawn back however when he felt the presence of two of the royal soldiers approach him. He turned to face them and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"That was impressive work with the blade my prince and now I see what the whispers were about, I am Evandar son of Thalion and one of the warriors who accompanied you and your mother from Lindon to Greenwood" spoke the nearest guard, wielding a short-recurved bow and a quiver half full of amber fletched arrows.

"I remember, your skill with a bow is great. I know many elves are gifted as such but from the back of a mount is impressive" Thranduil replied.

"Your words honour me my prince" Evandar replied.

"You never were one to reject praise mellon-nin" spoke up the second guard, whom before now had been watching the remaining guard encircle the Noldor and lead them in the direction of the halls.

"Apologies Feren, perhaps you would like me to complement your skills with a sword also?" Evandar batted back at his fellow guardsman, earning a scoff from the other ellon.

"It would be praise but given that you do not know the tip from the hilt it would be hollow" the one named Feren countered, earning a hearty laugh from Evandar. Thranduil watched with interest, his father's advice that the Silvan were indeed different and more spirited from their own kin and the Noldor was true indeed, and to his surprise he found it refreshing. Evandar caught the eye of the prince and calmed his mirth for a moment.

"Come my prince Thranduil, we must be getting back to the halls and I am sure you do not wish to hear myself and Feren here bicker about my sword play further" Evandar commented. The prince nodded and he turned to follow his father's path, the two ellyn flanked him and his mount as they made their way back in the direction of the halls. "Besides mellon-nin" Evandar spoke, gaining the attention of both Feren and Thranduil. "The king could make us all look like elflings with a spear" Feren rolled shook his head.

"Apologies my lord" Feren spoke quietly, earning a small chuckle from Thranduil.

"Its quite alright, I think Evandar has quite the point" the prince replied. He might well like it here in the Greenwood after all.

…

Thank you for the review's guys and especially Silver-crowned Valkyrie (Again fantastic writer of Thranduil so go check out their works) and FramedCursoity.

Let me know your likes and dislikes and anything you would like to see, and I will see if I can put them into my works. The description of the royal guards is meant to reflect the palace guard armour that we see in the second film besides Thranduil and his throne, for that this point they are described as "Lightly armoured" by Tolkien himself.