The Elf King

by Deliverer

Legends had been written of the mysterious Woodland King, poems and stories told of daughters, queen, and king all. Few were flattering, not all were false, but some were so misunderstood. How could any tell what was truth and lie when he stayed the mystery, a story told to frighten children? How could they learn when he did not care to show the truth? Do they fear enough to kill?

3. The Elvenqueen

The Elf King

(A/N: The next chapter will probably focus a lot more on either a little Legolas asking his ada a question, or on the elf queen's darker and crueller side and her tricks, depending on what readers want. Let me know. This one is written in a more fairy tale sort of style, similar to 'The Drowned Elfin Child' only without someone telling the story. It's quite long and focuses on the Elvenqueen, mainly, and her history leading up to the birth of their first child which shows up at like the very end. Most of it is developing her relationship with Thranduil. In this chapter I reference Blackmore's Night and their song 'Darkness'. I also, and more prominently, reference the poem 'The Elfin Knight'. Tried to make it easier to understand than the way it was originally written, but it's not exactly the best version of the poem by a long shot. Haven't edited this much either, so it may not be the greatest. Hope you enjoy nonetheless.)

The Elvenqueen

Once upon a time there lived a woodsman and his wife. One day the woodsman rode through Mirkwood Forest—at the time Greenwood—to meet up with his wife who had gone to Dale to give birth to their first child. He intended to come to Dale from his small homestead deep in the forest. There he was to meet his bride who had become pregnant and who was due to give birth. Had he not been called on to help defend a settlement from marauders he would have been at his wife's side already, but because he was held in high esteem and was a valiant fighter he had had little choice but to go. As he rode he heard, not far off, some battle, and though he desired to investigate, something kept him away, some unspoken warning, for he knew of the strange beings—elves or spirits some claimed—that lived in this forest, and he knew they were dangerous. Stories had been told of their lack of fondness for men and their penchant for illusions and cruel tricks, ways of luring mortals to them and then taking them away never to be seen again or driving them mad. He rode onward, for he had been delayed in reaching his wife's side too long as it was; and besides, he would not fall victim to an elven trick.

LotR

There was great grief in man and wife both, as they rode on towards home, for the child had not survived birth, and what they carried back was the infant's body only. The woodsman's wife had not spoken. She had hardly moved or breathed, sitting still as a statue and clutching the wrapped body close, pale. Tears flowed from his eyes, but he dared not speak. He needed to try and be strong for his bride, else he would lose her too.

The silence was shattered by the wail of a babe, and sharply the woodsman's wife turned her head in that direction. Without a word or warning she sprang from the horse and raced towards the sound. He called out to her, fearful she would vanish forever in the woods. She paid no heed and so he too leapt from his horse and pursued his love. She ran into a clearing and screamed. He sped up and was quickly by her side. He paled on seeing the sight before him. Bodies of elves were spread on the ground, and of men. There had been battle. There had been no survivor on either side. The woodsman cursed himself that he had not ridden to help, but there was no turning back time now. They heard the baby shriek again, sobbing. Immediately the woodsman's wife sought it, fearing some human child had been left alive and may be dying. Having just given birth herself, her heart cried out to the little one.

They found the bundle hidden in some shrubs. She gasped, quickly pulling it out and unwrapping the blanket from the infant's head. She covered her mouth, catching her breath. This was no human child. Held in her arms was a little elf girl, stunningly beautiful and weeping, hungry and cold. Her husband drew his sword to kill the infant, for the elves were evil so stories said, and to leave one alive would be a grave error, but she would not let him. His wife begged him in tears to let her take in the infant and raise it as their own. At first refusing, the sadness and longing in her eyes finally softened the woodsman's heart, and reluctantly he agreed and was rewarded with her kiss. Immediately she began to nurse the child, and the pain she felt at the loss of her own was lessened, even if only slightly.

As they rode the woodsman wondered. They could not disguise a fae child and hide her from the others, and should they know what she was they would desire her death. Nor could they ever bring her to town, or rarely, for though he knew little of elves he understood they aged much, much slower than mortals, and this infant would remain an infant for perhaps years before it began to look even like a one-year-old. Until she was grown, or at least appeared equivalent to a youth or maid of men, they had to keep her hidden. Fortunately their home was far from any town and any settlement, but there would be those that came, and they would need to be fooled. The elven ears would give the child away. They had to be hidden. That was a task they would leave to a Doctor to discern as he would, though it was no secret they feared what the decision of the physician would be.

LotR

They had had reason to fear, and reason to regret as they soon found out; for when the physician they had taken into their confidence returned the child and revealed his remedy, horror consumed them. The woodsman's wife screamed and fainted. The woodsman stood still and wide-eyed. The tips of the ears had been cut off and sewn up so they would look human! Cut off! "It was the only way," the physician said, but the woodsman knew it for a lie. The physician had no love for elves and had likely relished in causing the babe pain. "As long as the wound remains stitched, the ears will not come back. Perhaps they will never grow back regardless." There was a sick satisfaction in his voice, and when finally they left, the woodsman's wife's rage was great. So much so that she shook with it and willed her husband to kill the physician. He refused, for the man was the only doctor nearby to the settlement they lived outside of, and should he die they would have no one. She raged at the response but understood it, and soon time cooled her anger as she was consumed in her attentions to the little elven child.

The child they called a mystery and addressed her as such, so A Mystery was the name she knew and the name she stayed by, and whenever she asked her quickly aging parents why she had not been given a proper name, and why she seemed to grow so slowly when they aged so quick, they would not say, and only told her that it was because she was not like other men. No matter how she pushed they would tell her no more, and the child grew confused and lost as to what or who she was and where she had come from. Always her father would assure her that one day she would know all. She did not want to wait to know, but she knew she must.

When the child was twenty she appeared no older than seven years of age. At that time her mother gave birth to a child, a daughter as well, and she and her human sister drew very close and loved each other deeply. All the more so as they grew. The elfin girl had a penchant for pulling tricks, sometimes cruel, sometimes playful. Those who came through their part of the woods she loved to help but preferred to mislead. She was mischievous and often cold. Many a time her parents lectured her for the cruelty of some of her tricks or games, and for a time it would calm her. It seemed, though, such things were in her nature. Nonetheless, despite all of this her life among her mortal family was happy. All the while the truth as to who and what she was remained secret.

