Chapter Text
The wind whispered softly through the treetops of Mirkwood. Leaves swirled through the air, and branches groaned ominously under the wind’s caressing touch. The rays of the setting sun struggled in vain to pierce the dense canopy. A single sunlit patch was a rare wonder among the old, gnarled trees. Darkness and cold stretched through almost the entire forest, hiding all kinds of eerie creatures lurking in the undergrowth.
The young Elven woman making her way through the forest was well aware of this. She only wanted to return to her family. It was the first time in a long while that she had completed a mission on her own. On her way back, she had decided to take a shortcut that led partially through Mirkwood.
She hadn't realized how much of a place of fear and dread the forest had become when she had guided her horse onto the old path. She simply wanted to save herself a day’s ride, and so she had made this reckless decision.
It had taken barely five minutes before her old farm horse had been startled by a shadow. Before she could react, the animal had thrown her off and galloped away at full speed.
And now, she was alone in the middle of the forest. A forest she should never have entered. She had lost track of time. Had she been here for days? Hours? Or merely minutes? Stressed, she brushed a blonde strand of hair from her face. Where had that cursed path gone? Struggling, she climbed over a fallen tree trunk, only to freeze in place. Hadn’t she already climbed over this tree before? Frustrated, she sank onto the trunk. It was only a matter of time before something attacked her.
Her bow had, unfortunately, been strapped to the saddle. All she had was a small dagger to defend herself—one that wouldn’t do much good if a horde of spiders came for her. But the worst part of her situation? No one would truly care. To her parents, she was nothing more than an inconvenience, and she had no real friends.
She had once had a friend, but that was a long time ago.
With a sad sigh, she let her gaze drop to her dress. The dark green fabric was torn and covered in dirt at the hem, no surprise given the branches and thorns she had snagged on. Things couldn’t get much worse. Her feet were covered in blisters, and her stomach loudly reminded her that she should find something to eat.
A single beam of sunlight caught her attention for a moment. A tired smile flitted across her face before she pushed herself off the tree trunk and continued walking. Maybe there was still hope—if even the sun could find a way through the canopy, perhaps she could find a way out too.
She froze mid-step. Was she imagining it? That sound… It wasn’t just the wind rustling the leaves. It was the sound of rushing water.
Quickly, she climbed over a massive root. If she followed the sound, she had a chance. Elves lived along the river. This was her chance to get out of the forest. She just had to follow the current, and everything would be fine.
She forced herself to ignore the hopeful feeling swelling in her chest. She would make it home.
Her pace quickened until she was nearly running. The louder the river’s rush became, the lighter the forest grew. The tree crowns were no longer so dense, and the setting sun found its way through the branches. Hastily, she climbed over more roots and eventually found herself standing before a great stone bridge.
Her breath caught.
She knew exactly where she was—and, more importantly, whose kingdom this was.
A lump formed in her throat as she weighed her next step. She had found the river, and there was a high chance she could escape the forest by following the current. But things could also go terribly wrong. The sun was about to vanish beyond the horizon, and she didn’t want to risk traveling the forest at night.
There were places where she wouldn’t be able to walk directly along the riverbank—she would have to stray from it. And if she got lost then, she would be truly doomed.
Nervously, she stared at the great stone gate at the other end of the bridge. Almost at the same moment, her stomach growled loudly.
Uncertainly, she shifted her weight from foot to foot. She could at least ask if her assumption was correct.
Hesitantly, she moved forward. The closer she got to the gate, the slower she walked.
It was a mistake to even consider knocking—why was she doing this?
She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat only grew, choking off her breath with every step. Her breathing had quickened as she let her gaze wander over the towering stone pillars. Compared to them, she was a mere speck—small and powerless.
Far too soon, she reached the great stone gate. Her hand trembled as she slowly placed it against the cool surface.
Gingerly, she traced the intricate waves carved into the stone.
Why in the world was she standing here?
