15. The Forest Prince

I study the silver ring, snaking around the index finger of my right hand - this the correct place to put an elven engagement ring. Thranduil had been very perplexed when I tried to put it on the ring finger of my left hand. Though I was too busy sobbing and nodding incessantly, for him to think anything of it.

He had laughed in between happy tears and corrected my mistake without another word. He kissed me, and I practically assaulted him in return, knocking him to the ground in my passionate enthusiasm. We laughed and we kissed, and I cried some more like the incredibly composed creature that I am, until I was utterly spent. All my emotions just leaving me pleasantly numb.

Now I lie upon his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart and I know I am home. What I thought was impossible is now within my grasp; the love of another and the makings of my own family. My heart is finally open and for the first time in long years I am truly happy. I now know that contentment is possible. Still there is the fear of the future.

Oropher spoke of the dangers of the outside world, but for tonight they are not real. Here under the protection of the great wood, with a host of stars flooding this place in glittering hopeful light, I am not fearful and can dream of the happiness ahead. We lie like this for hours and drift in and out of peaceful dream states, it is not until the sky turns grey and the first of the birds begin to herald in dawn, do Thranduil and I make our way back into the sanctuary of the caves.

Thranduil leaves me to my chambers and with a chaste kiss he reminds me he will come by later in the morning with Legolas. We intend to take him out into the forest and spend some time with him; Thranduil wants to tell him today. He also will inform his father too, this left me feeling a little nauseous but he told me not to concern myself with it, he will handle that situation and I am quite happy to let him. Once alone in my chambers I take my time to bathe, and slowly put myself back together again after a grueling few weeks. I feel much better when I emerge from my room, clean, tidy, and reenergised. Oliel is the first to find me humming to myself in the garden, as I quietly sup a cup of sweet tea.

"Well everything must have played out quite well!" Oliel exclaims as she joins me with her own tea cup and gives me a delighted grin; "That smile on your face tells me all I need to know!"

"Not everything," I tease and let my gaze flit about the garden, I have no intentions of giving away my secret just yet.

"What do you mean?" She frowns and shuffles closer to me, suddenly wide eyed and curious. "Oh Clara what disgraceful behaviour did you pair get up to?" She titters and shakes her head in an all too obvious way.

"Well we did have some fun," I confess and slowly outstretch my right hand casually as if I am observing my nails; "but nothing that bad, I've told you before, he is frustratingly in control of himself."

"Then what are you being so coy about?" Oliel plonks her tea cup down and eyes me with a not so impressed look.

"Guess?" I grin at her dismayed expression.

"I do not know? Oh stop teasing me!" She cries and gives me a wide eyed pleading look, which melts my resolve.

"Oh I don't know," I sigh and bring my right hand up to my face to push a strand of my hair behind my ear. I catch how her eyes pop when she clocks the ring, "It really is not a big thing but-"

"CLARA!" Oliel shrieks at new record levels, she is so loud that I jump back several feet.

"Ow! My ear Ollie...my actual ear! Good grief I'm deaf!" I complain and note that yes indeed my ears are ringing.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" she chants, still at a high pitched keen, that I believe only dogs could hear; "Let me see!" Forcefully she yanks my right hand to her face and diligently examines the ring. I giggle at her mannerisms because quite frankly she learned this behaviour - and language - from me.

"Well do you approve?" I ask and patiently await her verdict.

"Oh Clara it is beautiful, and so perfect and you have no idea how long Aradan and I have been waiting on this! I cannot wait to tell him and Nana too, oh Clara, you and Thranduil must come to my home to show Naneth. It will make her so happy to see you two together, and tell me what is his ring like?"

"His ring?" I ask completely bemused.

"Yes, both the intended wear rings to signify their promise to one another, then these are exchanged whenever the decision is made to be unified and the marriage jewels are worn thereafter to show the couple are husband and wife." Oliel explains in a very matter of fact tone. "These rings are often much grander, one of kind pieces, depending on your social status will depend how magnificent they are...Clara...just think of the jewel Thranduil will have made for you!"

"You mean I have to get Thranduil a ring too?" I say with a shocked expression, "but I don't even know where to start looking."

"Oh he probably has one set aside, he will know that you don't understand the traditions," Oliel dismisses my concerns, "Thranduil is nothing but thorough, he would have not been so presumptuous as to wear his ring without your agreement."

"So I shouldn't worry?"

