Kingsfoil [Thranduil] LOTR

Unstoppable

2745, Third Age:

Fall came quickly that year with an early frost, and King Thranduil rode out with the Forest Guard to survey the southern woods.  Long had a gloom lay upon the far edge of the forest.  The trees were sick, dying even.  Corrupted, twisted creatures dwelled there, spiders akin to Ungoliant, large loathsome beasts, and the southern watches reported orcs moving in packs toward what used to be Amon Lanc. So it was that the Elvenking left his comfortable halls to see firsthand the damage wrought by the sickness seeping from Dol Guldur.

On the third night, clouds veiled the stars and moon.  Under the trees, the dark was as thick as pitch save for the torches and fires lit on the Elvenking's command.  The enemy was close.  All could sense it.  The trees were uneasy, their Song discordant, marred.  Something foul lurked beneath their boughs. 

Thranduil ordered his guards to go about their normal ways setting up camp but to remain alert, to keep their weapons close.   No one sang as the guards were apt to do, no one laughed or played games of chance by the light of the fire; instead the company of woodelves, their captain, their king listened and waited. 

Deep into the night, when the air was still and the trees, unmoving, the enemy attacked.  Dark, moon-eyed goblins and orcs charged from the south, sent from the bowels of Dol Guldur to test the fortitude of the woodelves and their king.  The ambush was fierce and chaotic, for the enemy had sent enough of his minions to overpower the smaller camp of elves easily. 

But long had these people fought and defended their homeland against dark creatures; the elves of the Woodland Realm were adamant and bold. 

They fought for king and country.

Thranduil's people had once been labeled less wise and more dangerous. Truly, his Forest Guard had trained to lethal precision in order to keep their lands safe. 

They would not allow themselves to be easily overcome.  Every elf, king included, charged into the fray with all manner of weapons: knives, arrows, swords, lances.  At the time of the attack, Thranduil stood speaking quietly with Legolas and Narylfiel, conferring over whether they should douse the fires or not.  At the first shout from one of their scouts, Legolas drew his bow and sought higher ground where he might more effectively pick off the enemy.  Thranduil drew his sword, and to his side, Narylfiel pulled her own set of long knives from their scabbard. 

The fighting immediately became hectic. Goblins shouting and charging from three sides; they moved quickly in the dark and saw as well as elves could, if not better.  Thranduil slashed and carved his way through the first wave, vaguely aware of Narylfiel to his right.  One cannot really stop and observe how someone fights next to you when being besieged by a number of horrible and grimy foes bent on beheading every elf in their path.  Still, Thranduil was warrior enough to remain aware of his surroundings, to be cognizant of the people next to him, foe or friend. 

He had never fought beside Narylfiel before tonight.  Of course, he had sparred with her, helped train her, corrected her on all the manner of things for which young warriors need correcting...but he had never fought side by side with her, against a common enemy, to see her in the field and behold her true capacity. 

Later, much later in the privacy of their family common room in the royal wing, Thranduil would sit down with Narylfiel and revisit all the finer points of what he observed in the quick ten minutes, perhaps twenty, of death and bloodshed delivered on the southern border of his realm. 

In the moment, however, Thranduil observed her handily gut a gobin with one blade and then turn to slit the throat of an oncoming orc with the other.  This was the same sweet elfling who used to draw him pictures of his Giant Elk with flowers and bows in his antlers.  Now she spun in the mud and disemboweled an orc as it tried to ream her with its mace.  Somehow under his care and watch, and even with his blessing, Narylfiel had become lethal, a dangerous and deadly force.