Another World

Chapter 35

Thranduil rode hard and fast on the speckled grey horse that he had procured for the journey. His hair and cloak billowed behind him, stark white contrasting with charcoal grey, and he kept his gaze forward with fierce intensity, his eyes narrowed, and his features set in hard lines. Feren and a handful of guards followed close behind, struggling to keep pace with the hellbent Elvenking. Thranduil, right now, was single-mindedly focused on reaching his destination, and he only grudgingly allowed a few hours rest now and then as they navigated the lands.

If they continued at the harrowing pace he had set, they would reach the Golden Wood in seven days instead of the estimated ten. And Thranduil was determined to reach Lothlorien as soon as possible; he was on a mission and there was no stopping him.

With each sunrise and sunset, his sorrow clawed mercilessly at his heart, digging and burrowing deeper and deeper with each passing hour. It was a great struggle to keep a tight hold on his composure and not break down as his grief overwhelmed him like the crushing tide.

Feren must have sensed this alarming shift within his King, but he wisely kept all questions and thoughts to himself, merely nodding when Thranduil issued him a command. But Thranduil could sense his keen eyes trained on him, assessing and trying to figure out what had overcome his King to bring about such a troubling mood. But Thranduil would not be forthcoming with answers, and Feren would never ask – one of the reasons why he had chosen the ellon to accompany him.

They followed along the River Anduin, the swift currents causing a clamorous roar as they rode alongside it. Thranduil scanned the treeline, knowing from past experience that there were marchwardens stationed close by; always watching and always guarding their sacred land. They would offer safe passage across the torrential river that was currently sending a fine, misty spray across his face - but he had yet to catch sight of them.

His agitation grew – they should have made their appearance known by now! Thranduil had no choice but to continue and soon they happened upon a section of the river that ran calmer.

Thranduil halted, suddenly sensing that they were being watched. About time! He tilted his chin up, remaining stonily silent as he waited for them to show themselves.

He didn't have to wait long before a marchwarden materialised from the trees that grew thick and lush on the opposite bank. He was accompanied by another, both carrying a small boat between them with ease.

Thranduil watched as the one elf climbed into the boat and paddled towards him, standing tall and straight. As he neared, Thranduil was surprised to note that it was Haldir - usually the ellon patrolled the northern borders. For him to come and meet the Elvenking was indeed unusual. But he was relieved to see him, for Haldir carried himself in a quiet and guarded manner; his reserved natured would prove to be a balm to his battered fëa, as Thranduil knew Haldir was one of few who would be able to discreetly steer him from drowning in his emotions.

Haldir docked the boat and climbed out with swift grace. He stood before Thranduil, swathed in his grey cloak that could blend him easily into his surroundings. He had his hood down, his long and sleek golden hair falling over his shoulders, and he regarded Thranduil with cool blue eyes.

"King Thranduil," he greeted in his soft, melodious voice, bowing his head respectfully and curling his hand over his heart. Haldir straightened and added, "My Lady sent me in preparation for your arrival."

"Did she now," Thranduil mused bitterly. He was not very happy with Galadriel right now, and he didn't bother to hide his irritation.

Thranduil scanned the opposite riverbank. All that separated him from the inevitable confrontation with the Lady of Light was a gushing river that was near impossible to cross without assistance.