THE FORGOTTEN

I Rui

The Hunt

Author's note: The chapter in which – Everyone goes hunting and Lothril collapses from exhaustion. WARNING: This chapter is in fact a hunting scene and though I'm not going into gory, gratuitous detail, I'm still going to be describing the hunting and harvesting of a wild boar. If this sort of thing bothers you, I am sorry to say this chapter is important so you can't skip it but I'll try to fold the actual taking of the boar into one easily skippable paragraph.…I did a somewhat ridiculous amount of research into boar hunting for this chapter. As far as I can tell, non-gun boar hunting is a pretty aggressive and hands on form of hunting. Especially as more than one culture in more than one time and place used it as a means of getting rid of an aggressive pest and a bit of martial prowess thing. And trust me, the Europeans aren't the only ones who treated it like a test of manhood and strength kind of thing. This particular hunt I'm styling as a more practical thing rather than a proof of valor/strength thing, so I tailored things accordingly. However, if anyone reading this has gone boar/feral pig hunting, I would LOVE to know if this reads at least quasi realistically. Because I certainly tried!

The next day was bright and clear and all those who were going on the hunt were buzzing with excitement including the dogs who were going about sniffing every inch of ground they trod and sniffing the air. The general good mood was enhanced by the absence of Lady Gormes who had apparently decided she would rather drive home in the rain rather than spend the day next to a wet horse tent. She was, of course, certain to write a brief but eloquent letter of apology to the king saying she regretfully had to go home right away and could not stay longer. After a good chuckle from the king, the prince, and his betrothed, the letter was promptly thrown in the stove and forgotten.

The plan for the day was that Lothril would ride out and when the dogs gave bay, hang back and watch from a safe distance. She armed herself with her customary long knives, a dagger, and her bow, just to be safe, but no sword or spear. All the hunters were carrying a combination of spears, daggers, swords, and heavy bows; many carrying all four. Their numbers also swelled as several ellyn from the nearest villages had shown up yesterday and asked if they could join. They knew the woods very well in these parts but there were not enough of them with horses, trained hounds, and experience to form a boar hunt themselves. They were quickly granted permission and showed up very early that morning with spears in hand and daggers in their belts.

They went out, some on horseback and some on foot, the dogs sniffing in every direction, going faster when they picked up a trail. The hounds of Iorthonor kept veering off from the group of other dogs. As they were a large party, they decided it would be safe enough for the group to split and so roughly half followed the king and the other half followed Iorthonor. Lothril decided to keep with Thranduil's party and followed them as they pressed on. The rest of the dogs seemed to have some trail they were following, but it wasn't horribly strong yet. Mindonith, who was riding towards the back with Lothril, told her that it could be this was a place the boars frequented without one necessarily being there.

They let the dogs go a ways ahead of them and waited until it seemed there was something more sure before they moved in. The dogs were darting back and forth, following one trail and then another until suddenly one of them gave bay and immediately the larger dogs darted forward and into the thick underbrush. Something large rustled in the undergrowth ahead. The air burst into barks, growls, grunts, and squeals. Suddenly a huge boar burst out of the brush, half dragging one of the dogs with him and the rest hard on its heels trying to grab it by the neck and pin it down. It did not take long for the hounds to help fence it in before the boar dogs were able to take hold and keep it at bay as the hunters rode up.

Lothril watched as the others dismounted and circled the boar, weapons drawn. Even from behind them largely, as she was, she could see the tension and alertness in each hunter as they carefully approached, weapons down and pointed at the boar. The signal was given and the dogs fell back into a growling, bristling circle as the boar charged one of the nearest hunters, she couldn't see who exactly. Suddenly the air was rent by squeals as it impaled itself on a spear. Even from horseback it was hard to see exactly what happened as the hunters all seemed to surge forward at once, but there was a flurry of activity and a final squeal and then a brief moment of silence before whoever owned the dogs began showering them with praises.

Congratulations broke out and Lothril hung back for a minute until she was sure it was very dead before she dismounted her horse and began heading towards the others to give her congratulations. She had stopped a ways off because she didn't want to get in the way, so there was a short walk between her and them. She was about halfway from where she left her horse and the group when the sound of growling dogs, grunting, and shouting hunters rent the air, but the sound was being thrown around weirdly. In the moment it took everyone to look around they went from being merry to panicked and Thranduil cried, "Lothril!"

