The Elf King

(A/N: Not quite a child appropriate story for Percy to tell, but then again pretty dark stuff was once read to children.)

The Drowned Elfin Child

"Alright, children, alright, gather around," Percy said with a laugh as the children began to swarm him on his return from the fishing trip. "I take it it's a story you wants to 'ear."

"Yes sir," Sigrid said for herself and the other children.

"What sort of story does you want to hear?" Percy questioned, letting the children clamber for a spot on his knees.

"A love story!" Sigrid said.

"No! An exciting one!" Bain insisted.

"I want something different. Tell us about Dale and the Lonely Mountain!" another child said.

"We've heard that one a million times!" a fourth argued.

"Well, maybe I can come up with something all of you can agree on," Percy said.

"Really? What is it about?" Sigrid questioned, eyes wide.

"Well, it's a love story, but not romantic love. It's a family's love. But it is very sad, and might be scary too. The ending is not a happy one," Percy answered.

"Oh… Who is in it?" Sigrid asked.

"Elves," Percy replied.

"What is it called?" Bain asked.

"The Drowned Elfin Child," Percy answered.

"Drowned?!" one of the children gasped in horror.

"I warned it was a sad tale. Legend has it that up the forest river there is a great Elven kingdom that has endured since the first age. In that kingdom lived a little elfin child who was very curious and loved to explore. He lived with his mother and elder sisters and his brother and younger sister. It is unknown which of the two elf boys was youngest, but 'tis safe to say they was but a year apart probably at most," Percy said. "Those little elf lads, they got themselves into all sorts of mischief, and their mother would always warn them never to go too far and to not stray too close to the rivers when she wasn't around, especially the Enchanted River at night. Do you think they listened?"

"No," the children all said together.

"Right you is. The two elf boys always would wanders down to one river or another and get into all sorts of trouble there, and climb trees and go fishing and swim sometimes with their younger sister, though they never went at night. The rivers was their favorite place. Does you know why?" Percy asked.

"Why?" the children questioned.

"Because their ma didn't want them there alone, and you little ones always take a liking to things your parents says is bad for you or dangerous," Percy said. The children giggled. Percy smiled. "Well, in time the elfin boys got to thinking what was so special about it at night that they wasn't allowed to go, so they asked their mum, and she told 'em and 'er daughters, 'Go not near the Enchanted River at night especially, for at night there walks along its banks the Erl-King himself, and stories say he has no love for naughty little elflings who disobeys their mothers. It is said that if the elf king finds a disobedient child near the banks of the river, he will catch them unawares from behind and drown them with his bare hands!'" Percy narrated, suddenly seizing Sigrid and making her scream in terror then burst into laughter, wriggling as Percy tickled her. Percy chuckled and let the girl go. His expression became grave again. "Well, the little elf child said to his mother, 'I do not fear our dark king, or his wandering shade. He will not drown me or my brother or my sisters, I will not let him!'"

"What did his mommy say?" Sigrid questioned.

"His mommy said, 'Doesn't you go down by that river, little elf child, for that is where the elf king lurks, and that is where your father fell in and drowned by the elf king's hand,'" Percy replied.

"But you said the elfling's mother told him the elf king only went after children!" Bain argued.

"The elfling said just that thing exactly to her," Percy said. "She replied, 'The elfin king does not stop at children, little elfling. Even big elves are his target, for the river he has claimed as his haunt, and any who pass it by trespass on what is his and so they must fall in too.'"

"If the elf king that bad?" Sigrid asked, eyes wide along with the other children.

"The elf king is truly wicked and cruel and merciless," Percy answered. "He sneaks from the forest, sometimes, and he takes away little children who sleep in their beds to be his slaves or children for his elves. Sometimes in their place he will leave a fae child to replace the stolen one, and the parents will not even know the difference until it is too late." The children looked uneasily at one another, wondering if any of them was a changeling. "Is the story too scary now, children?" Percy questioned.

"No, Percy, go on, go on!" Sigrid insisted along with Bain and the others. "We want to hear what happened to the elf child!"

"Well," said Percy, "the elfin child's mother left that night, leaving his sisters to watch over him and his brother and younger sister. She warned them 'Do not take your eyes off of your brother, for I fear he will wander away down to the Enchanted River and try and confront the elf king.' They agreed to this, and she left. They didn't take their eyes off of their little brothers and sister until they were sure the two were sound asleep in their beds. They knew they wasn't supposed to leave their siblings, but that night the elves would be feasting and dancing in the woods, and the elf-maid's older daughters desired 'orribly to go, so once they was sure the two ellons and the elleth were fast asleep, they slipped away. Turns out the little elf child could not sleep that night, his thoughts consumed by the elf king and wondering what he looked like, for though he was their ruler he had never seen him before. So he snuck out of his window while his brother slept, determining to go see what all the fuss was about with this elf king."