LotR

She was thirty when the first dream came to her. Was it a dream, a summons, or a memory? A beautiful song echoing in her memories sung by a woman and a man, but not the parents she had grown with. In her dreams there came an image of a hidden kingdom, beautiful beyond her wildest imaginings. The mysterious doors opened wide and revealed a great kingdom, beautiful and sprawling, and a palace carved into a cavern deep, yet still you could hardly tell you had left the forest. The palace was filled with paths weaving in and out in a veritable labyrinth, high above ground with waters rushing below. Despite the maze-like pathways, all within seemed to know their way perfectly. There came into her mind's eye a vision of a king sitting proud upon a great throne… Then the kingdom vanished, and she saw battle. She saw an elven woman placing a small child hidden in a bush, weeping. She kissed the child, concealing it from sight, and raced to join the battle.

The child woke from her dream with a scream. Her parents rushed frantically into her room and questioned her as to the dream. She related it all to them, and it was then she noticed their grave change. "Mother, father, what is wrong?" she questioned them worriedly as her little sister rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Her mother looked away. Her father, however, answered, "It is time, child, to give you something. Something we found in the forest long ago shortly after you came into our lives."

"What is it?" she questioned.

"The key to your past. The key to learning who and what you are," he answered.

"What I am? I am your daughter. I am human," she said uneasily, but the words sounded like a lie in her mouth though she didn't know why. They were quiet. "Nanna, ada, aren't I?" she questioned fearfully. She never knew where she'd picked up the words nanna and ada, but they were what she always called her parents.

Her father did not answer directly. Instead he gave to her a little box and said, "Within are the answers you seek. Answers that even we cannot give you, my darling. It is time you learned. You are not our daughter by birth." The little girl caught her breath, paling. Gently her parents narrated all that had happened that led them to finding her, cutting out reference to what she was. "When you were settled, I returned to the clearing to bury the dead. There I found this box on the body of a woman who surely had been your mother," the woodsman finished. "In it I know you will find your answers. In time."

"Is there a key?" she questioned, tears threatening her eyes but not falling.

"There is not," he answered.

"Then how am I to open it, father?" she questioned.

"Only elven magic will do so," he answered. "I know, now, that elves are not as wicked as once I believed… When you go to them, they will help you, but do not set out for a time yet. Not until you are fully grown. Promise me."

"I promise," she said, wiping her eyes and sniffing.

LotR

Of course, for a child such as her loopholes were bound to be found in her oaths and exploited. Not many days later, she and her sister snuck out of their house. They rode to the clearing where the battle of long ago had taken place. The one that their father had spoken of. The two little girls slid from the back of their shared horse and looked around the clearing. The younger sister, only ten, slipped up behind her older sister—thirty now though she looked about ten as well—and hugged her fearfully. "This is the place, then?" she questioned uneasily.

"It is," the elf girl answered. "This is where they found me… My birth parents were killed here…"

"There will be nothing to find, sister. Let's go home," her little sibling said, suddenly wanting to leave. The forest was not safe. The forest was scary. She didn't understand why her elder sibling loved it so much and always slipped away to play in it for hours. She would never do that. It frightened her and she didn't trust it. She feared the creatures that lurked within, elves that stole away children and left changelings in their place, elves that took children to be slaves, strange little woodsmen, wildmen she believed, who were said to be evil, etc. It confused her why her elder sister seemed to trust this forest so implicitly. You would think she was born with a connection to it or something.

"Will there not be?" the elfin girl questioned, entering into the clearing gracefully and looking around for signs of visitors or ancient hints. Her sister joined her and also began seeking.

The younger went to a tree and examined the bark. An arrow may have pierced it in battle. She started as a glint shone in the bark. "Sister, come here!" she called. The elfin girl turned and quickly went to her sibling. She pried the object from the bark and let it fall into her hand. "An arrowhead," her little sister said.

The elfin girl held it up to the light. In the arrowhead were etched elven words, and part of her recognized them in some way though she couldn't understand what they said. They seemed familiar, though… The language seemed familiar. "It is an arrowhead from the kingdom of Greenwood," her sister said in awe with a gasp. "The place from mommy and daddy's stories!"

"Greenwood? But that is only a fairy tale," the elf girl replied in shock. She had stopped believing fairy stories long ago.

"Not all stories are fiction!" her little sister protested vehemently. A bitter wind blew through the trees and the branches groaned. The two little girls looked upwards and felt a chill rush through them. "This forest is so dark," the youngest whimpered.

"It is afraid," the elf girl said.

"Afraid?" the little one questioned.

"The trees have told me something dark is lingering," the elf girl stated.

"The trees?" her sister questioned curiously, looking confusedly and fearfully at her, suddenly uncertain around her sibling. "Sister, how can trees have spoken to you?"

The elf girl started, blinking. They couldn't. They shouldn't… Yet she heard them nonetheless… "Do you know where the kingdom of legend might be?" she asked her little sister. Perhaps her sibling remembered some detail from nanna and ada's fairy tales.

"I do not," her sister answered. "But we can seek it. If we follow the Forest River up, in time we might see signs of it. That is what I know for sure. The stories say the Forest River runs near the kingdom, if not through it. We will find elves there, and they might give us the answers we look for." The elf girl nodded her consent and the sisters turned only to scream in alarm and fear, for there at the edge of the clearing stood a figure in the trees, and though they could not see it they felt eyes boring into them. The figure made a subtle gesture and immediately four elves sprang from the trees with weapons drawn!

"Run!" the elf girl cried, seizing her sister's arm and pulling her to the horse. Nimbly the two leapt up onto it and galloped quickly into the forest to try and escape. But escape from what? Were the elves truly as dangerous as that? They did not dare test it. Instead they rode back to the safety of their home.