She swiveled her head around to find the danger as Legolas launched himself in her direction, loosing arrows rapidly from a heavy bow as he ran, Thranduil hard on his heels with a short hunting sword** drawn. Lothril drew her knives and tried to run away from the charging boar without turning her back to it, but hoping to dodge it, but with little success for now she was its target and it followed her. It was coming up on her quickly, eyes flashing, large tusks gleaming in the morning light as it grunted and growled angrily as it charged at her, Iorthonor's hounds and his half of the party charging up behind. She got a short distance ahead and was singing and bracing to fight it as she may until help arrived, but it surprised her and leapt at her only for it to be intercepted mid-air by Legolas who barreled into it shoulder first and knocked it just enough off course that she could dodge. They fell in a heap and rolled together with a cry and squeal both splitting the air. Thranduil caught up with them and as soon as they landed the boar whipped its head around and caught Thranduil in the leg as he drove his sword into it. Lothril came up in almost the same moment and brought her long knife down clean through its spine before dropping her knife and assessing the king and the prince.

"See to Legolas!" Thranduil commanded as he sat holding leg wound tight. "See to him first!"

She didn't argue, she turned to him while telling Thranduil, "Hold tight your wound and bind it if you can." She knelt beside Legolas and he was a pale, bloody mess. She shoved her panic down deep and forced herself to breathe very calmly as she reminded herself some of this blood could be from the boar.

"I am sorry, my love. I shall not make our wedding," he whispered quietly, unable to speak any louder. He was ghastly pale.

"Shut up, Legolas!" she snapped as she ripped his shirts open to see how his chest wound looked.

"I can feel it, Lothril. My spirit is leaving my body," he mumbled.

"Like hell it is! Now shut up!"

"What do you need?!" Thranduil demanded.

By now the entire hunting party was gathering around them to see what had happened and how they could help.

"My pack from the horse, wood, water, a pot, a wagon, and clean cloths. Oh, and someone to bind your wounds until I get him stable," she said, not looking up and carefully searching his very large chest wound.

Thranduil began barking orders and elves began scattering in every direction to fetch things. Mindonith came flying over to them with Lothril's pack in her hand, the cut strap flying like a kite tail in her wake.

"I need the wooden box," she said and Mindonith had it out, open, and beside her in a second. Lothril began to sing as she began pulling out what she needed. Wood appeared and she pointed for it to be set beside her and she lit it immediately and began trying to stop his bleeding. They were not terribly far from camp and Iorthonor, who was one of the best riders, had set off like lightening, dogs in tow, and soon there was a dog returning with a bundle of cloths tied to him and another soon arriving saddled with flagons of water and a moment later his largest hound running up with a cooking pot and a trivet inside it tied to him, panting as he sat and let the nearest elf relieve him of his burden.

Mindonith and Belneth were assisting her, quickly untying the cloths, water, and pot and setting the pot on the fire and dumping in water and ripping the cloth into strips and seeing to it the king got his wounds bound and the rest was ready for when Lothril needed it.

Lothril didn't want to wait for water to boil and decided to risk it and made the fire burn hotter. As soon as it seemed warm she threw in aethelas to clean it and began washing his wounds as soon as it began to steam and then slathering an aethelas balm and then one or two others into the wound.

The boar had gored him in the chest when they fell, tearing a gash as they separated. When Legolas said he was dying, Lothril was very, very sure he was, but she was almost certain he would make it if she could hold on long enough. If she could hold out long enough. As she worked she sang and as soon as Thranduil was convinced he was bandaged enough, he dragged himself over to his son and watched Lothril work.

Legolas looked deathly pale and his eyes kept fluttering open and shut and searched out Lothril's face each time they opened. When he finally caught sight of his father, the look he gave made Thranduil nearly choke. He had seen that look before… so many times before… But he couldn't… Not his son too. Not like this! No! NO!

Lothril was singing and working as steadily as she could, violently pushing down her feelings that were threatening to choke her. Work now, sob later. This was no time to lose it! She cleaned, treated, and dressed his chest before turning her attention to the gash on his head that Mindonith had cleaned and been keeping pressure on for a while now. Like a typical head wound, it bled like crazy but wasn't that bad, so Lothril simply sang, slathered a balm on it, and closed it before laying a hand over his heart and another on his head and singing for a little while more, seeing if anything else was hurt internally. No, no… that was all of it, mercifully.

A wagon came up with a thick stack of blankets laid in the bottom, Lothril ordered Legolas be loaded into it before turning her attention to Thranduil.