"No! Now come tell me everything, from the very beginning!"

So I start from the very beginning, the fallout from the feast, the heated exchange, being caught on by the King and the eventual proposal. Ollie is captivated and after I have finished all that, I make her divulge in detail her little rendezvous with Aradan. To my delight I find they are actually quite serious about each other, talk of the future has already cropped up between them, and I know seeing my ring has only made her more misty eyed. She is a die-hard romantic, and a whirlwind romance would be right up her street. She could not have fallen for a better elf; Aradan is so warm and loving and I am practically swooning for her. Happiness is everywhere, and I feel like my family is growing. I just find it wonderful that I get to have all these incredible beings in my life, and that we are all sharing in our joy. I foresee great things happening in the year ahead - spring shall bring hope and joy to us all!

xXx

"A horse? An actual proper sized horse?"

"Yes Clara, a proper horse!"

"Can I not just walk? I'm happy with walking."

Thranduil rolls his eyes and leaves me standing in the stable courtyard, which is built seamlessly into the mouth of the caves. Legolas is off chattering with one of the stable hands, a lanky youth with sandy hair. I smile adoringly at him he has the ability to make friends wherever he goes; people just gravitate towards him naturally. In fairness I think the stable boy is getting his ear bent with Legolas' onslaught of over curious questions, I can hear him from here with his usual list of enquiries; who are you, where are you from, what is your favourite horse and why? I swear he is impossible to satisfy, oh that poor lad!

I am suddenly distracted by the sound of the clip clop of heavy hooves on cobble stones, and jerk my head to watch Thranduil - with the help of another stable hand - lead two magnificent beasts into view. I swallow hard at the thought of clambering atop one of those freakishly tall and powerful looking animals. I groan when he grins at me with over excited eyes, then he takes the head collar of the slightly smaller of the two horses - a dappled grey beauty with gentle dark eyes - and presents him to me;

"This is Rochael," he declares and runs a sure hand down his neck, "Come, say hello."

I raise an eyebrow and blow out an uncertain sigh, but approach the creature with a healthy dose of respect;

"Mae g'ovannen Rochael," I murmur and tentatively stroke his great grey muzzle; "You are a beautiful boy aren't you."

"Rochael is a female Clara." Thranduil snorts back amused laughter and I scowl at him so he stops and clears his throat; "A very wise lady, who has many years of experience training new riders."

"Well I apologise Rochael, but this idiot didn't actually introduce you properly did he now?" I giggle and scratch her nose, her ears prick up and I give Thranduil a haughty nod; "The lady agrees, you're an idiot."

"I am not the one who has never ridden a horse, how did you ever get around before?" He grumbles and starts tacking up Rochael, and much to my complete horror I see no saddle.

"I walked, it was always safer if I walked or you know we drove...um...carriages," I reply with a roll of my eyes, I doubt Thranduil would understand the term car and I will not be the cause of blowing his head off his shoulders, with descriptions of magic metallic carriages that don't require horses to pull them along.

"Well you are learning, we do not house spoiled little elf ladies in Greenwood, our ellith know how to handle themselves on horseback!" He chortles and gets into position to give me a leg up. I comply but with much scrambling and squeaking, mercifully Rochael is indeed very patient. Once settled on her back with nothing more than a blanket and training reins to grip for balance, I watch Thranduil rather anxiously claim his own horse.

"Wait! Where are you going? What do I do if she walks off?"" I yelp and as if to prove my point Rochael shakes her head and takes a few steps forwards; "Whoa horsey...please please don't run off!" I whimper and grasp handfuls of her mane in my hands.

"Calm down, she will not move very far unless commanded to do so," Thranduil replies with a snigger at my alarmed expression, and then turns to call this son to him; "Quick Legolas before Clara faints in fear."

"I am not scared!" I snap, "I just don't know what I am doing!"

Legolas scurries towards us and his father catches him around the waist with ease and swings him atop the black as night beast that I assume as his own. With a grace and confidence that I clearly lack, Legolas shuffles forward on the horse and laces his tiny hands with its silky mane. He grins excitedly but clearly registers my complete discomfort, and frowns;

"Ada?" he asks and Thranduil glances at him; "If Clara is frightened I can ride with her."

This does nothing to help my dignity as my intended laughs rather loudly and shakes his head vigorously; "Yes Clara if you are that fearful I can have my little boy help you!"

