Fireheart [ ON HOLD]

1

Today's tale begins with the tale of an elf. Not any elf in particular, such as the small hand-sized magic-making creature children dream of at night to give them wishes, no, this was a noble elf, high in rank, a king, by the name of Thranduil. This task left feelings of trouble, grief, stress but also strength as he knew it was his duty to protect his people. However, this elf preferred many a time to escape the labors of his kingly duties to go off into the forest and seek adventures that lurked within. His father, Oropher, who had left the world of Middle-Earth, due to a valiant death in battle, often told his son Thranduil, that he should focus upon being the best king, doing well in his princely studies, rather than rushing off seeking the unknown. Hearing, but not always heeding his father's council, Thranduil worked hard in his studies – which in his opinion were rather boring - and after, returned to his adventures.

And that is where our story begins, in the depths of the Woodland realm, alongside one of Thranduil's adventures. Earlier that day, he had attended a council with the Captain of the guard, an elf of good taste and many, many words, resulting in talks far longer than expected. Whilst the king listened to him drabble on about this and that, he was saved when a guard rushed in, declaring there was trouble in the forest. After further inquiry, it was told that several wolves, fearsome in nature, had been seen wandering in the midst of the trees. But as the guard spoke on it was soon made clear that there were more than just a handful of wolves lurking about but something more, perhaps deadly. Immediately the Captain set out to round up a search party only to be stopped by Thranduil, who was eager for a new adventure and the answer no he would not take. A magnificent swordsman and bowman the king was, being fearless when it came to combat. Reluctantly, the Captain complied. Nearly jumping for joy, off went King Thranduil, feeling like a young elfling once again.

An hour passed as Thranduil began his adventure accompanied by two elves, of the names Hissaelon and Eldrin. Though both elf-lads were still under training to be part of the elven ranks, Thranduil took this chance to test all the numerous skills they had learned, having heard continuous praise from their teachers. Both were puzzled and nervous to be hunting alongside the King of Mirkwood, possibly the highest honor they could have, since all of his subjects knew hunting was one of his favorite activities to do and that hunting with Thranduil was the rarest of honors. Explaining the mission – quick and simple- he tested them at the start, letting them find the creatures. Their skill and quick thinking leapt into action and almost immediately they had found a trail of paw prints, blood stained leading off into the deeper part of the forest.

"They seem to show there is more than one; however, it does not show how many." Eldrin observed as they walked together.

"Then keep you bow to the ready, and your ears and eyes alert." Thranduil instructed.

Onward they ventured, farther into the castle, till it seemed they had lost the trail, however, Hissaelon had not thrown away his senses as quickly and immediately held up a hand for them to stop.

"What is it Mellon Nin?" Eldrin whispered curiously. A finger, Hissaelon held to his lips as he listened and pointed towards the east as he hid behind a bush. Pushing aside the brush they saw them at last, the wolves. Snuffling and snorting, noses to the ground they hunted for their next meal; pelts unkempt and the occasional scars showed these creatures were bred fighters, surviving to the end.

Turning away letting the brush fall back into place, Thranduil and Eldrin and Hissaelon spoke quietly, discussing how to rid the forest of these foul brute beasts. For several long moments they argued till at last they agreed to each take a tree from those surrounding the overgrown and unkempt wolves. Slowly as to not rustle nor disturb the leaves and sticks beneath their feet, each of elves pressed their backs to a trunk of a tree. Each waited and counted to five before releasing an arrow. Each wolf dropped to the ground, fur padding the fall, no noise from the body's falling. Seven overgrown dogs lay unmoving upon the ground, some still with a snarl on their faces.

"Well done my friends." The king praised, impressed at all their skill used to complete this hunt. "Hissaelon? Return to the kingdom and send out several guards to bring these wolves back to the castle, I want the pelts for my beds and the meat for my feasts."

"Yes, my king!" Hardly a sound could be heard from Hissaelons feet as he ran off.

Thranduil called for Eldrin, however the elf had disappeared. No sooner than he had begun wondering where the young elf-lad could have run off too, Eldrin returned, eyes filled with fear almost falling in a heap before the king.

"Lord Thranduil!" He breathed "You must come at once and see this!"

"There." Eldrin pointed from behind the boulder both he and the king crouched behind. Smoke filled the air, a remnant of destruction and death; ash and charred shrubbery littered the ground along with the bodies of slain elves. Astonishment and horror slapped both Eldrin and King Thranduil as both crept forward cautiously, weapons drawn should any enemy leap out and attack. Thirty to fifty elves lay slain, some bloodied and others burnt beyond repair, skin destroyed, open wounds showing muscles and some bone beneath.

"My lord...what in the Valars name has happened here?"

Thranduil sent an irritated look towards the young elf-lad, warning him. "Do you think I know?! How should I know when I do not venture beyond my own gates most days and hunt very sparingly? How should I know, when last I looked the fires in Mirkwood did not attack their own kindlers."

Eldrin's eyes lowered in defeat, a silent apology.

"I understand you are still young, but in all due respect Eldrin, let not any useless questions slip past your lips if you know those around you cannot answer. That is your lesson for today."

A roar split the air like a knife, causing both Thranduil and Eldrin to whip around, but they were too late and something large and long with great force barreled into them, throwing both against the boulder. Head spinning the king attempted to rise only to collapse to his knees as his stomach churned dangerously. Blinking his eyes he glanced at Eldrin, who lay unconscious beside him. Cursing the frailty of younger elves, Thranduil drew his sword feebly only to be grabbed about the waist and thrown mercilessly into the air and against a tree. Slumping to the ground, weak, beaten and terrified, the king focused on his breathing, knowing this could be the end.

Something struck him across the cheek roughly, Thranduil's head snapped to the side and he fell into darkness.

The last thing he saw was an enormous eye...yellow and fearsome, yet glaring at him in anger and rage...

I dedicate this story to because, firstly she made the cover for it...*APPLAUSE* APPLAUD YOU ALL! And secondly, she has inspired me, after I inspired her, [Thranduil: SHUT UP AND GET TO THE POINT!] OKAY! I will...Anyway, because of her , I believe my writing skills have improved a ton...THANK YOU MELLON NIN!

Hope you enjoy this story! I had it up before, but its back !

May the Grace of the Valar protect you!

Nin