LotR

For some time neither dared venture into the trees again, but curiosity consumed the elf girl as each day went by. Their parents, though, would not permit or agree to another search. Not after hearing what happened on the last, and so after a time the quest was forgotten again. Until, that is, she reached forty. Forty when her sister was twenty and she yet still looked no older than fourteen or fifteen at best. It was a dark autumn night, when she remembered. She could not sleep, gazing instead out at the deep woods and the brilliant stars shining above, and part of her longed and ached so badly to walk beneath the stars into the dark forest. She didn't know what drew her to it, she didn't know why the desire was so strong. All she knew was that she felt she would die of a broken heart if she couldn't… So she did… She rose from her bed and she clothed herself in her most beautiful gown, though she didn't know why she felt inclined to. She left, barefoot, and wandered away into the forest. The stories her parents told, the legends and rumors of the dangerous beings lurking there, didn't dissuade her, not even for a moment. Fairy tales would not keep her from the path to the glade. Glade? What glade, she wondered? She didn't know. She just followed whatever it was that pulled her deeper and guided her steps. She just wanted to make it there… There was light. There was laughter. There were voices. She hurried onward. She entered the circle of light and then… Then she awoke in her room with her panicked family watching her fearfully and demanding to know why she had gone into the woods alone. She could hardly remember doing so and so gave little information as to her late night walk.

She would wander in the forest, from then on, more and more often. Always she felt something watching her. Always watching. At first it was only for hours she would be gone. In time hours became overnight. In time overnight became days and days so that her sister and parents became sick with worry and arguments would break out between them all until eventually they became accustomed to her coming and going, and peace in their home life was restored.

It was a cold winter's day when the next incident happened. Her father was out in the woods working, her mother running errands in town. Her sister was with a man from the settlement with whom she had fallen in love and was spending more and more time with. She was alone, lazily embroidering something she was hardly paying attention to. It was then that she heard a call. It wasn't a physical call, not one that any could hear, and yet it was. Otherworldly. Beautiful. Alluring. She thought it her imagination, at first, but it became louder and echoed in her mind and through her body. It frightened her. It frightened her so badly and she tried to turn away from it, to ignore it. She tried to distance herself from the spell it cast that seemed to lure her into the forest, but the harder she tried to defy it, the louder it became until she rose, again, and went into the woods. She came home two days later, a glazed look in her eyes. Her parents and sister, frantic with worry, demanded to know what had happened. She had looked at them and said, "I am not human, am I?" The moment she had said it, she collapsed unconscious, in a coma for a week. When she awoke she remembered nothing. Just laughing and singing and figures dancing around a fire gracefully. And she remembered an image of a king. At his side had been another elf, perhaps a knight—certainly some warrior—whose eyes, cold and yet somehow warm and amused, fell on her and made her forget to breathe...

LotR

She was in the glade, now, and around her danced maidens more beautiful than any she had ever seen before. They sang and laughed, gently touching her and bidding her welcome as she lay on the ground, ivy overgrowing her and holding her in place. It was a comfort, the ivy wrapped around her body. As if it was keeping her warm and safe. She rose and danced with them, and they called her Woodland daughter and lost elleth. She laughed and danced and played and with them felt so alive and so at home and so… so right… Nothing would tear her from that place and from their sight. She wanted to stay forever and ever, and there was feasting and more dancing and men, elf men, came out from the woods to the feast of the elf women, and many paired up dancing and laughing and feasting and partying. She never wanted the night to end… But as the morning came, the figures began to fade away. Though she reached for them they would not stay, looking at her sadly or pityingly before vanishing and leaving her all alone. So completely alone…

She woke up with a gasp in a cold sweat. This third time had been the last string binding her to denial, and she would be blind no longer. She remembered the box and all her questions, and she knew she had to find answers. She had to! She spoke to her parents and sister of the box and of her desire, and her mother and sister at least listened compassionately to her. Her father was another story. He told her simply that some mysteries were not meant to be cleared up and asked her if knowing her origins was truly worth losing her life, for they were happy were they not? They were a family, were they not? They loved one another, didn't they? He was right, she knew he was, but her heart desired to know the truth. Her heart desired to know what and who she was and where she had come from. Her father knew her desire and though he did not agree with it, he loved her and so did not hinder her when she went to walk in the forest and think and try to unravel the mystery. That was when her journey truly started.

LotR

Whenever she was in the forest, now, low whispers came to her, encouraging her to stay in the woods for longer and longer. Where at first she had resisted them, she had soon listened. She could not escape the otherworldly call that beckoned her into the Greenwood so often. When hours became overnight and night became days, she hardly realized the differences, and in the woods she felt at peace. The voice would say, 'Just a little longer. Seek a little harder. You will find what you are looking for'. Sometimes she almost believed she would. She would see dancing figures in her memory. She would hear the giggling of elves and the singing. She would see, in the nights, their fairy circles at a distance but had not then dared go near them since the dream… And she would see a figure watching her from the shadows of the forest, mysterious and alone…

As time passed and she found no hint of her past—at least not of the sort she had been searching for—she had returned home and had determined to stay there for a time with her family and try and forget. She never did, but the dreams had stopped coming, and the voices had stopped whispering, and she dared think it was over and that finally she could move on with life instead of forever chasing shadows she could not find or could not reach when she found them… She was wrong…

She dreamed one night, some years later when her sister was twenty-five and engaged. She, of course, still looked about 16 or 17. She dreamed of a great battle with a powerful being. In her dream she saw an elf kneeling next to the body of another with head bowed but no tears falling. Though there were no tears, she could feel and sense in her heart the pain and anguish ripping through the ellon. The dead one… It was the king from the first dream she had had when she was smaller! The king she had seen seated upon a throne. Her heart broke to see the once proud ruler laying broken on a battlefield. What was the younger elf at his side to him, she wondered...? And then she saw the younger elf as the dreamscape changed, and he sat upon the throne where the king had once been seated. So it was the dead king's son, and he was being crowned king of the elves, sitting tall and proud, yet still his grief she felt in her heart and soul as if she herself were bound to him, and his agony was plain to her and to his subjects.