"Thank you Legolas but I will be alright!" I snip and scowl at Thranduil; "At least he actually cares about my safety, unlike some!"

"You are right I am not concerned about your safety, because you are being over dramatic, you will be fine!" He reassures me and attaches a rein to Rochael's bridle which he loops around his forearm, then confidently leads us forward. In one fluid movement Thranduil leaps - yes leaps like a graceful deer - onto his horse behind Legolas. With one hand resting on the animal's neck, his arm unconsciously or strategically curved around his son, and his other hand controlling the reins of Rochael, he urges our little party on at a gentle amble.

For the longest time Thranduil keeps the pace slow and Rochael close to his own mount, whom is called Sirdal - for he is as swift as the river. He tells me Sirdal is a high spirited horse and when the day comes when I can ride a little better, he will show me just how fast he is. I eternally hope that day is far far away in the future! Although I am quite enjoying myself and my confidence is growing, to the point where I am even comfortable at a lively trot, so long as Thranduil remains completely in control of that leading rein!

Legolas keeps us entertained with chitter chatter and song, and his father indulges in his over imaginative and farfetched tales. This is quite a sight to behold, Thranduil is not often so silly or animated with his son but there are the odd occasions. Today is one of them, and well deserved no less, after what Legolas has had to witness in the past few days he is entitled to be made a fuss of and made to feel important.

So after a couple of hours of banter and the odd jibe at my poor equestrian skills, we finally reach what I presume to be our intended destination. A quiet glade surrounded by firs and brambles, there is a charming stream babbling through the middle of the glade practically cutting it in two. A lazy winter haze settles through the trees and clings to the sleeping earth like a soothing blanket, but there is life yet in the winter blooms and evergreen plants. In truth Greenwood is a dream, a constantly shifting landscape that changes to suit its mood or season. Some days it is bright with acid colours and deafening noise, other times it is docile and comforting, it's quiet heartbeat just thrumming along, and then there are days like these. Days were it is mysterious and silent, like it is hiding wondrous secrets in the very roots of the trees, secrets that it teases you with and makes no promises to tell.

"Clara?" Thranduil's amused voice shatters my daydream and I blink down at him. He has already dismounted and turned Sirdal out to graze.

"Hmm?" I just about reply as I dreamily watch the hazy billows, I feel his hands around my waist about to guide me off Rochael, so I causally turn my head to regard him.

"I love the whimsical look in your eyes when you daydream," he replies with a grin and with a little awkwardness he helps me dismount. With my feet firmly on the ground I am suddenly acutely aware of the fact that my butt is so incredibly numb, like dead, and I know I will pay heavily tomorrow morning for my horse riding antics.

Once Thranduil and I free Rochael of her burdens and set her free to go join her companion, we find Legolas who has, not surprising, found the muddiest and slipperiest part of the stream to play in. Already the knees of his leggings are streaked with mud, his boots splashed and there is a smear of dirt across his cheek where he has thoughtlessly scrubbed his face. He stops mid mud pie making to beam up at us with a look of complete joy, there is nothing he enjoys more than being a grubby little goblin.

Both Thranduil and I sigh in exasperation, and Legolas only ducks his head and peeps up at us with faux apologetic eyes. And it is in this moment that his father shrugs and flops down - rather ungracefully may I add - beside his son to join in the messy play. With a delighted smile I excitedly do the same thing, because I am what I am, an overgrown kid...or...err, elfling?

A few fun filled and messy hours later, the three of us recline on the blanket that had been used as my makeshift saddle; apparently elves have no need for tack and only retain it for teaching or for armour for their horses when in battle. Legolas lies with his blonde head on my tummy as he messily devours a slice of honey covered walnut bread, and I lie propped up against Thranduil's right shoulder whilst he in turn rests back on the broad trunk of an oak. Legolas is expertly sprawled between the two of us, his now bootless and sockless feet are elevated on his father's hip, and Thranduil indulges in several games of 'this little piggy,' which sends Legolas into the most infectious fits of laughter. I have to say the sight is so heart wrenchingly adorably that I have been grinning like a Cheshire cat all afternoon.

"Ada?" Legolas starts mid mouthful and sits up straighter.

"Legolas don't talk with your mouth full," I chide again for the umpteenth time in a row; I swear he will never get this. He gives me an apologetic grimace and swallows his half chewed food, I sigh and roll my eyes but it is indulgently I cannot be stern with him, not today at least.

