When a darkness spreads across Mirkwood, a mighty elven kingdom is robbed from its bliss. A once vibrant people hides behind the walls of their kingdom and the forest grew into a bleak and uneasy place.
The other realms suspected Thranduil of being...
The King walked up the stairs, his wife on one arm and his infant son on his shoulders. Sunbeams shone from above and illuminated the huge stairwell. The scent of the forest wafted through the air and there was silence.
'We can take a walk in the forest later this afternoon. I'm sure Legolas will appreciate that too,' Elithien said to her husband as they emerged onto the platform where the large oak thrones were placed. The thrones forged of the finest oak in the kingdom of Mirkwood. Stately and imposing, they were located above the platform. The king's throne was decorated with big antlers, the antlers of his father's elk, which had died a long time ago. Oropher loved the animal so much that he had had the antlers converted into his own throne, so that he could be seates on the animal's back forever, safely surrounded by the antlers that had served him in battles for so many years.
Elithiens throne was smaller, simpler and lower above the grouns. She wanted a place next to her husband, but did not want to tower over him. Elithien had little need to be above her subjects.
'A walk would be nice. It is time Legolas discovered the woods. My dear, imagine how he would grow, into a strong and wise prince. He will ride on the most beautiful horse I can find, through these woods.' Thranduil cast a glance at his son and smiled when the little fellow called his name again, as he had done for the past few weeks. Thranduil could not get enough of his son's voice.
Elithien took her son from Thranduil's arms and set him down by her feet. Legolas remained seated and looked around in wonder.
'He will be a good prince, just like his father used to be. And he will grow to be a great king, just as his father is now.' She wrapped her arm around his waist, her head resting against his chest. Next to him she was so small, so briddle. She pressed him close so he could feel her warmth. They stood like that for a moment, in a close embrace, thinking of nothing but what they were feeling at the moment; happiness.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded below them. A young elf sprinted up the steps, he bowed quickly to the royal couple and spoke. 'My King,' said the young elf gravely, 'there is news from the forest. Trolls have been spotted.'
'What, how many?" asked the King, already unbuttoning his cloak.
'Four, your highness. How many men should we send there?'
'I'll go and I'll take ten men,' he stated. He turned to his wife. 'Stay here and keep him close. We'll barricade the gates.'
She nodded and kissed him. It took the utmost effort for him to tear himself away from her lips, stroke his son's head and leave them behind. He hurried down the stairs and followed the young elf to the armory, where he snatched his sword and bow from the wall and walked out through the gate.
The huge elk, which stood there, grazing, raised its head and looked his way. Its imposing antlers just barely touched the leaves of the tall tree. His gold-colored eyes followed the king. 'Saddle him. We're going on horseback.'
In no time, a large saddle was placed on the elk's back, the cover finished with silver thread and a beautifully decorated bridle and breast harness. Thranduil climbed into the saddle and the animal gritted its teeth along the bit. Thranduil steered his faithful companion toward his men. The ten riders on horseback waited patiently for orders. Thranduil glanced over his shoulder at the great gates of his kingdom and then disappeared into the forest.
Thundering hooves stomped through the forest. Grass was trampled, stomped and pulverized. Wind violently blew through Thranduil's ears. Animals shot sideways into the thicket. The forest was alive and it wanted to be heard. The waters of the Enchanted River rustled in the background. A river so enchantingly beautiful that it thanked its name for that. Fertile, full of fish and aquatic plants, where all the animals of the forest came to quench their thirst.
Thranduil made haste. The trolls were far from the kingdom, but Thranduil was not thinking about the kingdom. There was another reason that drove him pick up the pace. He had heard many stories from his father about the spirit of the forest, which was often spotted near the Enchanted River. This spirit was embodied as a deer, a beautiful, white deer that generally avoided contact with the elves.
Thranduil had never discovered what importance this spirit had in the forest, which was not clear to any elf. Some believed that the spirit kept the forest fertile, others believed that the spirit ensured unity among animals. Whether these rumors were truths or not did not matter to Thranduil. This spirit had once done Thranduil a great service. A service that he had not been able to repay until now.
Thranduil's biggest concern was that the trolls would get too close to the deer. They have no respect for a spirit like this and would only be interested in the meat on its bones. He had to chase them away, no matter what. Trolls were not welcome in The Green Forest.
He knew exactly where they were headed. The mountains of the green forest, the only place where trolls were safe from the sunlight. The king clamped his jaws together, it had been a long time since he had encountered trolls. The creatures were stupid, but very dangerous, a single mistake could be fatal.
A wave of fear overtook his body as he thought of his dear wife and infant son. He was afraid that maybe this time he would make that one mistake. Even though he had fought dozens of battles, death always peeked around the corner. Only the thought about his family being safe, eased the worries in his mind and heart. For them, he put everything on the line.
No enemy would hurt his loved ones, not as long as he could weild a sword.
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