Home (Thranduil fanfic)

Chapter 3

The next morning she saddled a horse and headed out of the village gates down to the greener valley below. She had gone to pay her respects to Livie's family and the little boy who'd lost his mum so horrificly yesterday. He had been taken in by his grandparents, and hadn't wanted to let go of her when she hugged him goodbye. In truth, his mom and her shared more than a passing resemblance, and she hadn't had the heart to push him away. This all felt terribly depressing, she thought, as she finally straightened her simple green tunic and fiddled with the band she'd hastily tied her hair with.

Yet her own faith was also playing a cruel trick on her. A long time ago, well over a century in human terms, she had turned her back on her existence among the elves of the green woods, disillusioned with their complacency towards mortals, and, she was ashamed to admit to herself, worried by the battles that had raged involving her kin and other races. Though she was a fine fighter, swift and handy with a blade, her real skill lay in archery, which made the recent attack on the village feel even more tragic in a way.

Most of all, she had turned her back on the elven king: the handsome yet arrogant and strong-willed ruler of the woodland realm. His looks could enchant any being, as she bitterly remembered. Embarrassment washed over her as she remembered the last time they had met and she had, clumsily, tried to approach him.

Bittersweet memories came streaming back of a time when she'd been one of his elite fighters, recognized for her skills and admired by many for her looks. As she rocked rhythmically on her horse she had to smile at that thought. 'Not much to look at now' she murmured to herself, running a hand through her matted brown hair tied in a ponytail. In truth, she'd prefer not to have to go back and face any of this. Yet she knew she must.

In the clearing immediately before the forest began, she set her horse free. 'Run back and be safe,' she said to her, as the mare shook her head and then reared back towards where they had come from. Alone, she stood at the edge of the forest.

Willing herself to move forward, she crossed the border. When she entered the lush vegetation of the forest floor, it was as if she could feel... something. A presence, aware of all that grows and passes through the forest, turning its mind's eye towards her.

She followed the forest paths, unseen by human eyes but clear as daylight to an elf, until she reached the gateways to the center of the forest. This was it, she thought. No turning back. The river ran, boiling and crashing, under the mossy walkway she was crossing now.

At once, she thought she heard a whisper on the wind, subtle as a summer's breeze. The hairs in her neck stood erect and she involuntarily tensed up. It seemed to sigh a welcome return to her, as she crossed into King Thranduil's inner realm.

Le nathlam hí – be welcome here... So much for entering incognito.