"Is Grandpa angry at you and Clara because you are special friends?" He blurts out, not even waiting on his father to acknowledge the question. Thranduil gives me a side long glace, and I inhale sharply...I told him his son was far too observant!

"Special friends?" Thranduil queries whilst keeping his eyes trained on me, I am beginning to blush, it is happening, I can feel the scarlet hue starting in my neck and simmering all the way up to the tips of my ears.

"Yes, like Aradan and Ollie!" He replies with a nod, happy with his assessment, when both Thranduil and I frown in confusion he sighs and begins to elaborate; "Clara said that Aradan is Ollie's special friend because he is nearly always with her now, he gives her flowers and hugs her and says nice things about her. Well, you do that with Clara!"

Damn it, I did say that! I said that because I was joking around with Legolas one afternoon in the presence of said special friends, all in the form of friendly banter and wanting to see them squirm in embarrassment. Well that just came back to bite me hard on my already abused ass! However to my complete surprise Thranduil does not get flustered or lose the power of his speech like he usually does, instead he chuckles softly and ruffles Legolas' hair with his hand;

"You miss nothing Ionneg," he mutters and Legolas gives a sheepish grin; "Yes Clara and I are special friends, as you so wisely put it, and Grandpa is not angry he is just surprised."

"I bet Grandpa is surprised because you never make any new friends," Legolas replies with a roll of his eyes and I snigger loudly in response.

"Yes I assume so," Thranduil snorts with a less than impressed tone and eyes me threateningly, only encouraging my sniggering fit.

"But it is true!" Legolas looks to me with wide eyes, "Grandpa always says Ada is odd because he never talks to anyone anymore. Though I like it that you chose Clara as your friend, I told you she was nice, and I told Grandpa not to worry too because you had Clara now."

Thranduil raises his eyebrows at me and I do the same, though we keep this morsel of information to ourselves. It appears Legolas has been unwittingly telling Oropher all he needed to know to eventually put two and two together. The confrontation in the Throne room was not a coincidence, the King was biding his time, gathering evidence, and it would appear he has been on our trail for a little while now. Smart elf, smart father, I make a mental note to myself to learn these tactics, for someday I know I will be hunting down some young elleth who thinks she is good enough for my little prince.

"Well we have you to thank for that!" I say brightly and wrap my arms around him for a bear hug; he giggles and wriggles about until I free him. "I don't think your Ada and I would have been friends if it wasn't for you!"

"Oh I think we would have," Thranduil interjects and stretches over to push a strand of my tussled hair behind my ear. Legolas observes the exchange with a certain amount of curiosity; I can see the cogs in his mind turn as he considers our over familiarity. After a few moments of staring Legolas crawls over to his Adar and clambers onto his lap to eye him with an accusing look;

"You are looking at Clara funny!" He states and crosses him little arms about his chest, I suppress a chuckle because he looks so much like his father when he pulls an irritated face. Thranduil leans away slightly from his son's forceful glare, getting a taste of his own medicine for a change, and pulls a perplexed expression. "You look at Clara like the way the ladies that used to dance with you looked at you! Why?"

Oh so busted! Seriously the kid is sharp as a pin, those eyes could see to the horizon and beyond and everything in-between! Thranduil just about manages to keep the amused look from his expression, after all this is a serious observation on Legolas' part. He pauses for a moment to consider the best way to approach the topic, and I become very quiet. I never really paused to consider the other option; that Legolas may not be that keen on sharing his father with me, and that this might just upset the balance of his happy existence too much.

"You love Clara very much don't you?" Is Thranduil's sudden very strange question, and Legolas simply nods vigorously; "You have always kept an eye on her, kept her safe, and looked after her since she arrived here have you not?"

"Yes!" Legolas states quite confidently; "She is my-" he pauses for a moment and considers his answer; "Well she is very important, and better than any friend I have!"

Oh my heart it just exploded in my chest, I can feel tears gathering in my eyes and I want to butt in and tell Legolas he is very important to me too! From the moment I woke up in this strange world he has never left my side, and even when things got altogether too overwhelming for me, he was there giving me something to get out of bed for. I had to care for him, I had to be there, he kept me stable and sane. Hecwas the innocence that needed protected. There are no words or enough ways in which I can thank this child for what he has given me; love and a home would be just some of the things that come to mind. Thranduil regards me for a moment then smiles softly at my tear filled eyes, but returns his attention to his baffled son;

"Then it is you I must seek permission from?" He asks Legolas and the child pulls the same confused look I do. Thranduil chuckles softly and reaches across the space between us to take my hand before continuing; "Legolas I love Clara too, she means a great deal to me and, with your consent of course, I would like to make her part of our family."

