Part Two

They survived the night without seeing or hearing anything unusual and were marching on the trail yet again as soon as the sun rose. The king and his son rode their horses side by side in the front of the line rather than in the middle so that if they were to come across something then they would be the first to know.

Legolas carefully searched the tree line from afar, waiting to see the dark creature from his dreams standing there and grinning at them, while Thranduil listened closely for any hint of the elleth. The archers' arms were tired from keeping steady aim all night long and their eyes burning with the need to get more rest, but there was nothing for them to do about it. They'd been through harsher things though and were mentally preparing themselves for worse things to come. The servants walked at the very back of the line, weary and ready to shout and draw their swords at a moment's notice.

The sun, which had been relentless and sweltering on the backs' of the elves the day before, was now hidden by clouds that threatened to rain. Songbirds did not sing to them as they normally would, but rather watched them with beady eyes and ruffled their wings in irritation. Bugs skittered in the underbrush around them yet managed to remain unseen as they did so.

It did not take long for them to come to the fork in the road, but had they not been paying attention, they would have completely missed it. The king slowed his horse to a stop as he eyed the mouth of the new trail and motioned for those behind him to halt as well. Legolas stopped his horse next to Thranduil and also gave the trail a weary glance before looking back to the king.

"So this is it then; the road which leads to the creature."

"I am afraid so." Thranduil spoke with perched lips and strict eyes. "Archers at the ready."

"Archers at the ready!" Legolas repeated the order loudly, and all elves behind them readied their bows in perfect unison.

"You must also prepare yourself my son," the king said, "for the things in these woods will not hesitate to kill a prince." Legolas nodded and drew his own bow, his grip strong and ready.

They began walking once more and were disturbed by what they were seeing.

The trees were old and dead, the earth beneath them was frozen, and bloodied carcasses of many different creatures lie in their wake. Not only were there orcs, giant spiders, goblins, lying on the cold ground with their innards spilling from them, but there were also men, hobbits, and dwarfs in many stages of slaughter. Thranduil was disgusted and angered by what he saw, but pushed on with thoughts of Sauron's secrets in his mind.

Then they came upon such a horrible sight that Thranduil could not hide his shock at what was before him. A wall of bodies and limbs stood on either side of the path and came together to form an archway above it. In front of the wall were effigies; sticks stuck in the ground and tied is such a way to make the shape of a person. Pierced on the sticks though were body parts to make them even more realistic: the effigies had the heads of orcs, the arms of men, the legs of hobbits, and right in the center of the sickening statues were the hearts of elves.

The smell was nearly as terrible as the sight.

Thranduil dismounted his steed and, covering his mouth and nose, hesitantly approached one of the effigies. He gaged and fought the wetness in his eyes as he pulled the heart from the center of the dastardly thing.

"What…foul being…would treat one if its own in such a…terrifying manner?"

Letting the cold bloody thing in his hand slip and bounce along the ground, Thranduil walked along the wall and peered into the dead faces he saw there. Legolas had dismounted as well to join his father and was now looking with distasted at the heart that the king had carelessly dropped.

"So much death." Thranduil muttered. "I cannot fathom…cannot think of a single thing that could survive in a place such as this."

Legolas glanced sideways at his father as he stood under the archway, staring up at the arms and legs that dangled down from it.

"You really think that only one person lives here?" Curiously he reached up towards an arm carrying an elven jewel; it must have been one of the nobles, certainly not searching for a fight.

"I am not certain, but I think so. There is a member from every race in this wall, meaning she sees every sort of creature as a threat. I doubt she would make an exception for a partnership of any sort." The king said before looking away from the frozen face of a screaming dwarf and at his son.

Thranduil's eyes widened as he watched Legolas reach for a bracelet on the wrist of a dead elf and hastily swept towards him, yanking his arm away just before he could touch it. He stood close to his son and glared down at him as if he were a naïve child trying to intentionally upset its parent.

"You will touch nothing that you see here, Legolas, for everything before you belongs to the creature."

