The sound of laughter filled the halls of Thranduil. It was not uncommon for such noises to be gracing the halls and corridors. It had been two years since that faithful day in the woods where the young Prince Legolas took his first steps. He now toddled with great confidence about the halls and it was his older siblings' favorite game to chase and tickle him. Legolas would run screaming and giggling through the halls as fast as his short two year old legs would carry him. At the moment, he was being chased by his sister Lessien about the throne room. His older brother Lenwë hid between their father's throne and their mother's, waiting for the little elfling to come close enough to grab. Legolas scrambled up the few steps of the dais, and giggling loudly ran past the four thrones. Lenwë and Lessien had received their own, smaller thrones on the day that Legolas took his first steps. They now were permitted to sit with their parents on days of court.
As Legolas scrambled past Lenwë's throne, set to the right of his father's, his older brother lay in wait, just a few more of those wobbly toddler steps and he would have his little brother. He was about to reach out and grab his little brother when a booming voice stopped all motion in the room.
"What is going on in here?" Thranduil had been passing by the throne room when he heard his youngest son's shrieks and peels of laughter from his daughter. He glared at his daughter and his eldest son who was slowly rising from between the two thrones. Both the older children's faces were beat red, looking down at their feet. "Why are you not studying with your tutors? And why is Legolas out of the nursery?"
"Our tutors are so boring Ada! And Legolas was driving the nanny crazy..." Thranduil stared at his daughter as she attempted to make up some excuse for the ruckus that they had been causing. He turned to his eldest son, waiting for an explanation.
"We're sorry, Ada. We should not have left our tutors." He did not make any excuses, just simply apologized for the fact that they were not where they were supposed to be. While they had been discussing this, Legolas managed to tumble down the few steps of the dais, and with the resilience of a two-year-old, toddled up to his father. Gently tugging on his father's long tunic, Legolas reached his arms up to his father, a sweet smile on his young face.
Thranduil could hardly deny the elfling, bending down to pick him up and settling him on his hip. Legolas beamed at his father and then wrapped his chubby arms around the king's neck. Lenwë had now come to stand beside his sister, still not looking his father in the eye.
"You both will return to your lessons, and will apologize to your tutors for leaving. To be certain that this does not happen again, Lessien, you will have a month of kitchen duties, starting tonight." Lenwë laughed at his sister's misfortune. She hated working in the kitchens. "I would not be laughing if I were you Lenwë." His father looked sternly down on his eldest child. "You will double the time spent on your weapons training and you will sit with your mother and me on Trial days for two months."
Lenwë's smile quickly faded. Though he would enjoy the increased time spent on weapons training, he absolutely hated Trial days. These were the days when citizens of the Woodland Realm could come to the Hall and present problems to the king and queen for a solution. Often times it was simply a matter of coming up with a compromise, but the days were long and some of the arguments were very petty.
"Someday, my son, you will be king. It is time you begin to learn just what it means to be king. And you, my son," Thranduil said, turning his head to address his youngest in his arms, "are going back to the nursery, where you will behave for the nanny." With one last look at he elder children, Thranduil saw them scurrying back to their tutors; he left the throne room and headed in the direction of the nursery.
He had almost reached the nursery, Legolas having fallen asleep in his arms, when a horn blast sounded through the halls. It was no ordinary call, but one for desperate help. The nanny had appeared at the doorway to the nursery, curious as to what was going on. Thranduil quickly but gently handed off his son to the baffled looking elf and then hurried out to the where the sentries were gathered.
"My Lord, we are under attack! Orcs have made their way across the northern and western boarders. The messenger just arrived with news." The captain of the palace guard informed the king. He quickly led Thranduil through the halls to where a very exhausted looking elf was being given immediate first aid before being taken to the Healing Hall. The elf was young, perhaps only three hundred and fifty years old, though to the human eye, he would appear only twenty. There was an orc arrow lodged deeply into his left shoulder and he bore cuts and gashes of various sizes all over his body. He was in no immediate danger unless the arrow was poisoned.
"What happened?" Thranduil knelt next to the messenger whose breathing was becoming labored. He lay a gentle hand on the elf's forehead, giving him some temporary relief from the pain so that he could explain what had transpired.