There is the longest moment of silence and I instantly stop breathing, I study Legolas' expression, which for the most part remains confused. Then ever so slowly realization begins to creep into his young features and he regards us both with a wide eyed look;

"You want Clara to stay with us instead of Ollie?"Legolas queries and fidgets with his tunic.

"In time yes," is Thranduil's gentle reply.

"And she will be family?" He asks again and then narrows his eyes at his father; "like how?"

"Well," Thranduil starts a little more carefully this time, "Whenever the time is right I shall make Clara my wife."

This seems to stun Legolas for a moment, and I start to panic. Maybe this was too much for him; maybe it was a little soon? I am just about to open my mouth and start rambling in an attempt to rectify the situation, when Legolas turns to look at me with an awestruck expression that silences me. He crawls off his father's knee and comes to sit beside me, his big bright eyes never breaking their trance like stare. After a few moments he blinks and a very ecstatic grin is painted across his face, as he turns to his father;

"You have my permission!" He almost sings then throws his arms around me in a very enthusiastic hug, I return the embrace with just as much gusto and begin to laugh, completely relieved that he accepts this. Whislt locked in my arms he rests his head on my shoulder peacefully and whispers a quiet thank you.

"Thank you for what?" I mutter and pull back to give him an amused look.

"Not you silly!" Legolas giggles; "Iluvatar."

I have done enough studying to know he means their God, or their creator. The elves take this being very seriously; it even surprised me how reverential Thranduil appeared to hold this Iluvatar. I come from a world were spirituality is mocked or made only for the weak willed and lonely, yet here it is the exact opposite. Spirituality and the wisdom pertaining to such is a sign of growth and development, all things must be considered and weighed up under the guidance of the Valar. It is a mystery and a marvel to me, and someday I hope to actually understand it. I cannot doubt that there is something out there, frankly I am living proof, but even the trees and the earth...they praise something unseen. Legolas gathers my awestruck and thoughtful expression is due to his statement and thus elaborates;

"I prayed that the Valar would send me a Naneth," he states quite solemnly but a bright smile cracks through his features; "And they did, they sent me you!"

The tears from before reappear and I can barely contain my emotion, this is how he sees me and I truly do not deserve it but oh how it makes my heart sing. I am filled with a tidal wave of conflicting emotions, mostly love and a great deal of joy but also fear and panic. This is a level of responsibility that I have never experienced, but something I knew I would have to prepare myself for. I always knew that to love Thranduil was to love his son, it went hand in hand, and that ultimately agreeing to become his wife meant agreeing to accept Legolas as if he were my own child. But to hear how much faith this child has put in me nearly terrifies me, I cannot let him down now and the last thing I ever want to do is to shatter his trust. This bond is rare and I am fully aware of how blessed I am to have this boy's complete acceptance and love, I will never understand how I deserve this but in this moment I vow to fight for it for as long as I live. I have a family now and that is all I ever wanted.

I glance to Thranduil and note there is the same level of emotion in his eyes but he seems to control it better than I do. He only smiles faintly and tightens his grip on my hand, I feel the coolness of the woven branch like silver ring he wears on his finger, an outward reminder of our pledge. However now he clutches my hand tightly, I think almost in comfort or understanding, I guess he realises how overwhelming the thought must be for me. There is also a hint of sadness in his features that suggests his son's words have caused him pain, for it was his and Legolas' birth mother's actions that robbed the child of a maternal figure. Something that I can only guess causes him a great deal of guilt.

Absently my mind wonders over my own father, such guilt must be hard to stomach, to wake up every day and consider the implications of your actions on your own flesh and blood. No wonder he gave me up to his sister, it was probably the best thing he could think of doing for me. At least with Aunt Tricia and Uncle Rob I had parent figures, as disastrous and emotionless as their bond was, it was at least a stab at normality. If only I could have grasped that when I was with them, maybe I would have been happier and less closed off... like I had the right to have a chip on my shoulder. I cannot change my actions but at least now I can learn from them; I may not be Legolas' birth mother but I can earn the right to be called his mother. I guess this is yet another steep learning curve for me but I readily embrace the challenge.