"No, you must go with him, I will follow," Thranduil said as she started unwinding the cloth on his leg.

"Don't be ridiculous, you are riding back with him in a minute as soon as I see to your wound. I am sorry I cannot sing you whole right now. I am weary, but I can clean and dress you properly before we return to camp and maybe we can find another healer to help treat you in the town or something," Lothril said as she bathed his wound and started slathering it in her healing balms.

Thranduil finally turned his attention to her and she didn't look merely weary, she looked ready to collapse. "Lothril, do not spend yourself on my account, I will be fine."

"Let me finish here and then we can all go back together," she said as she began stitching his leg shut. "Mindonith – can you stitch?"

"I have stitched closed wounds before," she answered.

"Finish him, please, and someone put me in the wagon," she said before collapsing next to Thranduil in the leaves looking pale herself with deep, dark circles under her eyes.

Mindonith yelled for aid and two elves immediately came to her and picked her up and put her in the wagon beside Legolas as Mindonith finished stitching Thranduil closed. He was helped into the wagon and the three of them were taken back to camp. The moment they reached camp, Thranduil worked his way to the edge of the wagon, ignoring the pain in his leg and began barking orders.

"I want the fire in my tent stoked and Legolas' and Lothril's beds brought in there. Find the nearest healers and bring them here immediately! I want food and drink brought in now and extra blankets. Someone make inquiries to find the nearest village or town where we can stay until the prince is well enough to travel and I need servants to move the prince and the Lady Lothril."

As he spoke, servants started darting around to fulfill his orders. The servants attending Legolas and Lothril immediately springing to action to move the beds and find extra blankets, the servants attending him setting to rearrange his tent and stoke the fire in the camp stove. The servant that Farion brought with him was from these parts and he immediately came forward.

"My king, the nearest towns and villages are very small and the homes humble. The two nearest places you could stay for any length of time in any comfort would be my master Farion's home or the home of Lord Himben."

"Then when Farion returns send him to my tent," Thranduil said.

The tent was ready and servants appeared and first took Legolas into the tent and then took Lothril before helping the king down and into the tent. The tent was warming nicely as Legolas and Lothril both were being carefully changed out of their blood and mud splattered clothing into clean things and a servant began helping him out of his things as well. As soon as he was changed, he hobbled over to Legolas' bed, dragging a chair with him and sat down beside him. He took his son's hand and held it between his and closed his eyes. He was alive. His pulse was steady, if a little weak, but most importantly, his fëa felt firmly attached to his hröa. Thank Elbereth! He was still pale, but he no longer looked like he was on the doorstep of Mandos.

Thranduil got up and turned his attention to Lothril, pulling his chair with him. He took her hand between his. She felt exhausted and spent. She still had dark bruise like circles under her eyes and looked pale, but there was at least a little color in her lips. She had brought his son back from the brink of death and it seemed at the expense of herself. He already loved her like a daughter… and now he owed the life of his son to her. How does one repay this? He was already giving her his son…

She stirred and looked slightly disoriented as she slurred, "How is he? How is he?"

"He is alive. His pulse is steady, if weak, but he is alive and I do not think his fëa is going anywhere," Thranduil said.

"Then it was worth it," she said, settling into the bed a little. "I am starving and thirsty."

"Can you sit up on your own?" he asked.

"I think so," she said as she started trying to sit up and looking pathetically feeble.

"Let me help," Thranduil said gently as he ignored the shooting pain in his leg as he stood on it and waving off the servant that was moving to help. He helped her sit up a little, propping up some pillows behind her.

"Thanks."

Servants returned with food ranging from a thick and hearty broth to roast meat and bread, water, and wine and brought the table over beside her bed. Thranduil insisted on helping her himself but told them to stay near and keep an eye on Legolas.

Lothril wanted to protest and insist she could feed herself, but when she tried to raise her hand she barely twitched. She realized she wasn't even properly holding herself up, she was just propped up at a good angle like a ragdoll on a bed.

"Would you like to start with broth or bread?" Thranduil asked.

"Broth," Lothril answered. She wasn't thrilled with the fact that she had to be spoon fed by her soon father-by-marriage, but she was so hungry, thirsty, and weak that she couldn't even be bothered to be bothered for more than a minute. In fact, she was grateful. After a bit of broth she asked for some wine and then water and after some more broth she felt sufficiently revived enough to reach for her cup of water on her own.

Once Thranduil saw that improvement he asked, "How do you feel, pen mell (dear one)?"

