Dear Readers,

I hope that you all enjoy the latest installment. This chapter primarily centers around King Thranduil and I thought it was fun to write something centering him for once. Again, I hope that you all like it. Please leave your comments and reviews because they are very much desired. Thank you all for your reviews that you have left so far. They are very encouraging and very fun to read.

Warm regards,

~Anariel RR

Present Day - King's Hall Throne Room

We Wood-Elves possess the capacity to be mysterious to outsiders with our magic and with our wisdom of the wilds, but for as mysterious as we may be, we possess the ability to at times be as nosy as a town full of Hobbits. I know very little of those little people but I have heard tales and have come across one or two in my travels. They say that Hobbits can wag their tongues like no other but I convey to you that we Wood-Elves possess such a gift similar in nature.

For when the brave and defiant Prince Legolas had departed from his father's presence, showing not only insubordination but disrespect, all of the inhabitants whispered amongst each other. By the time that this situation was 'resolved' (if even that is a fitting word for a wretched transpiration as this), we were regaled with the happenings in our absence. According to Ninimmien's younger sister, Tatharien, the following is what occurred with our mighty King Thranduil. Betrayed as our King was, he immediately convened a council to discuss a course of action…a course of action that could not come soon enough…

"My loyal Council, I gather you here this day to discuss a most grave offense against my royal person. Thou art noble lords with such wondrous loyalty and on this day I seek a means of..." The King in his mightiness promulgated to his council, which comprised of 8 personages, he continued. "...disposal. One such person has taken it upon herself to turn my son against me." He was met only by a heavy mist of silence that hung about in the room, everyone else standing but himself. His sharp gaze shifted from councilor to councilor, his face exhibiting only the most calm one can imagine. To be disrespected by one's own son, one would have envisioned him to be quite furious but he wore a veneer of tranquility before others. Not only was he wise but he was duly as smart.

"Ever has this Elven maiden striven to prove her loyalty to me. She has obeyed every order without word or reproach. Yet when she rises as a star into my good graces, she proves treacherous...and traitorous." His words were heavy still, one could discern that his words had such a gravity to them. "I seek the apprehension of this fugitive and the safe return of my own beloved son." He placed his hand upon his heart as if to further instill the thought in the minds of all present. According to Tatharien, the King could have been an actor in the midst of a play for so well was his dramatic portrayal. Silence followed for none could speak.

"Aran vuin..." Ereghir, original Captain of the Guard from the time of King Oropher spoke suddenly, his voice hearty and husky. To exhibit to others that he was obedient to the King and that he was high in favor, he offered only a head bow, unlike the prostrations of common folk amongst us. "Ernil Legolas dispatched a guard unto us and he rode all the night long on his great elk. At the very break of day, he hastened to my place of slumber and conveyed the message of our most beloved Prince." From all accounts, King Thranduil spun around, his sharp eyes replete with a great fiery rage as he regarded his old friend but notwithstanding the fact that he felt in such a way, he comported himself in a most tranquil manner. Such is the mark of higher rank amongst our kind.

"So…what says my royal son?" He appeared at that time to be distant in such a way that all of his councilors feared recourse. They desired not to cross their great King and quaked at his slightest hint of anger. The King's long clever fingers were encircling his oak staff tightly, his white silk tunic melding quite well with the snow-whiteness of his hair. He looked every bit as majestic as a king ought to have looked.

"The guard simply stated thus: 'I am come at the behest of ernil vuin Legolas. He desires that I make it clear to you and his own royal father that he shall return as soon as he is able to the King's Hall. He wishes to relay to you and to the King that he has indeed discovered Tauriel. He intends to reason with her and they shall return as soon as such a conflict is resolved. That is all that he would tell me, hîr nín.' Such were the words of the young sentinel as he came to visit me at the dawning of a new day." Lord Ereghir held his hands before him in a demure manner, his dark silk robes shimmering as water as he paced back and forth. He was often a man of little patience and the King had a solid ally in him.

"And is that all?" The King inquired, a single eyebrow elevated as he studied his subject rather incredulously. "Ereghir, mellon nín. Do you care to explain to me why the sentinel came to visit you instead of his King?" His voice was calm but his face exhibited very little serenity as it usually did.

"It was a foresight on his part, Aran vuin. He desired not to waken you from your slumber thus he hastened to my chambers instead." The dark-haired lord declared, making a gesture of his hands as he spoke reverentially. The King's anger appeared to be abate from such a truth as soon as it was uttered but, of course, snakes will have their words in the matter.

"My most beloved King, may I approach?" Lord Bregoliâr bowed deeper than the proud Ereghir but came up just as quickly, his eyes boldly studying the King's eyes. The King in truth was taken by surprise when he regarded Bregoliâr but simply nodded.

"You may." Our beloved King returned, offering a simple nod.

"I request that there is justice for poor, poor Caranor. He was ever friend to us all, a spritely sentinel who charmed us all so much with his deep tenor. Now? His body rests upon a mortuary slab…one of the very few amongst us to meet death in over a hundred years. I seek justice for our fallen friend and comrade." He sounded mournful, deeply saddened as he offered his plight up to our just King. King Thranduil's face went through a flurry of emotions but eventually settled on one of peace, "What say you then, Bregoliâr? What action should we taken in such a situation? Our Prince is in the presence of that murderess. What do you advise, old friend?"