The forest became dark, slowly at first but then speeding up. What in this dream was in the past, what was in the present, and what was yet to come, she wondered? Suddenly the image of the king's heir stood before her, back turned to her, and she realized in that moment who the figure seen long ago in the forest by her and her sister had been. The Elvenking began to turn his head, and for some reason dread seized her heart. She didn't want to see his face. She didn't want to be here! He… he frightened her… His gaze fell on her, the flesh on his face melted away, and she wanted to scream in terror and fall to her knees before him, bowing low to the ground and begging his mercy though she knew not why she would need to. Was it terror though, she wondered? Was it terror or something… more…? Because as much as she wanted to scream, she felt the irresistible urge to go to him and take his hands in hers. To kiss them tenderly and gaze into his eyes forever. His hand would slip behind her head and his lips gently press against her own in such deep love…

She woke up with the feel of his lips still against hers and the taste of honey and spiced wine in her mouth. She caught her breath, sitting bolt upright in bed and looking out the window wide-eyed. Something was out there. She leapt to her feet, gathering her robe around her and looking out the window. She saw nothing, but leaves swirled in a spiral as if something had been near. Or as if something was asking the wind to blow the leaves in such a pattern. In the darkness the unseen ghost drew her, and without hardly knowing it she left her house and walked into the woods, following the mysterious call she heard only in her mind and not in the waking world.

LotR

She came to a river, but not the Forest River. This one's waters were black, and a deep power was upon it. The Enchanted River, she knew. Its swirling waters rushed along, the sound lulling, the sight drawing… And then she heard a song being sung, low, mournful. She looked up the stream and there she saw the young elf of her dream, kneeling by the water and drawing a hand gently through it as if pondering whether to throw himself into the river or live on suffering some unimaginable pain that she did not understand or know fully beyond what she had felt in her dream. Was this perhaps still that dream, or was the figure really there?

"Do you hear me, Erl-King?" she called out to him gently. His song paused, and she knew he had. "Can you tell me who and what I am?" she questioned, not caring if this was a dream or reality. He said nothing, nor did he move. "Long have I sought your kind, for with you lies the key to my past. I have sought you but have not found you… Or dared go near enough to…" He neither moved nor spoke at all. "Grieving King, lord of a tortured land, frightened ellon, speak to me. Please," she cooed. There was still no reaction. She felt tears in her eyes but did not know why. Bowing her head she turned and began walking swiftly back towards her home.

"Maiden of a Black and dying Wood, what question have you for me?" he questioned suddenly. She paused, and for a moment she was too terrified to dare go back. She knew the ways of elves. They did nothing from the goodness of their hearts without a cost. She approached him cautiously, drawing out the box long ago given to her. "Lady of Eryn Galen, think carefully afore you approach the monster of the forest." She paused a long moment. "The monster who drowns the unwary in the river, or takes them prisoner back to his stronghold. The elf king who strikes terror into the hearts of mortal kind and steals away little children in the night or lures love struck maidens to their deaths."

She stayed still. Soon, though, she approached boldly, unafraid. "What befalls me befalls me," she answered as she neared. He didn't move or look up. That in itself terrified her more than anything else. She felt as though this was a trap, and it unsettled her greatly. She came next to his form and paused once more before kneeling at his side and laying the box down. He stirred slightly, glancing over at it, and took it into his hand, rising to his full height. A shiver raced through her, and part of her told her to remain kneeling and bow her head, yet another part wanted to rise. Rise she did, to her full height, and unafraid she looked up at him though he would not face her still, instead examining the box.

"You know there will be a price for my help," he said. She was silent. "Fear you not what it will be?" he questioned.

"I have heard tales. Dwarves, casting spells upon maidens and coming down from the mountains and sleeping with them while they cannot resist. I have heard of elves, casting spells of love upon humans and luring them to rivers to drown them, or molesting them. I understand the risk I take in dealing with the Fae."

"Not all things horrible rest solely on base urges to consume and possess, in lust and love, unwitting maids," he answered. He cast a sidelong gaze at her, meeting her eyes. She felt suddenly paralyzed, unable to move. Perhaps she was. "I know what you are," he said, reaching out and brushing her hair behind her ear. She swallowed but refused to show fear. He tilted his head, examining her ears. Always sewn up from birth for a reason her parents had never spoken of. For a moment dark anger reflected in the elf king's eyes before disappearing once more. "You will lose something today," he said. He drew a sword and dread took hold of her, yet she couldn't move. "You will lose your humanity." He swung. She tried to scream, but no sound came. The sword sliced the stitches on her ears neatly, in the process cutting them open. They began to bleed, she felt it warm, running down her face. He looked down at the box, next, and uttered some words in a language she didn't understand but that seemed familiar to her. The box glowed and clicked, unlocked now but not open. "Open it not until you have come to maturity five years hence. A curse upon you should you disobey my command," he said, handing the box back to her. He disappeared into the forest silently. Not until he was long gone did his spell end and she was free to move.

She spoke of none of what had transpired to her family, and always wore her hair over her ears now lest her father see what had been done to her and desire vengeance against the elves for her injury, though she hardly saw what the fuss would be about… Of course, since that night she hadn't dared to check what the damage had been either. A few months passed by in relative peace and quiet, and she did not think on the elf king again, or dream of him. Or so she thought… But whenever she wandered the woods she could not help but feel something…

LotR

It was the night after her sister's wedding. Her parents were gone again, saying their final goodbyes before their daughter moved in with her husband. She had said her farewells to her sibling, and so she remained in their home. Dreams again visited her. The elfin king overseeing the feasts of his people, his dancing among them gracefully, bathed in the fire's glow. And always his eyes and his voice would find their way into her heart and mind. Eyes as blue and sometimes grey as a sea or a coming storm, his hair shining like spun gold in the moonlight, his robes and cape billowing around him and throwing the leaves into the air to spin around his figure. Every move he made was grace, every flash of lighting or fire in his eyes paralyzing. He was born and bred a king and knight.

She dared not sleep anymore that night as she sat up sewing a gown. Her heart ached, but not for reasons familiar to her and that made her feel so, so scared. It ached for a creature she had seen once, not counting all the times she had dreamt of him. It ached for his touch and his embrace. It ached to hear his voice once again…

…

My gown away, my gown away,

And over the hills and far away;

And far away to Norway,

My gown shall not be blown away.