Everything in her screamed at her to turn around and leave.
And yet, she mechanically clenched her hand into a fist and knocked softly on the gate.
In her fear, she had managed to strike one of the elaborate carvings. With a sharp inhale, she yanked her hand back. That had been a mistake. She regretted it the very second she did it.
Though her knock had been soft, she could hear the sound echo through the halls beyond the gate.
She could only hope it hadn’t reached the throne room—otherwise, she really had a problem.
With a loud creak, the gate opened, and two soldiers stared down at the young Elf. Intruders were not welcome here, though this Elf didn’t seem much of a threat. From the looks of her, she had wandered through Mirkwood for quite some time.
Her blonde hair was tangled with leaves and dirt, and what had once been a dress was now nothing more than a tattered rag.
Could she be one of them?
Automatically, the guards drew their swords, holding them at her throat.
"What is your purpose here?!" The taller of the two spoke.
She looked different—perhaps she wasn’t one of the ones they worked so hard to keep out.
"I only want to know the quickest way out of Mirkwood. I didn’t mean to intrude on the Woodland Realm," the Elf murmured, trying to keep her voice steady.
The guards exchanged glances, and though their faces were almost completely obscured by their helmets, she could tell they were suppressing laughter.
This foolish woman had no idea.
"The path through Mirkwood is difficult to find. Without a guide, you will not be able to follow it."
"And if I follow the river?"
Again, the soldiers scrutinized her.
She wasn’t exactly quick-witted.
"If you follow the river, you will come to a great cliff. From there, the path ends."
She could feel their eyes burning into her.
And she already knew what they were going to say before they even spoke.
"Please seek an audience with the king. As an elf who has entered the Woodland Realm, it is your duty." The shorter of the two soldiers gave the elf a firm look, stepped aside, and pointed his sword towards the castle’s interior.
The flash of panic that flickered through her eyes in that moment did not go unnoticed. She could not enter that castle.
"No, that's not necessary. I can manage on my own. Surely there is another way? I don’t want to cause any trouble!" Her attempt to avoid the inevitable only earned her suspicious glances from the soldiers.
"It is your duty, and it is our duty to ensure that you fulfill it." The gesture to enter was now even more insistent. She had no other choice—if she refused, they would force her.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she slowly stepped through the gate. She was digging her own grave. Why had she chosen to take this shortcut?
Within seconds, she was flanked by the two soldiers. The taller one walked ahead, guiding her down the path she had walked far too many times before. The other walked behind her, ensuring she did not attempt to flee.
Slowly, the elf walked between them across the wooden bridge. She knew exactly where it led.
Lost in thought, she didn't notice how close she had already come to the throne room until the soldier in front of her spoke.
"Your Majesty, this foreign elf has just knocked on our gates."
Careful not to make any mistakes, the soldier took a step aside, keeping his head bowed. It had never been wise to regard the king as anything less than supreme. The mere presence of the king filled the room with a silent fear.
The soldier’s movement allowed the elf an unobstructed view of the figure seated on the throne.
The lump in her throat had doubled in size, and all her swallowing did nothing to rid her of it.
His long blond hair cascaded over his shoulders, not a single strand out of place nor caught in his crown of leaves and twigs. His silver cloak draped elegantly across the entirety of his throne, and his gaze remained fixed on the goblet of wine in his hand.
When the soldier addressed him, he slowly turned his attention to the two guards and the elf, who was nearly swallowed by the shadows of the throne hall.
With piercing eyes, he studied what little of her he could see through the darkness.
A cold shiver ran down her spine as she felt his gaze burn against her skin. His icy blue eyes seemed to look right into her soul.
He must know who she was.
This was her downfall.
"What does the elf seek in my kingdom? Step forward."
He could not see her properly while she remained in the shadows. But he *wanted* to. Something told him that he knew this elf.
Intimidated, she stepped forward, keeping her gaze fixed on the stone floor.
She desperately hoped he had forgotten her.