"And then…" Sigrid asked with baited breath.

"Off he totted down the road until he came to the Enchanted River and looked about. He saw no elven king there, but maybe he wasn't walking yet. The elf child decided to climb up a tree and wait for the elf king to come in hiding. Then the elfling decided he would kill the elf king with his slingshot and avenge all the little and big elves he had killed by this river; or maybe to just talk to him. The elf child didn't know yet. So he crawled out onto the branches and waited… and waited… and waited…" Percy said. The children listened, eyes wide. "Meanwhile, the elf child's sisters had come back and found their little brother missing, the others still asleep. Immediately one of the daughters raced off to search for her brother along the Enchanted River, totally unafraid of the elf king because she knew she had to get her brother and save him."

"I would do that too if Bain tried something like that," Sigrid said, frowning at her brother.

"You's a brave lass, Miss Sigrid," Percy said. "She ran as fast as she could, calling her brother's name, but she was far away still, and the elf child couldn't hear her coming… But he saw the white, eerie figure of the Elf King wandering down along the rocks of the river, singing a mournful song. The little one didn't understand why the elf king seemed so sad, and he got to thinking maybe the king wasn't evil at all and just lonely. But he stayed put, just in case, and stayed silent. As the erl-king neared, the song became dark and twisted and sinister so that the child began to shake in fear, eyes widening. He didn't think the elf king was just sad, anymore. He saw long claws reaching from his hands, and saw sharp teeth, and he knew the elf king was not like other elves. The elf child was so scared he nearly started to cry. He wanted to run away, but he didn't dare move. Or couldn't. Some say the elf king knew he was there and cast a spell on him to keep him put. Then the elf king began calling, 'Where are you, dear child? Where dost thou hide? Why hast thou hidden yourself among the trees? I only want to play, my darling one, come play a game with me…' Then the elf king vanished, and the little one didn't know where he'd gone to, but the forest was silent," Percy said.

"Where is his sister?" Sigrid fearfully asked, for though she knew where this story must be going, part of her still hoped and prayed the little elfling would escape. It seemed wicked elves hurt the smaller number of good elves as much as they hurt humans.

"His sister he could hear calling, and he decided he'd best take that moment to run to her, but suddenly he gets himself seized from behind!" Percy said, grabbing Bain. Bain shrieked and began whimpering, shaking with tears in his eyes. Nonetheless he stood, listening in morbid fascination. "The elf child, he tries to scream but the elf king has his hands wrapped around his pretty little throat, and the elf king says, 'I've found you'. The elfling, he tried to scream and fight, but he couldn't, and then the elf king drags him from the tree and shoved his head beneath the water, holding him there. The boy struggled and struggled and cried and wanted to scream for his mother or sisters, but the elf king did not relent… and soon the struggling stopped, and the elf king let the body drift far away down the river, never to be seen again…"

"Wh-what a-about his family?" Sigrid asked, tears in her eyes as well now, along with the other children.

"They never saw him again. Legend says if you travels up the Enchanted River a fair distance, and look into the depths, somewhere below you will see the body of the elf child beneath the water, looking as if he's just asleep. But if you tries to go down and bring his body up again, soon as you gets near something will seize you from behind and force you down until you drown and join the elven child in his watery grave," Percy said. "So remember, children, always listen to your parents, and never go up the Enchanted River near the realm of King Thranduil, for if you does, he'll find you there and you'll never be seen again." At the close of the story the children wandered off, and Percy went on his way.

1 Week Later

"My King," a voice urgently said as someone entered the throne room as quickly as she could.

From his carven throne the Erl-King looked up. "It must surely be something important for my Captain of the guard to see it fit to barge into my Throne Room without summons or warning," he cautioned dangerously.

"Forgive me, Hir-nin Thranduil," she answered, kneeling quickly before him then rising.

"What is it, Tauriel?" Thranduil questioned.

"My-my Lord we… we have found him," she said, voice wavering ever so slightly, tears burning her eyes. Thranduil sat up straight, eyes widening ever so slightly. There was a beat and then he rose swiftly, marching quickly. She hurried to come alongside him and guide him to the place they had found.