My long thoughtful silence has obviously unnerved Legolas a little and he lowers his gaze, his cheeks flushing pink;

"Should I call you Nana now?" he murmurs and then peeks to his father for confirmation, Thranduil opens his mouth but no words come out, because really there is no right answer.

"You call me whatever you want," I say quickly and cup his little face in my hands; "It doesn't change anything about us, you are still my liitle rescuer and you always will be. I love you regardless, and that I can promise!"

Legolas gives me a heart meltingly beautiful smile and turns thoughtful for a moment before answering; "I think I still want to call you Clara for now, Nana sounds funny?"

I laugh and nod; "Yes I agree, maybe you should wait until you're absolutely, one hundred percent positive that you like the sound of that name?"

"Okay," he nods and adds somberly; "but I still mean what I said."

"I know you do kiddo!" I reply and kiss his forehead, "And I think that is quite possibly the most wonderful thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Really?" He asks suddenly very delighted with himself and I nod enthusiastically. "Even more wonderful than the nice things Ada said?"

"Heaps more!" I confirm with a giggle and he turns to give a smug little nod to his father;

"Clara loves me more!" He says with such self-assured confidence that I just roll my eyes; yes truly it is a case of like father like son, with these two. Thranduil laughs with no small amount of relief as Legolas tackles him with another bone crunching hug, then darts off to burn some energy climbing the nearest tree. He is so excited and happy I doubt I will ever get him to calm down, it will be a long evening of questions, of that I am sure.

Thranduil and I spend a few moments quietly communing over the exchange. I know there is a lot he wants to say to me and I to him, but for the most part we just settle on a very long loving embrace. There will eons of time to articulate our feelings in the future, but right now I just want to soak up the details of this moment and store them away in my memory forever. We watch over Legolas for a little while before Thranduil states he wants to go for a stroll in the woods before it gets any later. He puts Legolas on his broad shoulders, and takes my hand to guide us through the surrounding wood, like he knows where he is going.

The forest grows quieter the further we walk, but not in an ominous or threatening way, it becomes peaceful and still like it is watching us. The hazy mist weaves in and out the trees and in the distance I can hear waterfalls, so I gather we have reached the river the little stream from before joins with. Everything is such a dark, almost bluish green, that it is captivating and other worldly set against the wisps of grey haze. I fancy that this place is magical, or at least some sort of ancient kingdom not under the command of any living elf or man, this place belongs solely to nature. I hear movement deep in the ethereal shadows of the wood and turn to look to Thranduil with a slight panicked expression.

"What was that?" I whisper, because to speak any louder would sound too deafening in the stillness.

"Iorist," Thranduil only murmurs in reply and gently eases his son down from his shoulders. Legolas quickly comes to curl into my side. He hides behind me and grips my hand, as we both watch his father stupidly walk forward in an almost humble manner, like how one would approach royalty.

It is then in the dissipating mist that I make the form of something large and not at all humanoid making its way toward us. I gasp sharply and protectively curve around Legolas, who practically melds into my side.

"Thranduil?" I hiss resisting the urge to trail him back towards us for safety, "Wha-"

"Hush, this is an honour!" Thranduil quietly gestures for us to remain where we are, and slowly diverts his gaze to the ground in respect of whatever it is that watches us from beyond the mist.

Then in one still moment the haze rolls away and the silhouette of a great deer like creature appears before us, larger than anything I have ever seen. Its antlers are huge, spanning an incredible width and I cannot even fathom how he holds his regal head so high with the weight of such a phenomenal crown. He watches us with composed elegance and seems to be truly considering our worth, I feel like I should bow in the presence of something so majestic. This is a dream, this can hardly be real, I pinch myself only to confirm the obvious truth - I am awake and this is happening. Then to my utter shock the great beast comes to stand before Thranduil, and with his hand outstretched, the animal cautiously sniffs it before pressing the great muzzle into his hand.

"Thranduil?" I barely squeak again, and quickly grapple for Legolas who has curiously wandered forward a few steps. He stops instantly and gives me a pleading look, I frown at him, there is no way he is skipping over there that thing could crush him!

"It is alright," Thranduil eventually speaks; "You can come forward, he allows it."

"What is he?" I mutter as Legolas pulls me forward, though I go reluctantly.