"Tired," she answered. "Bone tired. But I can at least move a little."

"You have expended a good deal of your strength," he said as he gave her another spoonful of broth. "What else do you need?"

She swallowed. "Food, drink, and rest is all," she answered. "As soon as I can stand I will check on Legolas again. I am nervous, Thranduil. Elrond taught me well, but there is a good deal of difference between practice and then doing something in the field. I will feel better if we can find an experienced healer to look at him." She did everything she knew to do and then some, but there was no way she was going to rest easy until he either woke up or someone else saw him.

"I have sent for healers to come here swiftly," Thranduil said. "And I want them to see to you also."

"Ah, a bit of aethelas is the only thing they could add to food and drink and rest," she said. "You though, could use a proper looking at too."

"I have had a hundred flesh wounds like this," Thranduil said dismissively. "You cleaned it out well, I just need to be careful until the stitches come out."

Just then Farion was brought into the tent. He bowed and said, "You sent for me, my king?"

"The prince cannot spend too long in a tent with winter approaching and your servant informed me your house or Lord Himben's are the only places close enough to accommodate our stay for any length of time," Thranduil said before giving Lothril a bite of bread.

"It is true, your highness, and you and yours are most welcome in my home for as long as you need to stay. I will send word ahead to have rooms made ready for you as soon as tonight, if the prince can be moved that soon," Farion replied.

"I am not sure yet if he can be moved that far tonight. Healers have been sent for and as soon as they have seen to him, we will make our plans to depart from here," Thranduil said.

Before Farion could reply a servant came in and announced that healers had arrived from the nearest village. A pair of ellith came in each carrying a large bag and with a servant or apprentice in tow also carrying one and they all bowed low to the king.

Thranduil quickly explained what happened to the prince and they immediately set to work examining him. Lothril watched with a good deal of interest while absentmindedly taking a proffered bite of bread. She was very keen to see how other healers worked. They carefully removed his bandages and examined the wound.

"Whoever tended the prince did an excellent job. The wound was cleaned and treated as well as we could have done so in our own house," the one said, who seemed to be the head healer.

"Indeed, my king, if you had not said he was gored, I would have deemed it but a flesh wound. He is healing very quickly," said the other.

"When could he be moved safely?" Thranduil asked.

"If you have a means of moving him in some warmth and comfort, you could do so now. He is only resting to let his body heal, but he is in no danger and I would not be surprised if he is awake by this evening," answered the head healer. "We were told to check on the lady and yourself also – may we?" she asked, sounding unsure if she was just allowed to ask to see his wound.

"I am sure you were told as much, but I have been tended adequately," Thranduil answered as he gave Lothril another bite while she shot him a dirty look. "But Lady Lothril ought to be seen to," he added which won him a dirtier look that he merely returned with a smirk.

He moved himself aside and the head healer took her hand and laid a hand on her forehead and sang for a little while before turning to the king and saying, "She is very weak, but she will recover with food and rest. If it were summer, I would suggest laying her out in the fresh air all day, but it is too cold and I fear her ability to endure these temperatures is low. She needs to be kept warm and comfortable so her body can rest easily and she needs peace and calm so her spirit can rest. Both are weak, but she will mend sooner if she is warm and relaxed."

"I will see to it. Thank you for coming here and so speedily. You may go now," Thranduil replied and with that they bowed and left.

As soon as they were gone Farion said, "I will ride ahead and I will expect you at any time."

"Thank you, Farion," Thranduil said and turned to one of the servants and told them to see to it the healers were paid a generous amount for their trouble and aid and then he turned his attention back to Lothril. "Are you feeling up for travel?"

"I can bump along in the back of a wagon, if that is what you are asking. I don't think-" she suddenly burst into tears. She had enough energy now that she could cry and deal with the fact that she had all but grabbed Legolas' fëa and jammed it back into his body.

Thranduil hurriedly set down the bowl and sat down beside her on the bed and held her and he cried himself. After a while they were all cried out and Thranduil ordered servants to make ready for them to remove themselves to Farion's estate. They hurried to it and both Thranduil and Lothril looked at Legolas. He still hadn't stirred.

"How is he looking?" she asked, her voice still sounding a little thick.

"Thranduil stood and carefully hopped over to look at him. "He is pale still, but there is color again in his lips and he looks like he is simply asleep, not passed out and clinging to life."

She sighed and smiled and sunk back a little into her pillows. "Then it was worth it."

