The King's Heart (Thranduil Fanfiction)

Chapter 1

(Thranduil)

"Be careful, Legolas."

"Yes, ada," Legolas giggled, returning to the leaves. I sat on a small mound of dirt that Legolas had built for me weeks ago. We were on top of the hill that hid our cavernous kingdom from the world. This was the only time of the day I could watch him without interruption. None of my advisors dared to violate my time with my son, the consequences were severe.

Legolas came trotting back to me with two short sticks in his hand. He swung them around like daggers he had seen his favorite guards practicing with. Orcs had been more and more violent lately; many different groups have been testing our borders, trying to gain access to the realm. I choose my guards carefully and keep warriors at the ready. My Captain of the Guard is an elf from Rivendell I trained myself when I commanded the guard.

Annoneth was young, but she was not naïve. She was exceptionally skilled with blades, long and short. She would often teach Legolas simple moves as well as other essential techniques for self defense. She taught him to listen to the forest and think calmly in times of panic. These things are typically the mother's lessons to teach, but she passed soon after our son took his first steps.

"Ada!" Legolas squealed, charging towards me. I let Legolas tackle me and we went tumbling down the hill toward the gate. The guards followed slowly, keeping a little more than a respectful distance.

When we neared the bottom of the hill, I saw Annoneth wading through a pile of orcs. The guards came rushing up behind me, swords already drawn. I yelled for one of them to take Legolas inside and get me my sword. I could see more orcs coming out of the trees, and there seemed to be no end to them.

"Why was I not informed?!" I yelled to Annoneth, only a short distance from me.

"I did not want to disturb your time with your son!" She yelled back, plunging her twin knives into two orcs. I tried to be reasonable, orcs did not usually attack with such numbers as they did now. A guard brought out my blade and drew her own bow, a brown-fletched arrow already notched and ready to fly. I let my mind grow quiet, the familiar weight of my blade a mild comfort in the chaos. The curved blade sliced soundlessly through the air as I began my own slaughter of the invaders.

They came rushing in at once, and I found myself surrounded several times. I did not have armor, I was dressed for an hour in the sun: a lightweight silk shirt, trousers, and boots. There was never a need to wear my crown during my hour with Legolas, he was my son after all. Defensive was my song. Orc blades are jagged and have been found coated in a poison hard to heal even for elves.

Annoneth came to my aid more than once, stabbing and slashing through orcs before I could be overrun. Together, we cut down brutes, covering each other's blind spots, Annoneth often using me as a leaping pad, a technique we perfected hundreds of years ago.

Suddenly I felt a sharp, hot pain in my thigh and lost my balance. As I had been running forward, an orc had managed to land an arrow. I cursed in elvish as I broke the shaft off, trying to sit up. The orcs were growing desperate, their numbers dwindling. Suddenly, Annoneth was by my side again, the Guard surrounding me with bows and swords in their hands. They brought the remainder of the orcs down from their protective circle.

I was helped inside as I groaned through gritted teeth. I am king, it is not fit for me to be screaming on my way to the healer's room, but the pain has spread from my thigh down to my foot and up to my chest. Annoneth was supporting most of my weight as we made our way through the halls. When we finally made it to the healer's room, I was barely able to catch my breath. I could feel sweat dripping down my back and soaking my shirt. I could almost feel the poison running through my blood.

"On the table!" Tarawen shouted. She was the best healer I had ever known, but she could not save everyone. Annoneth helped me up to the raised platform of stone and Tarawen started tearing my boots and trouser legs off. The young healer braced herself against my knee and ripped the arrow tip from my flesh. At that point I screamed. Royal dignity be damned. Annoneth has seen me injured plenty of times, but even my infallible captain flinched at the sound. Some of the pain was fading into numbness finally, the shock of the injury allowing my nerves some false reprieve.

Tarawen was shouting at her assistants, but I could scarcely hear over the deafening silence growing in my head. Annoneth stepped up to my leg, pressing a damp cloth onto the searing hole in my leg. I felt my consciousness slipping as I gripped Annoneth's arm.

"Legolas?" I gasped. She knew what I meant.

"He's in his room, waiting for you. Do not make him wait forever," she demanded as I slipped into unconsciousness.