"Lord Thranduil..."

The voice was deep and far away and mysterious, yet familiar, for unknown reasons. Consciousness wielded his sword at his brother unconsciousness who backed away from his victim and releasing his trap. The king who had fallen into the snare began to wake, returning to the air of reality.

Thranduil blinked his eyes weakly, still in schock from various injuries known and unknown. After the world stops its seemingly endless spinning, the kings gaze focused upon a familiar figure, a young elf.

"Eldrin...?" was all he could croak out from his parched lips.

A sigh of relief escaped Eldrin, at ease at last to hear and see his king awaken from his week-long state in which he had not moved. After waking from his own knockout Eldrin had summoned the Elvenkings elk and had the beast bear the king back to the Woodland halls. Thankfully both had arrived safe and sound to the halls and the healers were able to tend to Thranduil and stop the worst from happening, however all attempts to wake him to consciousness were in vain, for none of the healers could. But thankfully in due time, his Kingship awoke. However, parts of the story were still unknown to the king.

"What do you remember, King Thranduil?" Eldrin prompted as he stood on guard.

Pain shot through his temple as the bedridden king struggled to sit upright, into a more comfortable position. Nothing could he remember the pain so great he almost became unconscious again. Almost immediately, images swept past his eyes, elves dead, lying, bearing wounds unimaginable.

"Fire! "Thranduil gasped, eyes beginning to shed tears of both pain and sorrow. "Fire, slain elves, and...that thing...It was cruel, hitting both of us-"

Eldrin met the eyes of the king; those pale grey-blue eyes seemed to grasp a hold of him.

"Eldrin...Where is he?"

No answer could the young elf give, tears flowed from his eyes as he remembered finding the body of his former comrade. " D-dead.... Hissaelon is...de-ead.."

Silence entered the room, banning any sound. Both elves mourned the loss of Hissaelon, one who should not have been slain, one who should have returned to the halls of the King, fulfilling his orders. But fate chose otherwise, cruel and horrid.

"Did...did you find...out what –"

"What attacked you?" Eldrin finished the sentence quickly, earning an honest nod from the king. "You are not going to think this true, my Lord...it was a dragon."

Walking as fast as his legs could bear his body, the King of the Woodland Realm entered the stables, saddling his elk, and mounting, galloped out of the palace. Eldrin and many others of his halls had pleaded for him to rest, but in vain for the moment Thranduil heard the Word dragon he sought out to destroy the beast. Old enemies leave scars and tormenting nightmares we wish to destroy yet we cannot. The past refuses to be forgotten. Many years past, Thranduil faced the Great Serpents of the North, receiving the worst of all his injuries. Dragons became his worst enemy ever since those days. Now he was to be faced by another brute beast?? Indeed he would kill it this time.

The wind blew fiercely; the scent of dragon entered the elks nostrils, causing terror to enter its heart. A loud brawl erupted from the creature and with eyes wide and escape within its mind the elk ran at a full gallop. Leaping over a fallen and burnt tree the elk tripped as he landed his leap, throwing the king off and as soon as his burden was gone, Thranduil was alone. Cursing his nervous elk, the noble elf searched for the dragon.

Something stirred behind him. Turning about the king came face to face with the creature he had hunted. Its eyes were mournful, the creatures labored breath told him the creature was dying. Knees weak, he attempted to escape, a cowardly move. But scaled serpents are clever and fear is easy for them to smell. Into the face of the King the Dragon let out a roar, so deafening the world quaked with the sound.

"Mm...You. Fear me!" the voice was a deep female voice, powerful and demanding submission. Every part of Thranduil trembled in fear. "And you...have you come to kill....me ?!!?"

" If...if you ask..such a question..Why have you not killed me already?" a challenging reply, one that made laughter rumble deep in the throat of the serpent.

"You...you are different...A royal elf...A king!"

Dropping his sword, Thranduil realized nowhere in his heart could he kill such a beast, after all, the beast had already spared his life. A closer look showed blood dripping from many a wound, ones he knew his own people had inflicted.

"Why did you kill my men?" he plucked up the courage to ask.

" They attacked...First!!!" Snarled the dragon, eyes leaping of fire. " None of my intentions were to kill...but when one of your men tried to steal my offspring...it was hard not to release fury apon them!" Coughing the dragon turned away, the king cautiously following. There it sat. A silver and red stone...no egg.

"This is the last...of my offspring..." the dragoness whispered. " My line...would have ended...had this been destroyed."

"But your kin...they-"

"THEY ARE RUTHLESS GREEDY FOOLS!!! I DO NOT COMPPARE WITH Any...NOT ONE OF THEM..." pounding the ground with her paws and whipping about her spiked tail the dragon continued " TREASURE AND GOLD THEY WILL KILL FOR...BUT I VALUE LIFE...BUT IF LIFE I HAVE BRED AND GIVEN BIRTH FOR IS TAKEN...MEN AND ELVES AND THOSE WHO DARE WILL PERSIH!!!"

Thranduil understood. Life was precious, for his own wife, Lanika was with child and he would have done the same had someone tried to take his child. Bowing before the dragon he whispered forgiveness on behalf of his men.

Leveling her head to his own the dragon whispered softly. " My time here...is ended...I ask you take my child King of Elves and may great fortune...come apon you!"

Moments later, the dragon moved no more, the fire died in her eyes, a snarl of protection showing from her lips. Placing a gentle hand Thranduil closed his eyes, whispering a blessing. The stone moved, shivered and exploded in a silver mist, curling about the dragon child within.

The baby dragon cried pitifully. Thranduil scooped up the tiny creature and decided to name her.

" Your name shall be Sylvian."

The dragon smiled in a dragonish way and curled against his chest. Stroking the dragons smooth scales he fetched his sword and walked to the palace. He was not going to hide this.

It would be stupid to do so. For a dragon grows quick and they are clever....