…

She heard suddenly, not far in the distance, the sound of a horn being blown. It sounded not like a musical horn, nor like a battle horn. It seemed to her enchanted in some way, and the aching pulled at her heart again. She dared look out the window. There he was, sitting upon a hill and blowing the enchanted horn so haunting… And yet the sound was not as haunting as the elf king in his mysterious beauty.

…

The elfin knight sits on yonder hill,

Ba, ba, ba, Lillie ba;

He blows his horn both loud and shrill,

The wind hath blown my gown away.

He blows it east, he blows it west,

He blows it where he liketh best,

"I wish that horn were in my chest,

Yes, and the knight in my arms to nest."

…

A sudden thought. A sudden wish unbidden. She wished that he was with her in her home. She wished he was her husband, that all that belonged to him was with her, that in her arms he would spend the night. She did not know she had voiced the thought out loud until suddenly he was there before her. She jumped, startled, and looked up at him in awe. He was in her home, sitting by her side on the edge of her bed. "Thou art over young a maid to be married to me; many an age younger than I," he said to her. "It would be ill upon you, maiden, for you are hardly more than a child."

"I have a sister younger than me, and she was married yesterday," she protested. "She is twenty-five, and here I am five years shy of fifty years of age!"

He smirked more in amusement than anything else as if he knew she did not understand something she sensed she should but didn't. "If you would be married to me, you must first do me a courtesy," he answered. "Should you succeed, you will be my wife."

…

She had no sooner these words said,

Then the knight came unto her bed.

"Thou art o'er young a maid," quoth he,

"Married with me that thou wouldst be."

"I have a sister, younger than me,

And she was married yestereve."

"Married with me if thou wouldst be,

A courtesy thou must do to me.

…

She almost thought this to be another dream, unsure if he was really there or just an illusion. "Give me your tasks," she said.

He smiled mysteriously, confident he would be victorious in this game. "You must make a shirt for me without any cut or seam. You must shape it with a knife sheerless, and sew it with a needless thread. When you have finished, I will make you my wife."

She nodded slowly, taking the tasks in and committing them to memory. Impossible tasks, she knew, but he was not the only one who could play that game. Her days of trickery in her childhood returned to her and she knew she had him. "Afore I do you that courtesy, elfin knight, you must do one for me."

"Name it and I shall do it," he promised, hand on his chest earnestly as he bowed to her.

"Do I have your word?" she questioned.

"I give it to you," he confirmed. He saw no threat in this youngling… And then she smirked, and her smirk was cold and wicked and cruel. His smile fell. He knew in that moment he had wandered into a trap.

"I have an acre of good ley-land down by the Forest River. Till it with your enchanted horn and sew it all with colonels of a peppercorn, only one. Harrow it all with a thorn and have it done by morning's light. Shear it with your knife and do not lose one stack of it for your life. Stack it in a mouse's hole and thrash it in the sole of your boots. Bring it then over the sea for me, fair and clean and dry. When that is done, you may have your shirt," she cooed innocently.

The elf king's expression was one of wonder, taken aback by the words of the maiden. He thought to back out of it, but when the Fair Folk made a vow they kept it down to the letter, and though he wanted to withdraw the promise he knew he could not. He chuckled, then, low and deep. "You have outwitted the elven king," he said in amusement to her. "Very well, I will not withdraw from my promise to you though soon you may grow to regret it; for maiden, this is no dream, and the vow of the fae will stand. Mark me well, you will be the mother of my children and my wife in time. When you do not expect, I will return, and you will be my elfin queen." She may have won this battle, but the war would be his.

"Until that time my honor I will keep. Let the elf king do what he will," she answered in agreement. He bowed his head to her and rose, leaving her home not once taking his eyes away from her. Leaving as if some apparition.

…

"It's you must make a shirt for me,

Without any cut or seam," quoth he.

"And you must shape it knife, sheerless,

And also sew it needle, threadless."

"If that piece of courtesy I do to thee,

Another thou must do to me.

I have an acre of good ley-land,

Which lyeth low by yon sea strand.

It's you must till it with you touting horn,

And you must sew it with one peppercorn.

And you must harrow it with a thorn,

And have your work done ere the morn.

And you must sheer it with your knife,

And not lose a stack of it for your life.

And you must stack it in a mouse hole,

And you must thrash it in your shoe sole.

And you must put it in the palm of your hand,

And also sack it in your glove.

And thou must bring it over the sea,

Fair and clean and dry to me.

And when that you have done your work,

Come back to me and you'll get your shirt."

"I'll not quit my gown for my life,

It lucks my seven children and my wife."

"My maidenhood I'll then keep still,

Let the elfin knight do what he will."

Years Later

At fifty she came to her full stature, and she had the appearance of an elf fully grown, say for the ears which e'er concealed what she was. Long had she hidden them and not looked at them since the blade of the elf king had severed the stitches. At this time her parents were well into their seventies and were weakening rapidly, and this frightened her. When death came to her mother in her eighties, she felt lost and mourned deeply. Her father told her, then, that soon he would die as well and that it was time for her now to find out who and what she was, because no longer could it be put off. "When I have died, you must go into the Greenwood and seek them, but always return home before nightfall, for the forest becomes dangerous then. You will find your past and the answers you seek, my darling. I promise you that you will." She held her father tightly, weeping into his arms, and nodded her consent.

Her father died at ninety-two, and she and her sister—the latter now in her fifties—brought his body to the settlement to be tended and buried with their mother. Her sister and her husband determined to stay with her for some time in the old house, until the mourning peiod was passed. There was another dream, that night. She saw in the forest, as she looked out the window, the elf king riding upon the back of a great elk and beckoning for her to come. She rose from her bed and went to him as if under a spell, and he took her hand in his and pulled her up onto the back of the mount. They rode through the constantly changing forest, and branches waved in the wind, evil things heard in the dark, but the illusions of the elfin king kept them confused and none could find the couple galloping through the forest at a breakneck pace.