"He is Iorist," he repeats again and gently strokes the great tawny face of the beast; "He and his kind are from the realms of lore, no one would believe elk such as he still rule the forests of Arda."

"An elk?" I gasp, "but he is huge, he is a giant!" By this stage I have now come to stand behind Thranduil, who has lifted Legolas up into his arms to allow him to pet the beast.

The animal snorts and sniffs around the child, whilst I have a mild stroke at Legolas being so close to such a wild animal. Thranduil seems completely as ease as he whispers in elvish to the elk, I make out the odd phrase and I know he is introducing Legolas to him as his own or his child, or something to do with heir. After a moment Iorist lifts his magnificent head and almost gestures to something in the far end of the wood, he lets out a low call that shatters the silence for a moment, and makes me jump clean out of my skin.

The quietness resumes and then a soft bleat can be heard on the air, and as I strain through the haze I make out more movement. There huddled in the dense foliage is a small herd of elk, female - cows I guess would be the correct term; much larger and grander than any image or memory I can recall of an elk. There is another bleat and I now make out the shape of a calf, close to one particular female who stands closer to us than the main herd. She watches the little one with a great deal of caution, as she stands between it and us, allowing us to look but nothing more. This is Iorist's son, his heir, he is making the connection and it is an incredible scene. Thranduil bows his head in thanks and the elk almost appears to do the same, before he turns and strides off towards his herd, re-joining the female and infant that patiently await him.

I stand gobsmacked and rendered powerless for the longest moment and then turn to give Thranduil the same awestruck look, he just nods in understanding;

"Iorist is a friend of the woodland elves," he states in a matter of fact tone. "This is his forest as much as it is ours. He is a King to his kind, and with any ruler boundaries and friendship must be maintained for the good of both realms."

"You oversee this particular relationship?" I ask nervously, still watching the disappearing figures of the herd.

"I found his father many moons ago," Thranduil replies and casually takes my hand to lead back in the direction we came; "I was hunting, for sport, in the woods and stumbled upon one of the great cows you just beheld. I could not believe my luck, if I returned with this prize I would gain much respect from my young peers. But just as I was about to take my shot, he appeared only a few feet from where I crouched. I was stunned to silence, I was certain such a beast would kill me, for I was really a scrawny youth and one blow from those antlers would have rendered me unconscious. However he just stared at me with wise eyes, leaving me just as speechless as you are now, then within a few moments a young calf skittered across my path and joined its mother - the cow I was so ready to slaughter without thought. He taught me a valuable lesson that day, life is precious in all its forms and to take a life without consideration for its implications is both cruel and unwise. It does not make for a good Prince or a good warrior."

"But if that was his father?" I barely whisper as I try to do the mental math; "And you were a youth, how old are these creatures?"

"As old as elves I would imagine?" He shrugs unconcernedly, "Though not immortal, but time moves slower with them as it does with us, I guess this is why I have such an affinity with them."

"An affinity?" I murmur as I still try and wrap my head around the whole event.

"Well from that day I felt quite a spiritual attachment to that creature. I used to track the herd for days on end just to watch him and how he ruled. I learnt a lot about nature and the balance of the forest from he and his kin, and I gained quite the friendship with the calf I inadvertently spared."

"The calf was Iorist wasn't it?" I ask though I am well aware of the answer

"Yes," Thranduil grins sheepishly, "You know he will let me ride him if the need is dire, or if he feels particularly indulgent. Though I have come to the conclusion he just likes to show off."

"Show off?"

"You know, because he has a pet elf that follows him around."

To this I roar with laughter, and even Legolas joins in, who has been just as captivated by his father's tale as I have. I would heartily agree that this is the case, because I don't think you would ever tame an animal such as that, though I doubt you could ever tame an elf like Thranduil. There is something much deeper to him than he lets on, a cloaked enlightenment that he rarely lets slip, but I think I saw a glimpse of that today. He is always so acutely connected to his surroundings and it is not something that is natural to all elves, it is something purely distinctive to him. I never see him more alive and more himself than when he is within the woods. His home...our home.

***AUTHOR NOTE***

Well just a little filler chapter to tie up some things and do some character development...

Rocheal means wise horse lady

Sirdal means river foot

and

Iorist means one of ancient lore (or there abouts) :)

Also just FYI the name Clara and most of its variants means; Clear or Bright and famous...I don't just name my characters for the fun of it, everything is in a name :P

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