Kingsfoil [Thranduil] LOTR

Ready

Four hundred years ago...

Narylfiel dangled her shorter legs over the tree limb, high above the ground as she intently studied how Legolas easily balanced on the branch, his feet as sure and steady as if he stood on solid ground. Far below, Thaliniel rested comfortably against the trunk of the tree, occasionally laughing at the antics of her little sister and husband. Early in the morning, even before breakfast, Legolas brought them out to one of his favorite climbing trees, an enormous beech with branches easy within reach for shorter elfling arms. He had promised Narylfiel he would help teach her to listen to the Song of their forest, to listen to the trees. The suggestion naturally entranced Narylfiel, of course, who was eager to learn from her much admired brother-in-law.

"Do you hear it yet, Narylfiel?" he asked her, the early morning light touching the crown of his head like a benediction.

She angled her head, listening and then frowned a little. "No...maybe? Does it sound like branches sighing in the wind and birdsong?"

The corners of his mouth curved up as Legolas sat down beside her, took her hand in his larger one and pressed it against the tree's rough bark. "Close your eyes and listen," he instructed. "The Song of our woods is much like the Song of your father's vineyard, part of the music of Eru's creation, beautiful and wild and free. I can teach you to hear it."

Narylfiel squeezed her eyes shut and held perfectly still, straining to hear the music Legolas described. However she only heard branches rustling, birds chirping, squirrels chattering...

She popped one eye open and then the other and gave Legolas a long look. "I still can't hear it the way you describe." She gave a little sigh. "Maybe I'll never hear it."

"You will," Legolas assured her. "It just takes practice. I needed help when I first started listening too."

Narylfiel perked up a bit at his admission. She wasn't hopeless then. "Who taught you to hear the Song, Legolas?"

The prince smiled softly. "My father," he said. "As king, he listens all the time, is attune to its Song more than anyone, I imagine."

Legolas could not have spoken more persuasively. For if young Narylfiel appreciated and admired her brother-in-law, her feelings for King Thranduil were something akin to hero worship. Now even more determined, Narylfiel closed her eyes and pressed her hand to the bark.

"Relax a little," Legolas whispered to her. "Be observant. Listen..." And as Legolas' father did once for him, the prince used his fëa to amplify the song around them so she might hear.

Narylfiel gasped and pulled her hand away. "I heard something!" she cried. "I can't describe it...soaring notes like sunlight shining through green leaves and then deep notes like the richness of the soil and strong roots delving and weaving through the earth."

"You heard this tree's song," Legolas told her gently, "but that, Narylfiel, is only one voice in our Forest's song."

Her eyes widened. "That was only one part? What must it sound like to hear everything?" she exclaimed.

Legolas grinned. "You should really ask my father to show you."

Wonder lit Narylfiel's eyes. "Do you think he would?" Her voice rose in anticipation.

"I believe so," he told her kindly. His father's bonds as Elvenking truly tied Thranduil to the pulse of the Forest, more so than any other elf. Thranduil had shown Legolas what it meant to listen to the Song countless years ago, and the sheer magnitude of the Greenwood's Song as heard by the Elvenking overwhelmed and humbled him then. It still did.