Legolas pulled his arm from his father's grip, glaring up at him spitefully. He had hoped to find a family crest on that bracelet, so that he could take it back to its rightful owners and deliver the news of a lost relative. Before he could explain this, though, the pair of soldiers at the front of the line stepped forward and knelt in respect.

"Sires, I believe you may want to look behind you." One of them said.

Thranduil and Legolas looked behind them and realized they had come to their desired destination; the creature's home. It sat on top of a small hill with a tiny river at the bottom of it. The path lead across a bridge, straight up to the house, and strangely enough not a single corpse or severed limb could be seen from this point on.

It was only a mere hut made upon the cluster of thin trees, constructed with pillars and roofing in styles that did indeed look elven. The hut seemed to be three stories tall, but each floor must have held maybe one room each, and the trees it was built among were the pillars meant to hold the whole thing up. Legolas stepped forward and spoke loud enough for all to hear.

"They set up camp in what they thought was an abandoned city which once housed elves. There were tall winding towers and noble houses crowded together, all carved out of wood and stone in an identical fashion to the way that Mirkwood's buildings were designed." Legolas's face broke out into a smirk as he quoted the story they'd all been told and shook his head. "Well, at least they got the elven part right."

Thranduil ignored his son's words, having known that there would be many false truths discovered in the tale they'd been told, and turned away from the house to look amongst his men. He kept his chin high as his eyes searched those before him.

"I see the creature's home…but where, one might wonder, is the creature?"

All was silent. Legolas's grip on his bow tightened and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. It suddenly felt like there were hundreds of eyes staring at them all, watching everything they did and waiting for an exact moment to make themselves known.

"Archers," Thranduil said, gaining their immediate attention, "search the area. Touch nothing and only sound if you see the creature, but for the love of Middle Earth, do not fire."

The elves split into groups of two as they walked to the left and right of the king and prince to spread out and move into the trees. Meanwhile the small group of servants crowded by the wall of bodies with their daggers and swords held shaking in their hands. While they had been trained in fighting, none of them were good enough to save themselves or one another; only to offer as bait or distraction for the king's profit. The servants were well aware of this; it was the reason for their being fearful this whole time.

Slowly Thranduil turned in place, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes squinting in suspicion of anything that moved or made a sound, closely scanning every single thing that fell under his gaze. It would be difficult to notice anything hidden in the woods with his soldiers there, he knew, but he trusted their eyes and ears just as much as he trusted his own.

"Father," Legolas said, making the king flinch and sigh in irritation, "the story says that the men had to wait until late into the night before they encountered the creature; perhaps we shall do the same?"

Thranduil hadn't even taken a breath to speak before another voice answered above his.

"Nonsense; it would be rude to keep guests waiting so long for their host."

Legolas spun and had an arrow pointed at the elleth's neck the moment he heard her voice, ready to let it fly straight through her throat at any second. Not moments later were the archers standing beside their prince with their own weapons drawn, surrounding her in a very tight circle. In fact, there were so many archers ready to fire, four tightly knit circles trapped the elleth and gave her no room to breathe. Even the servants stood in the circle.

The mighty elven king Thranduil stood outside the circle with his hands clasped behind his back, standing straight and holding his head high. It was only until things had settled and quieted down that he strode forward calmly, taking his time to show that he was in no hurry or haste over the elleth. His soldiers parted for him and let him into the tight circle so he may stand face to face with the elleth.

Looking her over, Thranduil realized that he had been expecting to find something else when he would first meet with the dark elleth. He thought he would see a creature similar to the one from his dream; a thin, pale being with dead eyes, repulsing hair, tattered clothes, and her teeth and nails sharpened for easy killing.

His thoughts turned to the story he'd been told as he sat upon his throne back in Mirkwood.

"Then there came the shadow of someone hunched over and the wheezing breath of a horrid old hag…the creature tore at the man's flesh with only her sharpened nails and jagged teeth… an evil creature, the shell of what once was an elven woman, belonged to those cursed woods just as much as the woods belonged to her."

