A shadow lies on Thranduil and his forest, and only a power stronger than the darkness of old can save them.
Grief and loss have turned him into a king with a heart of ice, and if he is ever to find redemption, the chains of guilt and remorse holdin...
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The world might indeed be ahead of Anna, but it was concealed quite well behind the dense thicket that was the forest of Mirkwood, which stretched sheer endlessly before her eyes. An impenetrable wall of branches, trunks and roots lay in between her and the Elvenking. But she had set herself to conquer, or at least cross, the forest unharmed and she would not let herself be intimidated by its daunting appearance before having even set a foot in it.
The gates of the palace were shut and sealed for good and she took her first deep breath in the wild. She was on her own now, no one watching her but also no one watching out for her.
She rummaged in her backpack and reached for the boots and gloves as well as the thick woolen tunic, which Brethilwen had packed as a matter of prudence. She pulled the tunic over her head, making sure the sword in its scabbard was securely tied on top of it and easily accessible, changed into the tall leather boots, pulled the heavy cloak around her shoulders and then packed away all the clothes she would not be needing. Finally only the gloves were left and then she shouldered her backpack and was ready to head out on her journey.
Peaceful and serene was Thranduil's kingdom in its wintry beauty and one could easily forget all the dangers and dark secrets it possibly held in store for the unaware traveller. The sky spanned above her as she headed for the bridge, patches of washed out blue peeking through crisp clouds that moved hastily across the morning sky. She trudged along through the ankle deep snow following the tracks of the visitor until she reached to opposite side of the bridge and the entrance to the forest lay before her like a giant mouth ready to devour anyone that stepped inside without the king's leave.
She turned around once more, glancing back one last time at the palace across the bridge and a mixture of melancholy and sorrow overcame her. After all she did have some very precious memories of the rare but intimate moments she had shared with Thranduil. Should all this now be something of the past? Or was there still a future for her in the king's realm, or more importantly, in his heart? Doubts about the rightfulness of her endeavour poked her conscience, but she had already gone too far to turn back again. And in the end her intention was not to run away but to be reunited with Thranduil once more.
"Good bye," she whispered, adding in a more resolute tone "I will be back. With the king by my side."
°°°°°°°°°°
With a deep sigh she turned away from the Elvenking's halls and made her way into the forest. The dome of thick branches above her quickly hid the sky from her view and somehow it was like being swallowed by a long tunnel, strangely isolated from the rest of the world, the vegetation thickening quickly as she strode on. Soon the snow was reduced to small patches on the ground and some carelessly sprinkled branches until it had nearly receded completely, revealing the forest floor almost as it used to be in autumn, a thick rug of fallen and crumpled leaves, painting the way with a gloomy brown and a sickly green, rustling eerily beneath her feet as she moved on. Ancient oaks with their trunks as mighty as they were gnarled lined her path, the branches of slender beeches and lithe birches webbing themselves together high above her, shutting out whatever little sunshine there might have been in the wintry sky above. Although it was still only in the morning it was already dim like in the late hours of a grey November day.