There were the gates of the hidden kingdom in the woods, and there he dismounted and lifted her from the back of the elk, guiding her gently into his grand halls. She was passed off to elf-maids, servants in the palace, and he told them to bathe her and clothe her in a gown of such a splendid design she would now have known such garments could exist. He commanded that a feast be made ready and he left. The elf-maids took her into a grand chamber and there bathed her and clothed her in accordance to the king's order, and they made her ready as if she were a bride being adorned for a wedding. They pulled back her hair and she saw, then, for the first time in years, her ears. They were the ears of an elf! Her heart dropped into her stomach, her lips parting. This was what she was. This was what her parents had been. This is why she had not aged like any others! This… this was why her sister grew older looking by the year while she remained unchanged by time… She could not claim surprise, perhaps part of her had always known, but to see it now presented to her…

The scene of her dream changed, and she was walking towards the throne of her king, bold and proud. No other elven maid present could compare to her beauty. He waited patiently for her to come, his eyes brightening to see her. Her entourage fell away until she alone approached the king. She knelt before him, bowing her head low. He offered his hand to her and only then did she lift her gaze to meet his and take his hand in hers. He drew her to her feet and held her hands in his. A ceremony was being given, a language she did not understand and then… then suddenly did… Wedding vows. He spoke his words, and she her own. Of her own accord she called him her husband and gave herself to him in marriage.

Again the scene changed. A fairy circle around which all the elves danced and sang and feasted, she among them and loving every moment of it while he watched silently from his seat at the head of the table until she went to him and pulled him into the dance, beaming with excitement and happiness. Here she felt at home. Here she felt so, so right… He danced with her keeping pace, and for the first time in all of her dreams and encounters with him, she saw happiness. She saw pain slipping away from his eyes and becoming joy and… and love… And she knew this was what he had once been, long before the loss of his father, long before pain began to permeate into his life even prior to that from every angle in loss of kin, home, mother, and all. She saw him and she loved him more than ever before. Wait. She had loved him before?

The scene again had warped. He stood at the end of a long pathway in the palace, gazing back at her. She knew not whether to follow or leave. The choice was open to her. In one direction was freedom into the forest, freedom to return home. In the other there was him, her husband, her king. She made no move. He bowed his head to her and turned, walking away with train billowing behind him, and it seemed as though everything moved in slow motion. As he left pain filled her and desire, and though her path to freedom was there, she did not take it. She followed him, but he appeared and disappeared like some apparition or ghost until suddenly she was lost and without any sense of where to go… Until two grand doors stood before her… She stopped. They were the entrance to his chambers, and for the first time she hesitated. Finally, though, she pushed them open. He stood at the balcony, a glass of wine in his hand. He inclined his head towards her silently as she shut the doors behind her and locked them. He tilted his head ever so slightly and sipped his wine until it was gone, turning back to the balcony and looking out over his forest.

She didn't know what he expected. She didn't know what she did either. She stood there still… And then she let her gown slip down her arms and pool at her feet. He turned ever so slightly, vaguely interested. The air was cold on her skin, but in a good way, and subtly she shivered. He placed down his empty glass and entered his bedchamber. His arm went around her waist and he drew her near. For a long moment he gazed down into her eyes. His hand went behind her head and softly, tenderly, he kissed her. His mouth tasted like honey and spiced wine, and she closed her eyes, parting her lips further, silently begging more. He obliged her, deepening the kiss until her head was spinning. He drew back, gently nuzzling her nose with his. "Lay down," he whispered to her. "Wait a little longer. Hold off some years more. I will be with you soon." She knew not what his words meant, but when he pulled away she wanted to hold him back. Whatever this 'waiting' meant, she did not want it. Nonetheless she bowed her head to him and climbed into his bed. She gazed up at the canopy, eyes open. She waited… He did not come…

She awakened to find herself in bed. Her head spun in a dizzying array of emotions. She was so confused, so afraid. She was naked, she realized, and terror seized her. She had gone to bed clothed! She jolted fully awake with a gasp, pale and shivering. What was real and what was a dream, anymore? She could no longer tell the difference, and it frightened her deeply. The box! She leapt from bed. Now she had come of age to open it. She had waited the allotted time the Erl-King gave. She would wait no longer. She ran to the box and threw it open. She gasped, covering her mouth. Inside were the pictures of an elf man and woman. In their arms was a baby. Her! Written beneath was the name she had been given. Like that her questions were answered yet she felt only fear and alarm. She felt lost. She leapt from her bed and raced to a mirror, throwing back her hair. Her eyes widened in shock and fear. Her ears were not the ears of a mortal. They were the ears of an elf! Her sister found her there, numbly looking into the mirror, and horror and shock were in her as well, for now she knew what her sibling was. Would her little sister reject her, the elf maid wondered? …No. She didn't care. Human or elf her sister loved her and would all her life which now they both knew she would lose long before the eldest. The elf maid wept silently that night for everything she had learned and everything she had lost and yet would.

Decades Later

Sixty years came and went. Her sister was elderly now, in her nineties, and a widow, living with her for the last years of her own life. At this time the elf maid had many a suitor clambering for her hand desperately, for there was no one more beautiful in all of Middle Earth that any knew of say for the rumored Lady of the Golden Wood. They had desired her for some time, but none she favored say for a single one. He was a wanderer who came to the settlement only once every month, and curiosity and desire for him had grown in her. The elf king had been a dream, she had long ago determined as much. She had had no more dreams, she had felt no otherworldly calls drawing her into the forest more so than she usually was want to go. Eyes no longer watched and she was alone. The Elf King was a dream. He had to be.

Her sister died not long after. The day she brought her sibling's body to the village to be buried, he was in the bazaar, and she told him of the loss of her family though she offered little detail. Pity was in his eyes for her, all of his being oozing sympathy. She fell to tears and he held her, and a bond was formed between the mortal man and the elf-maid, though he knew not what she was yet. As time passed love grew between them, powerful and passionate, and more and more often he would return until finally he came to her home in the forest directly and there asked her hand in marriage. In glee she accepted him, and shortly after the two were wed. For the first time, since her family's death, happiness consumed her, and for a while she cared no longer about what she was. She cared only about her mortal husband… And yet she would not lie down with him… Always she found an excuse not to. She didn't know why she didn't want to lay with him, but the idea of it felt… wrong… He, though hurt, accepted it. In time she would be ready, he determined. In time she would lie with him and their marriage would finally be consummated.

