A shadow lies on Thranduil and his forest, and only a power stronger than the darkness of old can save them.
Grief and loss have turned him into a king with a heart of ice, and if he is ever to find redemption, the chains of guilt and remorse holdin...
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In a matter of minutes Thranduil's chamber transformed into a bustling beehive, dark-haired elves coming and going, always graceful despite their busy rush. Anna stayed put on the bench where Thranduil had left her, not really knowing how to fit in and what to do next.
Luckily she was spared the choice of doing something possibly awkward when an amiable elven lady approached her with a bundle of neatly folded clothes draped around her arm.
"My dear," she said, smiling down at her encouragingly, "you must be tired from your journey."
Her eyes were a light grey and her long brown hair with braids on either side framed her pale face beautifully. A long green dress flowed around her, complementing her dark hair and fair skin. She was of an ageless beauty beyond the count of human years, but the giddy excitement with which she approached Anna told her that she might be still quite young, at least in elven years.
Anna smiled at her wryly. "Yes I am." As a matter of fact she was exhausted, but not nearly as much from her journey as from her stirring emotional encounter with the Elvenking.
The elleth pointed at the space beside Anna. "May I?" Anna nodded weakly. After laying the clothes on the nearby table she made herself comfortable beside Anna.
"I am Brethilwen. My Lord Thranduil sent me to look after you and help you prepare for tonight's banquet."
"Prepare? But why...?" Her question earned her an irritated look.
"Well, it is obvious that you cannot go like this!" Brethilwen's hand waiving in the general direction of her less than elegant non-elvish appearance. "It is a lavish feast with illustrious guests and you need to be dressed accordingly."
"But I do not feel that I am ready for such an occasion. I cannot even understand why I should be invited to this gathering. I am not an elf, just human. And not even from here." Anna shook her head, mumbling "and I am still wondering how I got here."
"If the king wishes you to attend his banquet he will have his reasons. You are to abide by his rules, not to question his authority." Her matter-of-fact voice would not brook any dissent. "And besides it is an honour rarely granted to anyone outside the royal family, even less an adaneth. You can count yourself blessed for he has chosen you above many others." She saw the look of confusion on her face. "Ah, yes I am sorry, you do not speak our language, I imagine?"
Anna shook her head. "No, I don't."
Brethilwen was eager to give her an explanation. "When we are amongst ourselves we use our tongue which is Sindarin, but when we have dealings with others we use Westron as well, the Common Speech, you know. So when I called you adaneth, it means that you are a mortal woman, not an elf." She had a look on her face as if she hoped for Anna to ask her more questions.
Anna obliged: "So, what does your name mean then? It sounds very beautiful."
"Oh it means beech maiden. You see, for us the forest with all its trees, flowers and beasts is a place of beauty that we cherish beyond anything else. All living things are sacred to the Elves, we live amongst them and we are a part of them. So has it always been and will it ever be." The wisdom of the ages seemed to ring through her words and for a moment they were both silent beside each other.