This, however, was not so.

Before the king was indeed a thin and pale being, but its eyes were bright and intelligent, her hair fell white and straight just past her breasts, her clothing that of a common elf's despite the cloak made of black fur sitting upon her shoulders. She bore scars over her face, neck, chest, arms, and probably in many other places as well. Her teeth weren't the cleanest, and her nails were a bit long and unmanaged, but she was not nearly as horrible as the story foretold.

None of her features were shrouded in darkness or shadow as the story foretold, and no horrible bugs or beasts made themselves known at her arrival. Things were certainly not what the king and his fighters had thought them to be.

"Of course," the elleth spoke as she looked Thranduil directly in his eye "to refer to you as guests would imply that you had been invited here; which you were not. I suppose, then, that would make you intruders rather than guests."

The king chuckled.

"And just what is it that you do with intruders, might I ask?" Thranduil said with an air of arrogant amusement. He told himself he had nothing to worry about, not when he had his archers with him, and yet he did feel a slight unease.

The elleth raised a scarred eyebrow.

"You did see the mass graveyard on your way to me, did you not?"

The king chuckled.

"I did, and I must admit, it was a rather bold decision to have a mass grave in your front yard."

"It is the backyard, actually; you lot came round on the old roads…must be from Mirkwood. Haven't had anyone from Mirkwood here before. I've had folk from Rivendell and Forlond, maybe Brithombar too, but not from Mirkwood."

Thranduil casually reached out and took her jaw in his hand. Confusion quickly flashed in the elleth's eyes as he inspected her, turning her head this way and that, until he pulled back her hair and gazed at the pointed ear. The corner of the king's mouth turned up in a smug smirk and he let go, stepping back and placing his hands behind him once more.

"Who are you and what do you want?" The elleth asked, shifting from foot to foot and shoving her hands in her pockets. "Not another scouting party come to take my head, are you?"

"No. I am king Thranduil, the ruler to the Halls of Thranduil in Mirkwood. I have come here to simply find the truth in the stories being told about you…tell me, dear elleth, what is your name?"

She eyed the king suspiciously, clearly unsure of his agenda. She did not know these people, nor were they making a good first impression, so why should she bother to give them her name? They would probably just keep referring to her as the creature.

"You will answer your king." Legolas warned as he pressed the end of his arrow into her throat until the skin broke. He was surprised to see no blood drip down from the wound, but mentioned nothing of it.

The elleth's head turned just slightly to gaze at the prince—causing the arrow to cut deeper into her neck, but she took no notice of it—and stared him down.

"I will answer him," she said calmly, "but he is no king of mine. It would do you well to know that you have no rule here in these woods; nobody does."

"You would dare insult us in your position?" Legolas hissed spitefully. "In case you haven't noticed, I've got my arrow pointed at your throat."

The elleth nodded in agreement. "Oh, I've noticed. You've also got arrows pointed at my head, my belly, my chest, back, arms, legs, hands and even my feet. I cannot tell if you mean to kill me or make me into a very large porcupine."

"Do not tempt me."

The elleth tilted her head to the side with a slight smirk; she could tell that this one would be fun to rile up.

"Stick me a thousand times over if you wish, darling prince, for it would do me no harm."

"Enough!" Thranduil demanded before his son could take further offense to her words and stir trouble.

"Tell me your name."

The elleth sighed and turned back to Thranduil.

"In these forests I am known as Baradeth."

"And outside of the woods?" Thranduil challenged.

"I am not named outside the woods, for the people there have forgotten me. Whatever name was given to me then is overwritten by the name that I have now." Sorrow weighed heavily in the elleth's voice, along with shame.

Her name translated in the tongue of men simply meant doomed female. Thranduil had a good idea of who deemed the name to be hers, but wondered why she decided to keep it and not the one she was born with. There were many other unimportant things that the king was wondering, but they would have to wait to be answered.