"What was worth it?" Thranduil asked, pulling his attention back to the elleth.

"I reckon Elrond might have been able to do the same without half killing himself because he is more skilled. Me though, I had to do it the hard way, I think. I had to pour out the better part of my strength into him as I tended him to sort of force him to heal quickly. If I was a more skilled surgeon, I might not have had to do it that way. I could have stitched and repaired him but I am no surgeon, so I gave him my strength and forced him to do days and weeks of healing in minutes. It's why I am so weak and tired," she said. "But in two or three days I should be perfectly fine."

"Lothril-" Thranduil said, unsure if he wanted to yell at her for half killing herself, kiss her for saving his son, or cry at the realization he could have lost them both.

The servants returned before he could figure out what else to say and said, "The wagon is just outside the tent and we are ready to help the prince and the lady into it."

"Start with the prince," Thranduil said.

They were in the forest, and a wilder part of it, so the first mile or so of riding was very rough, but after that they met the fringes of civilization and actual road and the ride in the back of the wagon improved substantially. Legolas was still unconscious, but they had laid him on two thin mattresses and pile of blankets so he was jostled least. Lothril wasn't jostled too badly on her makeshift bed, but Thranduil was being bumped around a bit until Lothril, exhausted but stubborn, insisted it was stupid he keep sitting at the foot of the wagon getting bumped.

"Oh, just lay down next to one of us already! Or shove me over a little and steal one of my pillows and sit against the side here," Lothril said, sounding like an exasperated naneth (mother)."But you are making me wince every time you bump around."

"No Lothril, I will be fine," he insisted for a third time.

"Good grief, Thranduil! You are hurt, worse than I am, by the way. I am merely exhausted. All I need to do is keep still for a day or two and then I shall be right as rain. You have a nasty gash in your leg and are lucky it missed your femoral artery, by the way. By the time I finished with Legolas I was far too tired to expend the energy needed to repair that," Lothril said. "So just shove me over so I do not have to try moving myself and lay down. I can even lie on my side against his mattress if you need the space. Like I said, I am just exhausted. You are wounded."

He sighed. "Oh, very well," he said. It was a trick, but he managed to get her scooched over towards Legolas' mattress and she managed to get onto her side and get herself fairly comfortably propped up on her side. Thranduil insisted though she keep the pillow. He carefully stretched himself out. It did feel a good bit better to be bumped around like this than it did sitting on the hard wood.

"See? This is not so bad, is it? Kinda cozy," she teased.

He stared up at the naked tree branches and blue sky and laughed. "You are a bird in this world*."

"I will take it as a compliment."

He only chuckled in response.

"Do you know how far it is from camp to Farion's place?"

"Five miles or so. So we have a ways," he answered.

She didn't answer, just gave a very small nod and began studying his profile as it very nearly the only thing she could see laying on her side like that. He really was quite handsome, beautiful even, but in a different way from Legolas. His features were sharper and more defined than Legolas'. They certainly allowed him to look more intimidating and almost mask like, but then when he smiled or laughed he could look positively silly in the sort of way that made you laugh with happiness to see someone enjoying themselves so much. Except in the most extreme of circumstances, Legolas bore his personality on his face and would simply bring to the fore whatever it was he was thinking or feeling. She was starting to read Thranduil a little, but it was subtle work. If you wanted to get anywhere, you had to study his eyes, which were almost unnerving with how light blue they were. His face was nearly mask like right now and she tried to guess what he was thinking but didn't get very far, so she went with the direct approach.

"You look thoughtful," she said.

He stirred and a little smile teased the corner of his mouth. "I was just thinking about the last time I stared up at a rhîw sky like this. It was the one before Lauríel was injured and decided to sail. We would always steal some time away each season and I have not had much cause to lay beneath the bare branches since."

"The last time I laid out under bare branches like this was with the Fellowship traveling through the Misty Mountains. Except it was full on winter and freezing cold," she commented. "And to be honest, this is much more comfortable."

Thranduil gave a quiet chuckle. "I am certain it is, even with all the bumps. However, as we get towards the larger towns the ride will improve."

They chatted on and off until they arrived at Farion's house.

"Help me sit up, Thranduil," Lothril said. "I really want to see what his house looks like."

He indulged her and sat up and then helped her sit. She could hold herself a little once she got up, but getting up was more than she could handle at the minute.

"What do you think?" he asked, supporting her sitting frame with one of his strong arms.