Thranduil gazed numbly into the swirling river. Beneath the waves, caught just so in the rays of the sunlight that were fast moving and hiding him from view again, lay a small elfin child with beautiful dark hair. Legolas stood at his father's side looking pale and emotionally drained, as did Tauriel. "Get him out," Thranduil whispered. The elves began to try. While they did, Thranduil remembered…

LotR

He remembered how oft she would tell her children not to go near the riverside without supervision. He remembered how oft they disobeyed only to be found by her or their sisters near to it and have to be dragged back protesting vehemently, saying they were big enough to be near the river if they wanted, saying they weren't infant elflings anymore… But they were… They were… He remembered her repeated attempts and talking them out of going there and warnings. He remembered he never gave them any such warning… He was always so busy, so preoccupied with his duty as king. She had been the one to warn them so desperately, especially warned them about avoiding the rivers at night. She would try to frighten them. She would tell them how often he wandered by the Enchanted River, and would tell them that if ever he had spotted them there, drowning would be the least of their worries… And she was right… Had he ever seen his sons near that raging river, heads would have rolled and they would have been severely punished. He had ensured his children had a healthy fear of his wrath ingrained in their heads so that they would obey and not get themselves hurt…

He remembered his father, his mother, his kin, and all who had been lost and mourned, and he would recall them in a song melancholy and frightening at the same time. He would sing it by the river and she would always spin that fact into a marvellously horrifying tale linked with it that kept his elflings far, far away in the evenings…

And then he had gone off in the first assault against Gundabad. It was not meant to be a battle, it was meant only to keep a vigil on Angmar. That vigil had turned into a battle that had lasted for months that he had been unsure he would return from… And then news came to his family that he would return, and his children had wanted so desperately to greet them but had now known how long it would take him to come back. He was supposed to return in time to enjoy the celebration prepared for him in the woods, a feast and dancing, but he had been detained and unable to attend, though it would go on as scheduled. After it was all said and done, she told him that his daughters had put the little ones to bed and gone into the forest to join the fae dance… And that that was when one of their sons had slipped away…

His elfling had been so certain that ada would come back that very night and desired to wait for him and surprise him with Legolas, but Legolas had been asleep and the other could not wake him and so gave up trying. His little one had known that ada would come along the Enchanted River so had gone there and hidden himself high up in a tree intending to attempt a sneak tickle attack on him… And he had come along the Enchanted River, and he had been alone and singing his sad song… He had felt eyes on him… Suspecting a child of his, and willing to overlook the transgression, he had called out to the child, humoring him in a game of hide and seek. Then he heard one of his daughters calling her brother desperately and become concerned. He should have stayed. He should have followed instinct. He knew he should have stayed, but fearing for his little one, fearing he had judged what he sensed wrong, he had raced to find his daughter and help her search for him. He should have stayed by the river. All of him had told him to stay there and yet he denied it. Long had he prided himself for learning from the mistakes of others… And then he had made this one.

Hardly had he joined up with his daughter racing for the river, hardly had she told him what she suspected, when they heard the shriek and the splash. They had run as quickly as they could go… It was too late… A mortal arrow belonging to a man was stuck in a branch, and hooves were heard galloping away from across the river… Blood was on the rocks where his child, startled by the arrow and having fallen into the raging river, had struck his head and knocked himself out… The river had taken the body far away, and though they had searched and searched, scouring the banks, settlements, and nearby cities, they had not found his child alive or dead. If the vanishing of Isildur's body in a river was anything to go by, they might have never found it…

LotR

Fate had placed the patrol in this spot at this exact time of day when the rays of the sun had lit up a dark recess of the river and revealed the pale body, untouched by time or decay. Fate had placed it there not for his sake—why would he be so fortunate and loved by fate now when he never had been before?—but for the sake of the mortal child that belonged to the man of Laketown who was dying in his father's arms as the steed charged through the woods. Thranduil held his child's body, had so desperately wanted to embrace it. Now it was here. Now finally his child could be buried… And then came the galloping, and he had known what must be done. Legolas had protested vehemently, livid at the idea of surrendering the body of his brother again. He had not followed. Tauriel, though, had run with Thranduil alongside the steed… The one daughter—cruelly enough also the only one not his by blood—that the child had seen who had not been an illusion conjured from memory. Memory of two elven maids who while more beautiful than any other upon Middle Earth, say for perhaps—and that was a big perhaps—Galadriel and Arwen, were also wicked down to the depths of their hearts…

Wicked… They had not always been so, but after the death of their brother by an accident of a mortal man, who had mistaken the boy for a bird and turned his bow only just in time to avoid hitting the elfling, and yet could not save the startled boy from tumbling into the river; and the death of their mother, who had died at Gundabad protecting their other brother, cruelty had grown in their hearts. Cruelty to rival that of the Elfin Queen's herself… and his… But while the Elfin Queen was wicked only sometimes, her daughters had been wicked always from that day on. Perhaps it had come from him… His daughters had been cruel always and defiant, yes; but wicked only after hatred for mortal kind—men in particular—had seeded itself in their hearts; and goodness knew they had had reason to hate men.

LotR

Now, at least, Thranduil was once more in possession of his son's body, Bard having given it to him without any strings attached say for a question of trade which was optional. He rode deep into the woods, and there he joined up with Tauriel and Legolas, both dressed in mourning. He dismounted his elk, and the three of them went to the graves. The tomb of mother and sisters all… Now the grave of brother as well…