When he left on his journeys or wanderings—for he was a traveller—she would go on her own way and wander in the woods as she once had before her life came crashing down around her. She would not deny she missed it, the beauty of the woods. Here she could be alone with her thoughts. She would lie with him when he returned, she determined. She loved him. She would not torment him or her like this any longer. He had been so patient, so good. She would lie with him and her body would be his… But she felt afraid to. She felt a sense of disapproval and guilt crushing down all around her. She didn't know what to do anymore. She wanted this. She needed this… And yet whenever she tried to picture herself in bed with her husband, it was the elf king of the dreamscape that she saw, not the mortal man of reality.

The woods were sick, all now could see it. There was no more denying, and Greenwood had become Mirkwood, the forest a dark and dangerous place to live. Yet she refused to be moved from it, and so her husband humored her whim. Stories of an elfin king ran rampant and wild, a being of terror and horror, a malicious enemy and on occasion a powerful friend. Some had him wicked, some had him good, some had him whichever way he was want to be. Elves were blamed for the state of Mirkwood now, above all its king, for the men in the settlements could think of no other reason it could have become so dark. It was said the old elf king had been killed centuries ago. Some claimed by his son's hand. His heir, in turn, was wicked where his father was not, and his heir had sickened the forest in recent times so that it became dark. She knew not what to believe, any longer. He was a dream. She kept reminding herself he was a dream. It was all a dream. She needed to come back to reality.

Her husband was away and had been for some time, seeking work more than travelling this time. They were in financial straits and so he had left to find their fortune, leaving her alone in her home and alone to her thoughts. Always those thoughts went to the elf king. He was a dream, she knew he was. How many times had she told herself as much? Her husband was the mortal man, and she loved him with all her heart. How foolish to think such a fantasy, elf king's and spells and fairy circles, would become her reality. Her husband was here, and he was real. He was due to return tomorrow. That same night she would lie with him and they would be one… And yet as she drifted away into sleep such crushing guilt swept over her…

LotR

She opened her eyes. She was in the palace of the elf king. She caught her breath. The dreams again? Why must they return and torment her so, why?! She felt like screaming and tearing her hair. She didn't like this! She didn't like not knowing what was real and what was the dreamscape. It terrified her so, so much. She shook in fear and sobbed before quickly getting a grip and straightening up, looking around. She rose carefully from the bed on which she lay and began to wander. Wander through the kingdom, through the halls, through a place she had thought was only legend, once. Everything felt real and she swore it could not be mistaken for false… Yet it had to be… It had to be a lie, an illusion, something. This could not be real.

…And then he was there… He stood before her tall and regal. His lips turned up in a gentle smile, eyes softening and letting in the emotion he so tried to hide away when alone and brooding. She felt her heart pounding in her chest and she wanted to fall into his arms and become lost in his embrace. Her lips slowly parted and she reached out for his face, fingertips brushing a cheek. Softly she stroked it, trying to comprehend if this was a dream or not. "You are here…" she whispered.

"I have ever been and ever will be," he answered, gently covering her hand with his. She gasped and threw herself into him, resting her head on his chest and softly weeping, both mourning and celebrating. Gently his fingers stroked her soft hair. She leaned back her head and kissed him tenderly, lovingly. He swayed her softly in his arms, and she knew not whether this was a dream or not. She knew only she did not want to wake up if it was a dream. She hoped it would last forever.

"Thranduil…" she breathed, and she did not know how or when she had learned his name, but it was there on her tongue natural and smooth as if she had known it since the beginning. He whispered her name into her hair, the first one to ever use it, and she was his.

LotR

The world seemed to move in slow motion. She fell back onto his large and soft bed. He leaned over her and kissed her, unclasping his train and casting it to the side. He drew back, removing his tunic. Her fingers played up and down his abdomen gently. Tenderly his hand traced her nude body, feeling every curve and relishing in it. He bent, kissing her neck gently. She shivered. He was undressed now, she noted, but it was only a fleeting thought. Neither were in a rush, and she was glad for it. His hair was like silk, falling through her fingers and over her chest, warm and inviting. Her skin was soft and supple beneath his fingers and he met her eyes. They nuzzled softly. He kissed her once more and drew the blankets up over them, concealing them from sight.

He moved against her rhythmically, certain, unafraid. It was not long before she had become accustomed to the feel of him inside of her and had forgotten the initial discomfort in wake of the bliss and pleasure. She felt his body's every move and his every breath was warm against her skin and lips. She arched up under him giving a soft moan of pleasure, tightening her hold on him and kissing him adoringly, trying something that had him swoon for a moment before recovering and returning the favor swiftly and surely. She could be in his arms for eternity, she decided…

LotR

Eternity wasn't to be. She woke up the next morning and he was gone. She was alone in her home, and tears were on her cheeks. She lay still a long moment before reaching up with the tips of her fingers and wiping them away. She rose silently, listless, and got dressed. A dream. Always only a dream…

Her mortal husband came home, that night, and she told him to stay with her for a time, making him promise he would not go for a while. Perhaps then the dreams would leave her for good. This time they lay together in passion and love, and she was content… Except for a dull aching in the recesses of her heart for the husband of the dreams…

Some Years Later

"Stay with me," he whispered to her. Thranduil. His voice in her dreams, his figure seated next to her on her bedside stroking her hair.

"You are a dream…" she whispered in response as her husband slept by her side.

He bent, kissing her. "I am no dream," he murmured into her hair.

"And yet when I awaken I am here, and you are gone," she answered.

"Forsake your mortal husband, and when next you awake it will be my side you lay at," he answered.

Pain came to her eyes. "I cannot… I love him…"

"Am I nothing to you?" Thranduil questioned.

"You are everything to me," she answered.

"Let me take you from this place," he said to her.

