Shredders of Destinies

40. The Lament of the Elvenking

Halls of the Elvenking, Mirkwood, 2956 TA, September 15

In the fading light of dusk, the small caravan made its way through the dense forest of Mirkwood. The atmosphere was heavy with the weight of recent events, each member of the party lost in their own thoughts. The elves, silent and vigilant, guided their mounts with a grace that seemed at odds with the somber mood.

Xena, now seated on a horse, found herself grappling with the revelation of Legolas's royal lineage. The knowledge that she had been traveling with the prince of Mirkwood added a layer of complexity to their already tangled journey. Her mind, weary from the ordeal, tried to piece together the fragments of their adventure, her thoughts intermittently drifting to the bones of Legolas's mother that they carried with them.

Legolas, meanwhile, was a picture of exhaustion and pain. His injuries, both physical and emotional, had taken their toll. He rode in a daze, his mind clouded by the echoes of the dark experiences they had endured. The presence of his father, King Thranduil, brought a conflicting sense of comfort and unease. The reality of his mother's remains being so close, yet the finality of her loss, weighed heavily on his heart.

Thranduil rode at the head of the group, his thoughts a tumultuous storm. The return of his wife's remains, the condition of his son, and the involvement of this mortal woman, Xena, were all factors that he struggled to reconcile. His gaze often drifted back to Legolas, a silent promise of protection and support in his eyes.

The journey back to the Woodland Realm was a quiet one, with only the sounds of the forest and the occasional murmur of the elves breaking the silence. The tension of the recent battle with the orcs still lingered, casting a shadow over them, but there was also a sense of relief. They were heading home, away from the dangers of Gundabad, towards the safety and sanctuary of their kingdom.

As the moon rose higher in the sky, casting a silver glow through the canopy of the dense forest, the group finally approached the borders of Thranduil's realm. The familiar sights and sounds of the Woodland Realm were a balm to their weary souls. The guards at the border, upon recognizing their king and prince, quickly mobilized to provide aid.

Xena, still atop her horse, watched the elven kingdom unfold before her. The majesty of the woodland, with its ancient trees and hidden paths, was both awe-inspiring and intimidating. She wondered what fate awaited her within these realms, under the watchful eyes of Thranduil.

The group traversed the winding paths of Mirkwood, their journey illuminated by the ethereal glow of the moonlight filtering through the dense canopy above. As they neared the heart of the Elvenking's realm, the trees seemed to part, revealing the majestic architecture of the elven halls. These ancient structures, carved into the living wood and stone, stood as a testament to the enduring spirit of the Woodland Elves.

Upon their arrival, the elves of Thranduil's court came forward, their expressions a mixture of relief and solemnity at the return of their prince and king, and curiosity towards the mortal, Xena. Whispered words and soft elven songs filled the air, creating an atmosphere of reverence and respect.

Legolas was gently helped down from his horse, his every movement betraying his exhaustion and pain. Thranduil, ever the protective father, stayed close to his son, offering a silent support that spoke volumes of their bond. Xena, though physically and mentally drained, maintained a composed demeanor, her eyes taking in the splendor of the elven halls with a quiet appreciation.

The group was led to the healing chambers, a sanctuary of tranquility and restorative energies. The healers of Mirkwood, skilled in the ancient arts of elven medicine, immediately attended to Legolas and Xena, their gentle hands and soothing words working to ease their pain and heal their wounds.