Nin Chronicles: My Word

Elrond Arrives

First a thank you to everyone who voted and commented on the last chapter! Thank you @Cairo1973, @Tiemna, @Avaloyuru, @Elf_of_hogwarts, @nathalieAlice, and @puts_the_bi_in_bitch. I hope to hear from you again soon!

Elrond glanced at the bare trees of Mirkwood as he rode. Thranduil's realm stretched on for miles. In the spring it lit up with new life and buds; an ocean of green. In fall it flamed with magnificent color. But during winter, the trees stood naked, displaying their trunks and limbs with pride. A shallow layer of snow covered the ground, scattering on the wind as the wind whipped it through the air.

The horses' hooves clumped through the snow, following the gentle touches of their riders, and the riders followed the fur-clad silvan elf leading the way ahead of them. The elf followed a path hidden by the snow but visible to his feet, who had walked it hundreds of times. As the party ventured deeper into Mirkwood, the Rivendell elves saw log houses set in hollows of trees, neat paths leading onto the main one. Houses were built above them in the wide, flat boughs of the trees, rope ladders and bridges widening through the branches and down the trunks.

Elrond saw fur-clad elflings wrestling in the snow, hurling slush balls at one another. They stopped to stare at the visitors. Curiosity satisfied within minutes, they resumed their joyful activities.

He and his escort had been riding through Mirkwood for several days now and the journey was at a near end.

The trees thinned out and a narrow path led onto an arching stone bridge. Below it, the forest river rushed past, edged by ice. Dark, cold water flowed between the gaps in the ice like liquid blackness. At the end of the bridge, another short path led up to the great palace gates. The structure rose into the air, doors inlaid with blue and silver colors, and the roof ending in a twining of tree branches.

"We have arrived, Lord Elrond," said the guide. He pushed back the hood of his cloak for the first time, revealing a flushed face and dark hair. "If you will dismount, your horses will be taken to the stables, and your luggage attended to you. The king is waiting."

Elrond swung one leg over the saddle and stepped from the stirrup to the ground. His escort left their mounts, handing the reins of their horses to the elves that emerged to take them.

The palace doors swung open, the hinges groaning as the metal swung back. The guide gestured for Elrond and his party to follow him into the palace.

It had been years—centuries—since Elrond's last visit to Mirkwood, and the realm had grown since then. The palace stretched out before him, great halls and rooms connected by stairs. At the heart of the palace sat the king's throne.

The guide stepped aside and bowed as he approached the throne, the silver and blue layers of Thranduil's mantel draped across it. Thranduil rose from the seat, his body casting a long shadow onto the floor in front of him and covering Elrond. The shape of his crown made spikes over Elrond's face, and the elf lord felt as though . . . perhaps Thranduil was angry.

"Welcome to Mirkwood," Thranduil said, his voice level though the air around him felt as though a storm gathered.

"Thank you. It is honor to . . . be here. As you know, I am most anxious to learn of the whereabouts of my sons and—"

Thranduil held up a hand to stop him. "I have no doubt you are worried about the twins, but I assure you they are in good health. In as good health as any elfling can be when they have been treated as they have." His eyes were accusing.

"What has happened to my sons? Are they injured?" Elrond demanded, his eyes lighting up with worry.

"In a way, they are," Thranduil replied.