"Your Most Majestic Grace, I am ever your friend. I live my life solely to serve you and this realm in all ways that I can. Far be it from me to guide you wrong, my Lord. I seek instead to gently offer a suggestion. I am but a lowly man in thy eyes…but I know something of this Tauriel. She is as wicked as the Orc filth that trod about these lands. She must be apprehended for the crimes that she has committed. My advice, my good Lord, is to send out a host of some of your best warriors. Warriors who have since retired from the ways of battle. Should you wish for them to fight, they would be more than happy to oblige. I advise you to send them out to find our most Beloved Prince. Afore he can be poisoned by the wicked tongue of that evil sorceress, you must find him." Was his impassioned speech and when he was finished, just for dramatic flair, he offered a twirl of a bow. The councilors either regarded him with scorn or were delighted by his performance, but King Thranduil's face was unreadable. Later we would learn that our great King was not so quick to condemn me. Yes, he desired the truth…but he saw that his good friend has an agenda. Nonetheless, sending out a posse of guards to discover us served him better than doing nothing at all. Not to mention that it mollified his wrath.

"Very well, old friend." King Thranduil beamed, his smile mysterious even in the best description but unbeknownst to that snake, he had something up his sleeve. "I will be glad to follow your advice. Lord Ereghir, send our twenty of your best men. Find Prince Legolas at all costs."

Present Day – Four Days from the King's Hall

Dearest Book,

I can write but little this day. It is difficult to scribble down the quick succession of the silly little nothings that makes up my life. At times I feel so full of vigor, hasty to record the day's happenings. However, today? I am reluctant to even grasp the quill in my hand. We travel now in a company of almost 20 men – literally less than half of the Guardians of the Forest. It is enjoyable to have Prince Legolas here as well as Laerorn, who has done nothing but make jokes for six hours straight. Laerorn always jokes that he was born with the gift of sarcasm and humor. Whenever I do not laugh at his jokes, Ninimmien accuses me of being wretched and of having "absolutely no sense of humor whatsoever!"

Before I speak of other things, I will explain what occurred at Emyn-nu-Fuin. It was there that we engaged in battle with goblins of all shapes and sizes. They were short and tall, thin and fat, dark-skinned and light-skinned, snub-nosed and point-noised, and worst of all, their blood got all over us. It was frustrating. What we did was draw them out of the mountains and into the forest. For the most part, they are quite stupid creatures and as fish to a hook they came. We kept luring and luring until we could find such a creature that would participate with us. Whenever we tried to wheedle information out of them, they fought terribly. There was one goblin Urzokk, who flatly refused to help us at first. Knowing full-well that Laerorn was rather good at torturing, let me just say that he "convinced" him to behave. Mind you, we are gentle folk. When one is a prisoner in Mirkwood, we regard him or her fairly, feed him or her well, and even allow the individual time to go climb trees. We have oftentimes been accused of being too lenient to our captives. This Urzokk was frustrating because all he would do is curse at us in his Black Speech. Once he was "convinced", Urzokk told Laerorn the following, "Yes…yes. I saw an Elf. Chestnut hair, angular face, and he was in the company of a band of Orcs. They headed off to the South…speaking of wanting to…corrupt him." The goblin seemed confused by the term then shrugged its shoulders. Laerorn had asserted, "You had better not be lying or I will slit your throat." When Laerorn held the blade up to its neck, the goblin squawked like a spring bird ready for mating.

"The south, where?" Prince Legolas, who had been watching the situation, piped up suddenly. Laerorn made a couple more threats and actually nicked a little of its skin. Ninimmien cringed and later on accused her betrothed of being wicked and cruel.

"Amon Lanc…Amon Lanc." It hissed and squeaked desperately, trying to escape the blade. The goblin had to have been sandy-skinned with an obnoxiously large head and a strangely small body, its nose perfectly pointed. Just looking at it simply annoyed me. Legolas and I exchanged looks. I blinked slowly. What we had remembered of Amon Lanc was that it was the original city that our beloved King had built a long time ago and that we had to leave it because of some wicked sorcerer. I wasn't exactly familiar with the story but I knew it was something like that. Thinking of adventuring to the South of Mirkwood sent a chill down my spine. When we had received all of the information that we could from the goblin, Laerorn did not think twice before he impaled it several times with his sword. I felt sick to my stomach watching its oil-dark blood splattering from its body and collecting beneath it.

Before we had departed from Emyn-nu-Fuin, there was an issue of elks. There were only 18 elks for the 18 males that rode them. However, there was Ninimmien and myself. Ninimmien was initially to ride with Laerorn which left me to have to ride with someone else. Not exactly looking forward to the prospect, I uttered not so much as a syllable.

"Tauriel…" Legolas had spoken my name in his usual deep tone, his gaze flickering over to me as he spoke. "You may take my elk. And I will walk, if it please you." It was a friendly gesture but the thought filled me with astonishment. He is our Prince…I would never suffer to see him walking. Instead, one guard joined another on the great elk and it was decided at the last minute that I would ride with Ninimmien. Legolas and Laerorn would ride alone. I thanked the bright Stars as I held the reins tightly in my hand. Now we are at camp before we journey onwards. I have very little time to write and, when I do, Legolas does that thing that he does. He asks, "What do you write in that book of yours?" I simply smile my nervous smile then offer, "Nothing of consequence." That being said, I had better cease my writing as he regards me now in a studious manner. I will write when I can. I do not savor the idea of adventuring south and it frightens me to no end.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translations:

Amon Lanc – Another epithet for Dol Guldur

Aran – King

Emyn-nu-Fuin – Mountains of Mirkwood

Ernil – Prince

Hîr – Lord

Mellon – Friend

Nín – My/Mine

Vuin – Beloved