"They ambushed us from the north... a group of three hundred or so..." the elf winced in pain. Blood was slowly seeping through the bandage that had temporarily been placed on the wound. Thranduil again sent a small amount of healing power to the elf, hoping that there was more the messenger could tell him.
"How many?"
"Three hundred, my Lord... with more on the way..." The messenger's voice was losing its strength. Thranduil saw this and nodded to the two elves at his side to take the messenger to the Healing Hall. He then stood and looked at the warrior elves standing ready to protect their home and their king. Mirkwood was home to hundreds of Sindarin or Wood Elves. There were approximately two hundred elves living in the palace. Three hundred or more elves lived in small communities surrounding the Hall and throughout Mirkwood's Forest. Thranduil turned to his captain of the guard.
"Golradir, send patrols out to as many of the settlements as possible and bring all of the elves back here. Call together as many warriors as you can spare. We ride North West within the hour." Thranduil then turned and walked back into the hall. His thoughts were on the upcoming battle as he made his way up to the council room. On his way he passed by Lenwë and Lessien's lesson rooms. He paused long enough to poke his head in.
"Fëanáro, Huor, lessons are canceled, report to Golradir as soon as you finish here. Lenwë and Lessien, go find your mother. Lenwë, tell her that the settlements are coming here. You and your sister are to help her prepare for their coming." Thranduil left quickly then, his mind thinking of the numbers and the odds of battle.
Lenwë and Lessien looked at each other, then up at their tutors. They had already begun to pack up the schooling supplies.
"You heard your father," Huor said. "Go find you mother, and hurry." He handed a pile of books to Fëanáro then turned and picked up the quiver and bow that always sat in the far corner of the room. He then turned and headed for the door.
"You'll be alright Fëanáro?" Lessien asked. This was the first time that there had been any kind of war or aggressive action in the Greenwood Realm in a millennium. She and her brother had never seen any kind of war or violence other than regular boarder patrol skirmish.
Fëanáro looked back at the princess. He could see that both she and the crown prince were worried. Violence was making itself present in their peaceful world for the first time in their young elf lives. He knelt in front of the princess so that he was level with her.
"Yes, Princess Lessien, I will be alright."
"That's right, Princess Lessien; Fëanáro is one of the best warriors in the Greenwood realm." Huor also came to kneel beside Lessien and Lenwë, who had come to stand beside his younger sister. "Now, you both had better go find your mother."
Lenwë nodded and took his sister's hand. They hurried through the corridors dodging around elves that were making their way outside to report to Golradir. After about ten minuets of searching, they found the queen in one of the studies. Eáránë was looking through scrolls and books and talking quietly to the steward, Anaranë. Both women looked up when the children came in.
"Father said to tell you that the settlements are coming here." Lenwë delivered the message then both he and his sister hurried to their mother's side. Eáránë hugged her daughter and son, seeing that they both where troubled by the events that were taking place.
"I'll go and check these numbers, my Lady." Anaranë curtsied to the queen and prince and princess and then left the family to themselves. She was more than able to prepare for the huge influx of elves that would shortly be arriving, fleeing the orc raids.
Eáránë, having comforted her children, held them each at arm's length to see them more clearly. There was not much that she could do for them. They were scared, yes, but, having heard of the trouble brewing in the west even more; this was going to become more common.
"Well now, we have a lot of things to do to be prepared for our guests. Lenwë, I want you to go down to the stables and help the stable master. He's going to need it with all the warriors going out and refugees coming in. Lessien, I want you to the Healing Hall and help them to prepare. Many who will be coming will most likely be in need of medical attention. Report to Mistress Linwë. Both of you are to listen to your elders. If they tell you to do something, do it, no questions asked. Do you understand me?" She didn't want to scare her children, but Eáránë needed to impress on them the importance of the situation. There was a good possibility that the orcs could make it this far into Mirkwood. She prayed to the Valiar that it wouldn't come to that, but they needed to be ready if it did.
