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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The next morning greeted Anna with the worst possible of hangovers, physically and emotionally. She lay awake in her bed, the disastrous outcome of last night's banquet coming back vividly to her mind. She did not know when she had fallen asleep and how she had gotten to this room. She could not even tell for sure that it was in the morning, since this room lay deep underground and chandeliers were illuminating her chamber with a dim amber glow. She looked up to the ceiling, which spanned above her like a vaulted cave and fanned out into various pillars, carved out of the stone to resemble trees, with vines coiling decoratively around their rocky stems.
Anna groaned and sank back into the pillows, images of yesterday's insane happenings flashing bright like daylight in front of her inner eye. She was too embarrassed to even think about it and buried herself under the sheets, hoping that she would just wake up somewhere else far from here, where she had not yet made an idiot out of herself.
But then it slowly dawned on her and she remembered that she was already somewhere else, it was only yesterday that some inexplicable twist of fate had brought her here, into this forest and the hands of its king, Thranduil.
And she was stuck. Now that she had angered the king she had shut possibly the only way back. And if not the king, who else could help her then? Or maybe he wanted nothing more than to get rid of her as quickly as possible? What if he just dumped her in the middle of the forest? Either way, it was a hopeless situation.
A determined knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She was not even dressed, no way she would open that door. "Go away," she mumbled and pulled the sheets further up her head. But whoever it was, was insistent and the knocking wouldn't stop. Frustrated, she sat up, tossing around and untangling her legs from the sheets. She called "What is it?!" a little too rude while massaging her temples with her fingertips in an effort to relieve the stinging pressure on her forehead. A female voice answered. "Please, my lady, allow me to come in."
She had almost forgotten that Brethilwen had promised her to show her the palace this morning. Oh well, at least it was not the king coming to see her, she would not have been able to look him in the eyes, not after what she had said to him last night.
"Come in," she said in the most stoical attitude she could muster.
The door was pushed open by a red-haired elf, lean and energetic in her appearance, her eyes keen and observant. She wore a moss green dress, tall brown leather boots and a dagger on either side of her waist. One look was enough to reveal that she was a fighter not a servant. She greeted Anna with a brief inclination of the head and addressed her curtly.
"Good morning my lady, the king sends for you. When you are ready, would you please follow me?"
Anna pulled her sheets tighter around her body, stammering. "I-I think I am not really ready. I am not dressed and I was not expecting," she searched for the right words, "I was expecting someone else." She smiled wryly at her, hoping not to have sounded impolite.
