Eda is a flight-risk mercenary with a bad track record. Living on half-payments from uncompleted jobs, she hopes that her luck will change.
And it does.
When Eda meets Gandalf, he tells her that being reluctant to kill - valuing life - is not a wea...
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Chapter One: Heir Apparent
"Valar above, Thranduil...it's a title, not a viper," Adar grumbled, rubbing his forehead just under his crown. We stood in the anteroom bickering in undertones while, on the other side of this closed door, the tightly-arranged benches of the gathering hall filled with an eager kingdom.
His eager kingdom. Not mine.
Adar shifted his clothes, never quite comfortable in the more decorative robes Naneth insisted he wear for these events. "We've worked too hard for our enemies to destroy us through an oversight."
"You aren't going to die-we aren't mortal. You'll always be King, and so this," -I ignore his grimace and gestured at the growing crowd- "is absolute nonsense."
Adar gave an exasperated huff. "Humor me, Thranduil. Just...don't make a scene."
I echoed his huff. We stared away from each other until the music started. The crowd's excited whispering hushed, anticipation clinging to each clear note.
The rustle of fabric announced Naneth's arrival. We turned to greet her, and giving us each a kind smile, she went to Adar and kissed him.
Eew.
Once they finished exchanging saliva, she turned to me and placed her long, callused hand on my cheek. "You look so distinguished."
I ducked away and crossed my arms. "That's no fault of mine." I would rather smell of wood and grass and animals, not soap.
With a melodious laugh, she said, "Nonetheless." The music lulled, and she took Adar's arm. Together, they pushed open the door and swept toward the front. Walking in perfect step, they waved at their beloved people, smiles evident when the sides of their faces became visible.
The perfect couple. Well not perfect, no couple was actually perfect, but just perfect enough to make me look like a glorified mess.
Like a good son, I stepped out a few measures behind my parents. But instead of stepping in time to the music, like them, I tripped on my long robes and missed a beat. I had to scuffle to find my rhythm-stupid clothes. I squared my shoulders and raised my chin, not making eye contact with anyone, but sensing their judgmental stares.
They barely accepted Adar as King-they said he was too quiet, too calm, too easy to negotiate with. They sent Naneth disapproving glances when her back was turned, whispering how she should accept her husband's protection rather than training with the guards every morning.
But me, they didn't even mask their scorn. I was too wild, too unpredictable, too disinterested in politics.
For good enough reason.
I reached the front a moment after my parents and stood before them, my back to the audience. Naneth stood with her hands at her sides, wearing a graceful smile as real as the floor beneath my feet.
Adar stepped forward and addressed the gathered people. "Thank you all for coming. This has been a day Laegeth and I have been both excited for, and dreading. The day we call upon our only elfling to commit to the path we've chosen...and the eve of his becoming an ellon."
At least he didn't act as though he were bestowing some massive honor upon me.
Adar let his gaze rest on me, eyes warm, but ever a bit wary. "I know many of you doubt that Thranduil is suitable as an heir apparent. But let me assure you-not as a king, but as an ellon that knows his son-what Thranduil commits to do, he does wholeheartedly. Should anything happen to me, I would rest assured that I could not have left our people in better hands."
I swallowed hard. That, I was not expecting.
He motioned forward someone from the front row-Arastor, who carried a white gold circlet inlaid with a sapphire between his battle-scarred hands. Adar gave him a grateful nod and took the circlet. "Thranduil. Do you, as prince, vow to take these people as your own, to protect and serve by your every action?"
I stared at his boots, heart beating faster than usual. Did I? Should I? Personal dislike aside, could I fulfill Adar's expectations of me? Could I serve the Sindar and Silven elves in what capacity they required?
Adar raised one eyebrow a hairsbreadth-a silent question.
"I do," I blurted. Whether I could or not, I would. The weight of the commitment settled in the pit of my stomach, not apt to leave anytime soon by my reckoning.
His expression shifted, though only a little, enough. He was pleased with my choice-it shone through his eyes. "Then kneel, Thranduil Oropherion."
I sank to my knees, keeping my back straight and shoulders squared. As the cold circlet rested on my brow with surprising weight, I winced.
"Rise, Prince Thranduil of the Woodland Realm."
I stood, more an ellon than I had been when I knelt. At Adar's gesture, I turned to face the audience. Some began to cheer. Some gazed at me with sullen expressions. I found I could stand a little taller, and straightened to my full height, smoothing my face to mild boredom and glancing over the elves gathered.
That's when I saw her, hugging the stone wall near the front of the crowd, to my left. Perhaps twenty or twenty-five years younger than I, she watched me from behind a wave of dark hair, combed, but unbound.
Our eyes locked. Her one visible eyebrow lifted-her one visible blue eye widened. Then she ducked her head and darted toward the back, and out of sight.
I clenched my jaw and looked away, heat crawling up my neck. What a strange occurrence.