Legolas played with the wooden animals that his mother had given for him when she and his father had presented Lenwë and Lessien with their own thrones. They were very old, having been giving to mother by her father when she was a little elfling. He was quite content to weave fascinating stories about their lives and adventures that they would take in the way only a young child can. He did not pay much attention to the nanny who would, every so often, look out the door, asking questions of those who were hurrying past. His Ada had told him to stay here, and as much as he wanted to be outside under the thick canopy of branches, he would obey his father. He did not like it when Thranduil was angry with him. He loved both his parents, and his brother and sister, who played with him as often as they could.
Seeing that the young prince was occupied for the time being, Náriël, Legolas's appointed nanny, stepped outside. She needed to find out what was going on. Her husband, Huor, was the Princess's personal tutor, but also a valued member of the king's guard. If the warriors were being called out, she wanted to say goodbye before they left. With one more glance back at the young prince, she quickly hurried down the hall. She wouldn't be gone long, but she simply had to see her husband before he left.
Thranduil swept up onto his large black stallion with ease. He rode out to the gaits of the hall, riding to the head of the column of elves that fight with him. Golradir had managed to muster somewhere around two hundred and fifty warriors from those living in the hall and those fleeing the orc invaders. There were some warriors with horses, but most of the elves would travel by foot. Though he knew that they would be able to keep up, for the most part, Thranduil still worried that they might not be able to reach the furthest settlement in time.
"Elves of Greenwood! You have been called to fight and protect our home. Western filth had invaded our northern and western boarders and destroyed our northern most settlements. Ride with me for the freedom of our forest!" Upon Thranduil's last words, his stallion reared high, and then he galloped through the gaits, the handful of horsemen following close behind. Golradir set the footmen out at a pace not all that short of a run, as the silently followed their leader and king.
It was not long after the departure of the warriors that the first of the refugee families began to appear at the hall's outer most gaits. They were welcomed in warmly and quickly ushered inside. The wounded were escorted to the Healing hall and others were served a hot meal and settled in the great hall. Many were comforted by the fact that the royal family of Greenwood was seen about the hall, working just as hard everyone else. Lenwë promised to take good care of the gentle pack horses that had faithfully carried their owners to the safety of the hall, and Lessien was given charge of the orphaned children who had been brought in by neighbors. She was doing a marvelous job of keeping the younger elves occupied and comforted while their parents and guardians were being treated for their wounds. The queen herself was helping to disturbed the meals to those well enough to take some nourishment and always offered a kind word to those who were despairing at the loss of a loved one. Many elves would fade within the next few days as word was brought back by messengers.
Lurking in the dark of the trees, a band of orcs who has slipped past the elven defenses quietly made their way closer to Thranduil's hall. Sentries were killed before they could sound the alarm, therefore giving the orcs the element of surprise. Among the filthy rabble brought up by Sauron, were men from south, their hearts as black as the dark lord's. Being more nimble, the quickly entered the hall through the few windows and balconies that were open, surprising the occupants inside. It didn't take long before the Hall realized that they were under attack.
While they children severely wounded elves were hidden in secret compartments throughout the hall, what remaining weapons were passed around to all those who could possibly fight. The battle was bloody and many more elves fell than orcs and men. The sound of metal upon metal and the cries of the dying filled the air.
"Hey! You two, go in that window, come round through the hall and meet me round the corner."
Legolas looked up at the unfamiliar voice and language. He did not understand what was being said. Curious, he toddled over closer to the window. He was about to look out when two large men broke through. Scared and startled, Legolas let out a terrified cry. One of the men looked down to see who or what had mad the noise. He raised his sword, ready to strike down the young elf when his partner stopped him.
"No...I'll take care of him... Go meet the others."
The one who had raised the sword looked at his partner, and nodded, quickly leaving the nursery to continue the attack from another angle. The man who had stayed his partner's sword knelt down before the screaming elfling. It was not policy to take prisoners, but there always were some exceptions. His wife had just lost their third child in birth and he had two young sons at home. Sheathing his weapons the man reached out and picked up the small elf.
Legolas, confused and very scared screamed even louder as the man picked him up. He struggled and wiggled with all his might, wanting desperately to be with his Ada or Nana. This stranger was no elf, and he smelt of dirt and blood. Kicking and waving his arms, Legolas protested as much as possible hoping that someone would come and save him.
