Princess of Arnor - The King's Regent (Under Edit)

Chapter Six: Under the Trees

"This day, our foes intend to take the war to our very door! But we shall push them back and defeat them! Those creatures shall not invade my realm again. They will have to crush our bodies into the ground first!" - Thranduil

15th March/ Gwaeron 3019, Mirkwood

From under his scarf, Thranduil's bright blue eyes observed the construction of the defences. All the time the smoke from the south grew evermore dense in the dull light of the morning. It was almost like twilight, just before the first stars appeared. His favourite time of day. However, the noxious vapors coming from Mirkwood's blackened trees filled his nostrils instead of the sweet-smelling scents of nocturnal flowers, creating this false twilight. The scarf did nothing to relieve the vile stench.

Calenamath and Bregwen approached him, deep in a heated discussion regarding some trees close to the Elven way, and had come to him for counsel. "We need to create firebreaks to prevent the flames from reaching the Halls. But it will mean cutting down some of the Great Beeches, Muindor. Do I have your consent?"

"Hir Aran Nin, these trees have housed my kinfolk for centuries. We know them well. There must be another way?" said Bregwen.

Thranduil was silent as he considered the matter. These were noble Beeches he had watched grow from seedlings. The thought of cutting them down broke his heart. But if the forest was to survive, even the trees would have to make sacrifices. "I am sorry, Lady Bregwen. We must ask the Great Beeches to submit to this. Explain to them what must be done and save any seedlings you can, Calenamath."

Calenamath nodded and turned to leave. "Wait!" cried Bregwen. "If it must be done, then let me. They will understand better if I do it."

"Very well, Lady Bregwen, you may assist Calenamath with his task. Give my gratitude to the trees. I hope they will understand." Both of them bowed their heads and hurried away. The Great Doors opened and scores of armed Elven warriors in leather armour exited the Halls singing war songs.

Thorwen, Celephinniel and her daughters followed, both armed and ready for battle. It was the first time he had ever seen Thorwen in full armour. With her visor down and the lower part of her face covered, she looked more like an Elven princeling of the Elder days than a maiden. Her dark and silver braids hung down her back almost to her waist. And her silver eyes cut through the gloom like gleaming swords.

They bowed low when they reached him. "What news, Hir Aran melleth nin?" said Thorwen.

Thranduil explained scouts had reported Orcs approaching from the west and south, lighting fires as they went. "And as for the Beornings, Orcs passed them a day or two ago. They fought bravely, but their casualties were high. The Great Hall of Beorn has been raised to the ground and Lord Grimbeorn is no more."

"What are your orders?" asked Celephinniel.

"I would ask you, Celephinniel, to take charge of the healers and water carriers. Faelnith and Merenthel to assist your mother. Thorwen and I will lead the armies westward to push back the Orcs."

Thorwen nodded without hesitation. He had expected as much. He knew if it came to it, she would rather die by his side than cower behind the Hall's defences. "May 'The One' keep you both safe," said Celephinniel. She and her daughters embraced Thranduil and Thorwen before they departed.

Thranduil and Thorwen walked across the bridge where the grooms were waiting with Calithiliel and Lagorphen. Both mounted their rides before Thranduil addressed the waiting warriors.