"Nothing… I only wished to ask for directions to my family."
Her voice betrayed her nervousness.
That was nothing new to the king. Most who knew him feared him, and he found it utterly tedious.
Slowly, he leaned forward, studying the elf before his throne.
Her face, her stature, her long, white-blond hair—he *knew* her.
If she was who he thought she was…
For a long while, he simply stared at her.
His relentless gaze eventually forced her to lift her head and meet his eyes.
She could feel it—he had recognized her.
They stared at each other in silence.
She could read nothing from his face.
What was he thinking?
When he rose and stepped down a few stairs, she flinched.
He was going to drive a sword straight into her heart.
But against her expectations, he stopped on the next step.
"Your face is familiar to me. What is your name?"
His voice was calm. *Too* calm.
She could swear there was a volcano of fury simmering beneath his composed exterior.
But if he was asking for her name, then he was not yet certain who she was.
An uncomfortable silence filled the space as she tried to avoid his question.
If she spoke her name, she would only confirm the suspicion he clearly already had.
No matter how hard she tried to find an escape, there was none.
She could only hope that he knew another elf with the same name.
"I am Naira. May I continue my journey? I did not mean to disturb you."
At the sound of her name, a crease briefly formed on the king’s forehead.
So it *was* her—after all these years.
"Naira? Naira…! I know you. You lived here once, back when my father was king!"
His gaze bore into her like tiny daggers.
After all this time, she had simply reappeared.
"It is too late to return to the forest now," the taller soldier cautiously noted, gripping his sword uneasily.
"You may stay here until daylight."
The king extended the offer before descending the final steps, stopping right in front of her.
"But I—"
The king’s cold stare silenced her.
She had no choice but to stay the night.
Unless, of course, she wished to challenge death.
"O… okay, but only if it is no trouble," she murmured uncertainly, avoiding his piercing gaze.
"Do you remember me?"
His voice was icy now.
How could she possibly be standing before him after all these years, as if nothing had happened?
"Yes, I remember you. You are Thranduil, once the prince of the Woodland Realm—now its king," she whispered, still staring at the floor.
He would not simply let her go.
And that realization made her fear escalate with every passing second.
Thranduil’s cold stare did not waver.
So, she *did* know who he was.
He exhaled briefly before speaking again.
It was too soon for anger.
He would give her a chance to explain herself.
"Are you not surprised that I took the throne after all?"
She didn’t even seem interested in what had happened to him over the years.
The anger that had smoldered inside him since that time resurfaced.
"Well… I suppose you had no other choice."
Before he could draw her into more conversation, she turned to the soldier on her right and asked for a room where she could sleep.
To her surprise, Thranduil let her go.
With a relieved sigh, Naira collapsed onto the bed in her chambers.
Even though she had failed to avoid him, he had still allowed her to stay.
He had even *offered* her a place to sleep.
That was better than she had expected.
For a long while, Naira lay on the bed, staring at the stone ceiling.
Then, the blaring sound of the trumpets echoed through the palace.
Interesting. They had still not changed that tradition.
With a quiet sigh, she pulled herself up and peered out the door before stepping into the hallway.
The trumpets had always been a signal for meals, and given that her stomach had been growling for the past half hour, Naira welcomed the distraction.
Cautiously, she made her way to the dining hall.
Upon arriving, she slowly stepped inside, scanning the table.
There was only one empty seat left.
Directly beside the king.
With a small cough, she drew his attention.
"Would it be alright if I dined with you?"
His head snapped up the moment he heard her voice.
With a short nod, he gestured for her to sit.
He watched her every step closely.
She had changed.
The Naira sitting beside him now was nothing like the one he had once known.
She had allowed the world to break her.
She would never have allowed that before.
"You have changed, Naira. You used to be bold and defiant," he remarked, eating slowly.
He would get her to lower her guard.
He had to know—why had she never reached out to him?
They had once been inseparable.