Growing tired of trying to hold the squirming youngster, the man set the elf down then began to look about the nursery, keeping hold of one of his hands. If elves were anything like humans they would keep some kind of sleep potion for their young ones close by. Most certainly they had too much energy for their own good sometimes. Recognizing a small vile on a high shelf, the man took it down and uncorked it. Cautiously he sniffed the contents. Yup, that was it. Looking around he found small cup. Putting a few drops of liquid in the cup from the vile, he then filled the cup the rest of the way with water from his water skin. He then presented the cup to the little elf, urging him to drink.
The moment Legolas was put down his legs were running. But unfortunately he didn't get very far. He struggled and pulled at the man's hand that still encircled his own small one. Legolas was skeptical when he picked up the sleep bottle that the nanny always gave him before bed. It wasn't time to sleep and his nanny was nowhere in sight. When the man presented him with the cup, Legolas turned up his nose and faced the other way, trying at all costs to avoid taking the sleep potion.
Seeing that he wouldn't take it willingly, the man knelt down next to the little elf and pulled him close. Wrapping his arm around the small body, he gently pinched the small nose and poured the potion into his mouth, forcing it closed so the child would have to swallow. Though the younger put up a valiant effort, his need for air soon forced him to swallow most of the drink. It didn't take long for the potion to take effect. Within a matter of minuets, the elf was sound asleep, and would most likely remain that way for a few days, considering the large dosage that the man had given him. Slinging the now unconscious form of the toddler up onto his back, the man made his way out of the window and back through the forest.
Almost twenty four hours after Thranduil left his hall he and a small band of elves slowly returned. They had defeated the band of orcs who had threatened their forest and their families, and now were anxious to be home. As they neared the hall, sounds of battle reached the king's delicate elven ears. Without a word Thranduil spurred his exhausted mount forward, reaching the edges of the battle that was being fought from the inside out. It didn't take long for them to destroy what remained of the men and orcs, ending the bloody battle that had threatened many lives.
Thranduil called out franticly for his wife and children, praying to the Valiar that none of them were harmed. Lenwë was the first to appear, hay and straw covered his clothing. The stable master had forced him to hide in the loft when the orcs began to invade the hall, knowing that if the future king was wounded under his watch he would never hear the end of it. Lenwë ran to his father, practically knocking him over. Thranduil hugged his son, grateful that he was safe and well. Lessien was not far behind her brother. She had been helping to usher the children out of the secret compartment below the floor when she heard her father's shout. Without a word to anyone, she ran as fast as her legs would carry her to her father, overjoyed to see that Lenwë was already with him. Hugging his daughter, Thranduil looked about for his wife and youngest son, still seeing no sign of them.
Eáránë came into the hall, following the sound of her beloved husband's voice. There was a large gash on her left cheek and she clutched her side where a knife had slipped past her defense. She made it halfway to where her family was standing before her strength gave out.
Thranduil, seeing his wife, let go of his children and hurried to meet her. He let out a cry of despair as she collapsed to the ground, shouting for a healer. He was quickly at her side cradling her light form in his arms. A healer ran to where the queen lay and quickly began to assess the damage.
"She's exhausted, my Lord. It's naught but a small side wound. I don't see any sign of poison, so I think she'll be alright... She just needs to rest." The healer quickly patched up the gash in Eáránë's side and put a small bandage on her forehead.
Covering his wife's sleeping form with his cloak, Thranduil then stood, his eyes searching for his youngest son. In the midst of all the elves running about, trying to help the wounded, and calm the grieving, he saw Náriël, Legolas's nanny. Hurrying to her, Thranduil demanded to see his son. Náriël looked at him with wide eyes as her mouth dropped open.
"I haven't seen him my Lord," she said, her voice shaking with fear.
"What do you mean you 'haven't seen him'?! He was to be in your charge!!" Thranduil roared. Leaving the elf gaping he charged through the halls to the nursery.
"Legolas? It's alright to come out now, dear heart. Ada's here. Legolas?" Thranduil looked about the nursery, despairing at what he saw. The window was broken from the outside in. There were tracks of men, one leaving the nursery through the door, the other going back out the window. After searching in all the closets and under all the furniture, Thranduil dropped to his knees in the center of the room and let out a heart wrenching cry.
Eáránë, awoken by her husband's cry soon appeared in the doorway. She took at her husband and asked, "Where is my son?"
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