"In his realm, you are at his mercy"

War, rage and ruin followed the lineage of the Noldor throughout the history of Arda. Thranduil knows very well how the feud between the Sindar and the Noldor changed his destiny since the War of the Last Alliance and still holds distrust and perhaps hate towards the descendants of the ones who came from Valinor.

All of it comes to surface when a mysterious Noldorin lady comes to Mirkwood.

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To an untrained eye, she was just one elf among all the others who would pay respect to the Elvenking holding court in his throne room that day. Clad in purple and blue robes, her dark hair adorned with a tiara of pearls and white gems. A beautiful sight to see and a voice that sounded like a well played instrument. The Elvenking immediately recognised in the visitor from Rivendell the aura of those who hold the ancestry from the West, elves with the cursed blood from the First, endeared by Ilúvatar.

A Noldor.

Something wicked boiled in the back of Thranduil's mind when he looked into her cold grey eyes and saw them bold and bright. There was more than defiance and a will to flaunt her nobility around. He was sure she was not older than him, as he could see her soul did not carry the weariness only the long years can bring. The elleth with her wretched heritage, let it slip in her eyes, for her own misfortune - or not - that she wanted him. And he was very much aware of the power he exerted upon his subjects within or out of his borders. In the short instant when she rose from her courtsey to greet the King of the Woodland Realm, he saw through her as if she was made of translucent crystal. He found a crack, and she was now at his mercy.

"Very well", the King thought, followed by an almost unperceivable smirk. "This Noldorin found a more than worthy oponent for her little power game". He greeted the lady and proceeded to the next subject to his obligations that day.

---

Later that evening, a letter with the seal of Thranduil was delivered to the lady's room in the guest wing of the palace. The servant handed her the letter and spoke nothing at all. The letter, written in Thranduil's elaborate calligraphy stated the following:

"By the ninth hour, a servant shall escort your ladyship to my chambers. Be ready when he comes. Upon your arrival, you should wait for further instructions."

The elleth was unsure of the motivations of that letter, for she had only come to the Mirkwood realm as a visitor to a friend in court. However, she remembered the fatidic instant from the throne room when she saw the King's eyes set aflame behind his stone cold appearance and her heart bumped in her chest. In any case, there was no way of refusing a formal invitation from the Elvenking. Although she could build in her mind several scenarios of what this letter could imply, any different answer would be treated as a high offence and a total lack of courtesy. Maybe she would even be "invited" to leave the realm by sunrise. She felt the king was clearly challenging her by displaying his power.

----

When the time came, the servant knocked at her door as it was expected and the lady proceeded to follow him to the King's quarters. She was dressed in a grey-blue gown, the colours of her House, and few sober but elegant jewels, as it was common in Rivendell, on the contrary to the royal imponence from the style of Mirkwood Realm.

The elleth could not believe she was being led to the Elvenking's private rooms, an honour destined to a few select ones. When arrived at the main room, she saw a splendid chamber decorated in red and gold, the furniture beautifully designed by the best artificers carved in dark wood and a huge window that opened to a balcony that filled the room with moonlight. On the other side, the only light that opposed to the natural nocturnal glow was a roaring fireplace with the sound of wood crackling in it. In the center of the room she saw a bed fit for a king, covered in deep red velvet and matching curtains in the middle of four pillars that served as bedposts carved, in the fashion of majestic trees, directly in the stone. Although elves do not need to sleep as much as humans or dwarves would, Thranduil had chosen to sleep surrounded by as much comfort he could afford.