"Well then Baradeth, let me be the first to say that I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

The king bowed lowly with the sweep of his arm and stood with a pleasant grin. Baradeth, however, was not smiling. In fact she seemed to be rather displeased at the moment.

"I refuse to say the same to you until your soldiers stand back and lay down their arms."

"And why is that?" The elven prince tested. "You said that we couldn't do you any harm."

Thranduil was getting rather irritated with Legolas and starting to regret ever bringing him along. Baradeth was dangerous enough already, she didn't need to be angered and pushed to violence by an arrogant prince.

"And my words were true, but it's just not good etiquette to come to one's home, aim your weapons at them, and ask them questions, now is it? I only figured that a king would want to try making a better first impression, that's all."

Thranduil realized that he was being rather rude; he should have told his men to relax the moment Baradeth began speaking to them in such a civil manner. True, he had been thinking he would come across some evil magical creature with intent to kill them.

He had not brought the archers because he thought they would protect him and his son, but to keep the creature busy if it decided to attack them so that he may run away. It was a cowardly thing to do, something he was sure to regret in his long life, but he knew better to try and kill something that would not die.

Now that Thranduil knew this not to be the case, however, he decided that he was indeed being rather rude and needed to put himself back in line. With a single motion of his hand the soldiers and servants each lowered their weapons and marched as one to stand in line behind the king. Legolas laid his arms down as well and went to stand next to his father, glaring at Baradeth as he did so.

Thranduil had thought he would see the elleth relax once the bows and arrows had been put away, and when he didn't he realized that she must have been relaxed this whole time. It truly would not have bothered her if they did, for whatever reason, decided to stick her like a pig in a slaughter house.

"You are all too right, my dear, and I apologize greatly. Could you ever find it in your heart to forgive me for my foolishness?" Thranduil said almost theatrically. Baradeth looked at the king and his son momentarily, summing them up and trying to decide if she had more reason to like them than she did to hate them.

"I have no heart; in fact, the only organs that I bare are my skin and my brain. But I suppose that your apology is accepted anyways. Now, if you would follow me to my home, I will answer your questions and show your people where they may set up camp."

She turned without another word and began following the path to her home, expecting the others to follow her as she went. Thranduil raised an eyebrow as he watched her go, her cloak of black wolf's fur swaying as she went.

"An odd one she is." Legolas said.

"I'm sure you would be just as odd, having been put through the things she has."

Legolas frowned and looked up at the king in irritation. "You know more about her than you let on."

"Oh, my daft son," Thranduil sighed as he began down the path with his people marching after him, "I know more than I let on about many things."

…

It turns out that Baradeth's front yard was much more welcoming than the back. Granted it was smaller, but it had a view of trees, the Sea of Rhûn, and the Ash Mountains rather than dead orcs or dwarfs. In fact the yard itself, where the soldiers and servants were setting up camp, held no death in sight.

The image beyond the yard though, only visible from the hilltop on which the elven king and prince stood, was magnificent. Trees standing tall and proud baring orange and yellow leaves, the sky a mix of greys and blues, the great sea so clear it might as well have been made from glass, and the mountains dark and sharp before the horizon. It was a view that left even the king's mouth agape.

Baradeth stood on her doorstep with her hands on her hips, the king and prince beside her, a content smile upon her pale, scarred face. The porch they were on was large, made of white wood and had a railing made of intricate weaving designs. A charming little rocking chair sat in one of its corners with a small table beside it, looking ever so welcoming. The elleth looked up at the king.

"Makes you wish you'd taken the long way round, doesn't it?"

"I am starting to see the appeal in doing so." Thranduil muttered. Baradeth chuckled and walked inside her home, calling for Legolas and Thranduil to join her.

The first floor was made of only two rooms—a sitting room and a kitchen—connected by an archway of similar design to the railing from the porch and a set of stairs to the right of the entrance. The ceilings high and the walls unpainted, and there was no flooring other than that of the simple earth.

