To Live Again: Waiting Between Worlds {Lord of the Rings Fanfiction}

21. Reign

Fifty Years into the Reign of
King Thranduil
Of the Woodland Realm
and
Northern Greenwood:
Approx. TA 51.

A subtle aura of calm envelopes my glowing gardens. The insects hum and crawl from plant to plant; the bees busily storing honey in the natural rocks that build up the pillars that make up their hives, the ants and various crawling creatures rambling over rock and leaf in their orderly fashion - a day's work is never done. Their lives too short to stop for a moment, time is just something they never have, I never thought I would be separate from them. I always assumed my days would countdown to a final hour, I could almost laugh at the surreal twist of events. My life did countdown, and this is my immortality...what a curious curse and gift? I understand now, I am tied to the world and its ages, grieving and rejoicing in it. Feeling sorrow for my people when they are wounded and struggle to heal, celebrating and lifting them up when they overcome...and we have overcome much.

In the fifty years since Thranduil took the throne much has changed. In the aftermath of the war we had few ellyn, and what we did have were the wounded shells of haunted elves. The Kingdom was weak and shaken to its core, with an equally wounded King and, in fairness, a very naive Queen. But my ever determined, or you may call him stubborn, husband was not prepared to sit idly. He carried a tremendous burden of responsibility to his fellow warriors, and somehow managed to take his council and wrestle them out of their despair. I was in awe of his tenacity and his strength, for he was not prepared to let his people fall into desolation and ruin over a war they did not start. Within a few weeks of his crowning he had completely upturned the former council, purposefully choosing warriors and elves who had been loyal to him, and him alone, to take up positions of power. The most shocking moment came one morning he stormed into the council chambers and threw signed parchment on the table, his official orders that proclaimed Aradan his chief councillor and second in command. This immediately elevated Aradan to one of the highest positions a humble silvan elf could ever be granted. This also lifted Oliel to a high ranking lady of court, and as such she was expected to become the Queen's hand maiden...I was thrilled of course.

The next step was to secure growth and recovery, something Thranduil and I threw ourselves into together. I reached into the Kingdom to source as many young elves willing and able to learn the arts of healing, the halls were opened up and the fields and orchids were filled with wounded elves learning to become useful again. Warriors who could no longer fight become skilled farmers and fishers, bakers and carpenters. Our skills flourished and our people became ever more connected and tightly knitted in a common goal...to take back their former glory. As expected there were many happy unions, and multitudes of births, but sadly not for me. I was too busy learning how to deliver the babies than having the opportunity to make them, but my needs came secondary to the peoples...it was only fair.

Thranduil wasted little time in carving out his plan for the improvement and fortification of his realm. His priority was security and safety, he did not want to rely on the charity of our neighbours and would vehemently refuse any aid from Celeborn - though it was offered more than once. He looked further afield to searching out trade and relations, seeking to open up old channels with the Dorwinion Avarian people, which proved a healthy and prosperous relationship. The wine was a commodity, and became wonderful trade for the men and dwarves that were slowly beginning to make their way north, settling not far from our borders. Thranduil, never keen on relations with dwarf lords, tended to favour men and thus we enjoyed good relations with our mortal neighbours and woodsmen. Growth was slow at first, but Thranduil was not beyond rolling up his sleeves and throwing himself into the fray with his people. Crops multiplied, orchids grew, fishers nets teamed again, and hunters grew in skill, until our tables and larders were once again full and brimming over with the opulence of their former glory. The King's Halls became even more magical and ethereal, hidden under the cover of the forest, even more so than they had been under Oropher. Personally I believed this was due to Thranduil's strengthening spirit, because with each and every one of his small victories he grew in confidence and more settled in his abilities. As long as his people remained safe, and as long as their pride was intact, he was strong and very sure. Yes, in fifty years so much had changed...but we still do not forget the past.