Prologue
The trees rustled as the wind blew through the trees. Not a noise was to be heard except that of the horses as they walked down the paths their masters guided them to go on. They were elves and though some could be temperamental, in general they were very good natured, yet still with a small streak of arrogance. The elf in the lead rode upon a silver coated stallion, his posture was of regal demeanor and he wore a crown of leaves and twigs, a symbol that he was king.
'My lord? Shall we give up the search for the orcs?" One Elf spoke.
"Nay! We continue on." The elf lord replied, for their mission was most urgent, as they hoped to find a pack of orcs. Beorn had warned the king a few days ago that the pack was close to their borders. The king of Greenwood feared they were too late.
As the band of elves traveled farther, they came to the edge of the Elven path. The elf lord stopped his mount. Only trees with slash marks and some black smears, with shredded grass and dirt covered the ground. Not an orc in sight. But that seemed impossible; he had heard Beorn say there were at least fifty orcs marching on his wood. This was a mystery he would have to discover alone. And when the king wanted to find answers, he wished to do it alone, in peace.
"Go back to the palace. I wish to journey a bit father. I shall return soon enough." The king ordered. He did not bother to look to his fellow elves as a way to show them that were to simply do as he asked, no questions permitted.
In respect, the riders bowed their head. Soon they had gone, only the king remained. Confirming that he was alone, he rode onward. His horse paused, smelling the air by curling his upper lip. With a small whicker the horse turned and trotted off to the left. The king called softly for his mount to slow but the creature went on faster. Soon the slender stallion halted, almost throwing the king out of his saddle. The smell hit the king first before the image before him. A smell of blood and the heat of battle still lingering in the air. Before him at least thirty to forty feet away laid a pile of orcs. Every single foul beast slain. This puzzled the king. Surely no elf could have done this? Orders were always to burn the bodies lest the forest smell like rotting orc.
Dismounting and drawing his sword the king walked over to the fallen enemies. Without touching them he managed to see that some of the creatures had been killed with a blow to the throat, supposedly with a dagger, others with arrows, which were sticking out of their bodies. Something rustled in the brush. Freezing the king gripped his sword tightly. Counting to four he swung about and came face to face with nothing. Irritation gripped his shoulders. Sheathing the sword he walked back to his horse and prepared to mound when the horse reared in fright. Turning about, the king came face to face with an orc bearing a club studded with spikes, raised as it ran towards him. The king had no time to unsheathed a weapon for the orc was apon his prey in seconds. Shutting his eyes the king awaited his death.
But it never came.
Opening one eye he saw the orc standing there with a shocked look upon its ugly face. An arrow stuck out of its head, a moment later fell to the ground. Opening both his eyes, the king looked around, eyes searching for the one who helped him. They had saved his life. But no one was there once again.
"Hello?" he called out. "I know you are out there..."
Only the wind answered by brushing the leaves together. But the King of Greenwood would not give up yet.
"I mean no harm or insult...I only wanted to thank you.......Thank you they who hides in the shadows...thank you for saving my life! You have don't the king of Greenwood a great favor...not only him but his kingdom...Will you show yourself so that I can thank you face to face?"
He waited once more.
Still no answer.
"May the Valar be with you oh silent one! May our paths meet one day."
As he mounted his horse a flock of birds flew out of the trees, singing joyfully. A smile tugged on his lips. Perhaps the silent one had heard him and was moving on. Whoever it was he silently thanked them once more then rode back to the castle.
After having his horse cared for the king made his way back to the palace. Pausing, he watched as a group of archers jogged to their next post on the borders. For a moment he wished his son was amongst them. His son was a prince worthy to rule the kingdom yet still with many lessons to learn. An elfling with many ambitions and dreams combined with grace, bravery and skill.
"Oropher!" a familiar voice, belonging to his wife called out. Laughing, he turned and was embraced by his wife with a hug, breathing in her scent as he spun her around.
"I was worried about you my love, are those horrid orcs gone? "she inquired.
"Yes indeed. They have all been done for."
She smiled as she pushed a lock of his white hair from his face. " I praise the Valar you have come to tell me the news yourself."
The king frowned playfully. "Tell you the news myself? Now my dear, you could not have been worried that much. It was only a few orcs, not a whole army."
" I had faith that you were to return."
Oropher smiled, love in his eyes as he gazed apon his wife. " I am most pleased you had faith in me. I just wish my son however, had as much faith in me as you do. He –"
An arrow flew by the king's face, nearly missing his ear. It landed by the feet of the queen. The queen's eyes sparkled with laughter at her husbands shocked face. His son had caught him off guard yet again. And he knew his son was only trying to prove a point.
"I got you yet again Ada." Prince Thranduil said, landing right next to the queen. Fingering his bow he looked thoughtful. "How about we say, two for you and fifteen for me."
"We wouldn't have to keep score if you didn't try so hard Thranduil." His father stated calmly. "Instead of doing things, tell me what you want."
To this Prince Thranduil straitened with fierce annoyance. "I shouldn't have to tell you anything. You're my father, the King of Greenwood and you should remember how old your son is. You should know that by now I am of age. Im a prince, not a child."
His mother stepped in, gently placing her hands on her son's shoulders. "Thranduil, my son. We all forget about something sometimes."
Thranduil turned his grey eyes apon her." Aye. But can a king forget his own son? Or his family?" Shaking his mother's hands off his shoulders he gave his father a curt nod and walked off. Both his parents watched him go. Oropher knew his son was right, after all Thranduil was to become king in his stead.
Together the king and the queen ventured back to the place, talking about matters of small importance. Elegant bows and humble greetings were given as they ventured through the kingdom. Soon it was time for Oropher to return to his duties, so he took leave of his wife. She bade him goodbye with a loving kiss apon his cheek. Once returning to his study Oropher lead his thoughts back to the events of the day.
But really what was nagging his mind was the unknown helper that had saved his life. There had been no need to tell anyone of that happening since all in the end was alright. Yet still a thousand questions spun about his mind.
At the back of the tangle of questions a single thought came forth. Immediately Oropher tried to ignore it. It was absolutely impossible, there could be no way it would be true! Unless...it was to be truth.
Still, Oropher doubted. Quill raced across parchment as letters were answered. Papers shifted, books were opened and flipped through as work was accomplished. Still his mind was tormented by questions and memories, both painful and pleasant. Tales and stories flooding back from childhood, ones he had sat by a fire to hear, eagerly listening for thrilling conclusions. Soon it became a battle between truth and doubt in Oropher's mind.
And in the end the King yielded only a little. If it was to be true he could at least be open to the possibility if it being so. It just couldn't be believable.
That race was extremely rare.
And the last of its kind had died over three thousand years ago to a terrible fate.
A fate no one should ever wish apon a living creature, man or beast.
A fate worse than death.
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Greetings! I hope you felt the same chill I did as I wrote this. I hope this version will make a ton of more sense then the last rough draft. The plot will be very different yet all the same in many different ways. [that doesn't make sense] I hope all is well with you my friends!
May the Valar bless you!
Nin [Thella, Niniak blah blah blah]
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