The sitting room was rather cozy, with a wooden chair in each of the four corners and a rug made from the fur of a bear in the middle of the floor. A bookshelf was placed between two chairs on the right side of the room and a small fireplace sat symmetrical to it. The walls held nothing other than a few candles and some small windows.

The kitchen was smaller and mainly consisted of only counters and cupboards. There may have not been any running water, a stove, or an ice box, but dry ingredients were stacked in neat piles on the counters while herbs, dead rodents, and roots hung from the walls in a nearly decorative fashion. A window, clean and clear, was placed above the counter and shed light upon the room, along with four candles evenly spaced apart.

Everything was built in similar shades of wood and clearly made by the same hand. Sprouting up from the dirt and soaring up into the next floor were the thin white trees place randomly about which served as pillars to the house. Some of the trees were a part of the walls—one made into the staircase, another in the archway—and the rest stood proudly in the center of the rooms. One lone branch stuck out close to the ceiling from one of the tree's trunks and hung above the fireplace; tied to this branch were a few damp shirts and socks left out to dry.

It was all very tidy and organized, and if it weren't for the clothes drying in front of the fires, it would have looked like nobody was even living there.

"Please, sit." Baradeth said as she motioned to the chairs before striding into her kitchen. Neither of her guests moved to take a seat, being more interested in examining her home further. "I'd give you a tour of the rest of the house, but it really isn't much and…well, I'm fairly certain that not all of us could fit in their at once."

"I'm surprised that we could all fit in here." Legolas muttered. Thranduil refrained from giving his son a smack on the back of the head.

"I apologize on my son's behalf for his prolonged lack of manners. I promise, he isn't usually this horrible." Legolas looked to his father slightly confused, not too sure if he really was lacking manners, before bowing his head in his own apology to Baradeth. The elleth only waved it off though and continued to move things in her kitchen around.

"It is not his fault, nor is it anyone's who comes to this place. In fact it is my own fault…more on that later though. I am sorry for the clutter; it's not often that I have friendly visitors looking to speak with me in my home…actually," the elleth paused in the doorway to her kitchen, "you might very well be the first." She gave an inquisitive little hum before turning back and moving some pots and pans around to look for her pitcher of clean water with the intent to make herself, and possibly her guests, some tea.

Legolas looked around him and muttered "Clutter?" in a slightly confused way. "There isn't anything here to be made a clutter of."

Thranduil's hand appeared on Legolas's shoulder as the prince touched a sock hanging in front of the fireplace and shoved him hard so that he fell into one of the chairs there. The prince glared up at the king, hating being manhandled in the same manner as a child, but the king didn't bother to look at him. Instead the king stood in front of a tree with his hands clasped nicely in front of him and a polite smile on his face.

"Trust me when I say, dear Baradeth, that your home challenges your own beauty and charm."

The king's son rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair, looking out the window just above the bookshelf. Thranduil watched her with keen interest as she went about her home. The elleth wouldn't stop moving around, setting a metal kettle over the fire to let some water boil and untying the clothes from the branch to throw them upstairs.

"Oh?" Baradeth laughed heartily. "In that case I truly must apologize further for both the state of my home and for my own appearance, as neither of us looks half as fine as we once did. Would either of you be interested in a cup of tea, or perhaps some milk? I'm certain I've got a bottle of finely fermented wine hidden somewhere in this mess."

"I wouldn't mind a glass of wine." Legolas said glancing up at the two from where he sat.

"And you, king Thranduil?" Baradeth asked as she crouched to look through her cupboards for both the wind and a glass to serve it in.

"No, thank you. We've brought with us all of the food or drink that we may need." Thranduil looked pointedly at his son. Legolas didn't bother with reacting, but eagerly reached out to take the wine once it was offered. It was true that the young prince was acting different from his usual self; otherwise the king would be more accustomed to feeling the need to scolding him. He'd been provoking Baradeth and being obnoxious for quite some time and Thranduil wondered why that was.

"So," the elleth sighed as she stood before the king and prince, "what have you come to question me about?"