In size it reminded her of some of the big expensive, fancy houses that she had seen back in Michigan. Not the crazy huge mansions the pro football players lived in and had bowling alleys in the basement, but the ones that were definitely big and expensive and far more so than the overpriced neighborhoods going in with postage stamp sized lots near her parents' house. For design though, it was quite elven as it seemed tucked in around the trees, giving it an unusual look that Lothril was starting to realize was more of the Silvan elf aesthetic. It was more wood and water and a little heavier than in Lothlórien.

"It is bigger than I thought it might be," Lothril answered.

"He has done very well for himself. He has his Uncle Himben's head for numbers and so does very well with his business ventures, but inherited his mother's personality making him smart and congenial. I have visited him before and we ought to have a very comfortable and pleasant stay," Thranduil said.

Farion, who had ridden ahead himself, came out of his house, still dressed in his hunting garb, with several servants in tow carrying a stretcher. For sake of logistics, Thranduil got out first and was helped inside then they brought in Lothril and took her directly upstairs to a guest room then they returned for Legolas and brought him up to another guest room, and as soon as Legolas came in the front door, Thranduil insisted on following him up the stairs and seeing to his son, Farion helping the king himself.

"I shall do what I can to keep your visit here secret," Farion said. "I have already instructed the servants to make no mention of you being here."

"Thank you," Thranduil said.

Farion gave a wry smile, "I supposed you would not care much to have my Aunt Gormes flying down to help make sure you are properly looked after."

"Not in the slightest," Thranduil answered. "Speaking of looking after, please see that Lady Lothril is properly taken care of. She is not wounded, but her healing Legolas has left her utterly spent and she needs food and rest and someone to look after her until her strength is back."

"I will have some attending her constantly," Farion said. "And what of you, my king? You are wounded also."

"I am fine. The only thing I am in want of is a staff to lean upon until my leg heals further," he answered.

"Then a staff you shall have as soon as one can be found or made," Farion said. "In fact…" he reached over to a bell cord and pulled it and a servant appeared presently. "The king needs a tall staff to lean upon while his leg heals. Go to that large limb that fell in the storm yesterday and see if there is a branch of it that would be a suitable height for his majesty."

"If there is," Thranduil hastily interjected, "Bring it to me, bark and all and some knives for whittling so I may have something to do while I wait for my son to awaken."

"It shall be done," The servant said and hurried off.

Farion helped the king into an arm chair by the fire and angled it so the king could see his son in bed and then left to go give orders for the care of Lothril.

Lothril meanwhile was exhausted and slept the entire rest of the day, only waking briefly for dinner which she managed to eat by herself before nearly passing out again until late morning.

Author's note: **Hunting sword – so, boar hunting was a thing in basically any culture where there are wild boars and feral pigs, and in medieval Europe, we began seeing specialized weaponry for boar hunting, including a sword. When hunting aggressive and clever creatures that can get real Hulk-out ragey (even without you trying to hunt them, hence the elves out hunting them), it behooves you to have some serious weaponry that can stop roughly 200lbs/90 kilos of muscle and rage quickly. Besides modified spears, it also lead to hunting swords that had a very specific design of a tip that was shaped more like an arrow head and had a pin going through it to keep the boar from running up the blade and inflict a more grievous wound so it would, well… bleed out faster. With large, hulking animals like that, that is usually the quickest end you can hope for without getting yourself killed… especially if you're living in a world where guns don't exist.

*You are a bird in this world: This is a quote from the Andy Griffith Show. In one episode, Sherriff Andy (Andy Griffith) said this to Deputy Barney (Don Knotts) and the world has been trying to figure out what the heck it means ever since. It is not an idiomatic expression or colloquialism to anywhere so far as anyone can discern, and there's speculation that it was either a complete misspeak of 'you are a rare bird' that Andy whiffed but just liked how it sounded and decided to keep it in, or it was something he just improved because he thought the audible sound of it (paired with his inflection) would strike the right comedic notes for the scene. Which, it did. So, as a collector of idioms and colloquialisms old and rare, I was trying to think of one that sound appropriately elven and was along the lines of, "You're a pip!" without using that because it just didn't feel like it fit Thranduil. However, the bird line from the Andy Griffith Show came to mind and somehow… that just seemed perfectly elven and fit. This isn't even really the same context as the original use in the show, but given the incredibly ambiguity of it, well… it's open to good deal of interpretation. So here we are! And that was your useless trivia for the week!