Gently she cupped his cheek, gazing at it. After a moment his illusion was shattered with her touch, and she saw beneath the Glamor the scar adorning his face. Perhaps even down his neck and body, should he ever lose control of the illusion completely. "You will have me in time," she promised. He kissed her hand softly. She shivered and closed her eyes. When she opened them he would be gone. Sure enough, when they opened he was not there…

LotR

She told her husband, on his waking, nothing of what had transpired. She only begged him not to go, begged him to stay and never leave again. She knew that the moment he did, she would be fair game to the elf king's plans, whatever they may be. He tried to learn why, but she would not tell him… Perhaps part of her didn't want to… He stayed longer than usual, for he had long been suspicious of what was happening with her and dreaded that she would be lost to him forever very soon, but soon he had no choice but to leave once more. Leave he did, and she was alone and afraid. Was afraid the proper word to use, she wondered? Part of her doubted it.

She never told him of that dream. Perhaps she should have. Maybe then she wouldn't be here now, her body meshing with the body of the elvenking as they lay in each other's arms. Maybe then she would not know that she would not be let free of the elf king this time. When, she wondered, had she forgotten how truly powerful and truly dangerous he was? Why had she disillusioned herself into believing he was no more than a dream? She should have known better! Now it was too late. Not she was trapped in his domain forever more, never to return.

She became pregnant by him, by the elf king. How many years had she been missing from her home, she wondered? Her husband must be worried sick. He would be searching for her so frantically… She missed him… She loved him… She wanted to return to him and yet she wanted to stay here. She wanted to be the elvenqueen. She desired it. More than she desired it, she desired him. Thranduil Oropherion… But could he not have waited a little longer at least…?

LotR

He watched her silently from the shadows as she stood on the balcony, overlooking the forest. She wanted to go home. She wanted to live out the rest of her husband's days at his side and she wanted to be his wife. He was not ageless. Thranduil was. He knew her heart, he knew her conflict, and it pained him. He approached her from behind quietly and rested his hands on her shoulders, watching out over the forest with her. "Does he search?" she questioned.

"Frantically," he confirmed.

She bowed her head low. "I want to be with him…" she whispered.

"For love or duty?" Thranduil bitterly questioned.

"For love," she answered, opening her eyes once more. Thranduil was silent. "Do not think I do not love you," she said to him. He remained quiet but bowed his head with a sigh.

"Go," he said. "What is fifty years to an elf?"

"I am pregnant," she said.

He tensed up and his shoulders sagged. "I know," he answered. "Did you not want a family with him and he with you?"

"Thranduil…" she began, eyes widening as she caught on to what he was saying.

"Let him have the child, the changeling," Thranduil stated darkly. "Let him have the illusion." The child would not grow at a normal rate but her mortal would need to believe it did. It would be his greatest illusion to date, stronger even than the forest and its bending and turning. He would accomplish it. It would be with difficulty, it would exhaust him, but he could accomplish it. For her sake he would. He had to. "When he is dead, then the babe will know its true father."

"It will be matured by then," she said, arguing. "I will not take it from you!"

He squeezed her hand gently. "You will not… But you must trust me. Trust in my power," he said.

"Even you have your limit," she answered. He smirked wryly. If only she knew how right she was. He was far from the most powerful. "Find Radagast," he whispered into her ear, gently brushing her hair behind her ear. "He is a wizard, and favors are owed to me from him, in a sense. Take this letter. Fly swiftly, my love. Time will bring us together again, this I promise."

Tears slipped down her cheeks. "Thank you," she said. He bowed to her and left. After the visit to Radagast, she returned to the palace. When she woke up, she was in her mortal husband's arms in the forest, and he was weeping over her, clutching her close and saying over and over again how much he loved her. She returned his love just as desperately, reassuring and soothing him.

LotR

Another dream never came, nor did the feeling of anything watching her ever return to her again for as long as her mortal husband lived. When he died, her world ended, and grief overtook her to know that she would never see him again. But they had had the family they had wanted together. He had been a good father to their daughter… her daughter, rather… Her daughter who in illusion aged at a human rate, who in reality aged as an elf and had known her true father from the start, Thranduil coming whenever it was that the mortal was gone and taking his daughter back without his queen's knowledge. Radagast, for his part, had held his end of the bargain up and then some. For all she knew, the elf king was a dream and she did not think of him again. A trick of Thranduil's, she would learn later—along with learning they were now in possession of a rather unique potion that would in future prove handy to her—so that she could enjoy her life with the mortal… And she did…

Their life had been happy for their love for each other, mortal and elf. When he was lost, so was her hope, and she felt so, so alone… She had learned much of elves since discovering what she was, and had learned much of the Sindarin and Silvan languages from the wizard Radagast, the Istari dwelling in Mirkwood forest. Mainly Silvan, for she knew that was what she was, now. A Silvan elf by blood, born in Greenwood. It all ceased to matter to her when her husband died. Her hope was gone, and she lay down, closing her eyes and hoping never to awaken again. Elves could die of grief, she knew now. Die she would… And then the dreams came again…

His voice called to her. Not the voice of her mortal, but the voice of the elf king. He spoke her name… Then she was fleeing from him, and he was pursuing. She didn't know where she was or what this meant, but she was fleeing from him desperately in terror. Was it terror? He pursued her. He stayed on her heels though she could not see him. She fell to the ground, tripping over a root, and looked back at him, shouting a curse in Silvan. He stood above her, cold and unmoved. "What is your name, elf-maid?" he questioned.

"A Mystery," she answered defiantly. He smirked and vanished.

She woke up with a jolt and looked out the window of her bedroom… Except she wasn't in her bedroom. She was in the forest where she had fallen in the dream, and riding upon a large elk sat the Great Elvenking, their daughter at his side grinning excitedly and eagerly at her mother. It had not been a dream. How much more had not been a dream, she wondered? He held out his hand to her. She didn't move to take it. She wanted to be left alone in her grief… But she was drawn to him, and for her daughter's sake she could not fall to grief. She rose, taking his hand. The moment they touched, she remembered it all. She remembered all that was a dream, all that wasn't, and she realized with a jolt that he was her husband now, and she his wife. She burst into laughter through her tears and embraced her husband lovingly, kissing him and then their daughter.

"The waiting is done," he whispered into her ear. "Now you are the Elvenqueen. Now you are my bride."