Kingsfoil [Thranduil] LOTR

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Four hundred years ago...

Thranduil leaned on his heavy ornamental staff as he surveyed the wide sweep of grass under the trees. In truth, he usually enjoyed these sorts of days, seeing all of his people turned out in their finest, making merry. It was the annual celebration for the Feast of Flowers, the coming of spring to the Greenwood, but Thranduil's attention was drawn to the latest additions to his family, his son's new bride and her sister. Legolas and Thaliniel had been married for less than a month, and the Elvenking had been very careful to make sure the sisters' transition to the palace and royal life had been a pleasant one and that all of his courtiers had strived to make them feel welcome. He was protective of his own.

His eyes were drawn to Thaliniel, pink-cheeked and laughing as Legolas drew her under the trees with the other dancing couples. He had never seen his son act so carefree, so...happy. Thranduil did not fool himself that it could always be this way; he watched the south with a particularly careful eye. One day the darkness would return and cast its shadows onto his borders. He would need Legolas then, would depend on him to hold their kingdom together, but for now, he was glad to see his people untroubled, their hearts light. They had suffered so much already.

Thranduil's bright blue eyes scanned the crowd for the smallest addition to his family. Narylfiel. She was a handful, but Thranduil could not help but enjoy her. He straightened up. He did not see that dark little head of hair of hers anywhere. He glanced at the most likely option, the food tables. Not there. She loved dancing and music. He looked toward the merry lines of couples swaying together. Not there, either. She knew better than to wander into the woods alone, he told himself. He leaned his staff against his chair, and stepped down from the dais.