Kingsfoil [Thranduil] LOTR

Adventurous

Art credit: "Thranduil" by Moliko

Four hundred years ago...

Narylfiel was ready for an epic adventure. She woke up early in the morning and filled Legolas' old water skin. She did not worry about missing breakfast, because she had a couple of biscuits wrapped up in a napkin in her knapsack. She had her wooden dagger, not as good as a real one, mind you, but it was the best she had, since Thaliniel had told Legolas in no uncertain terms that she was too young to have a sharpened blade. She had her little woven knapsack, in which she carefully placed Bun where his head could peek out enough to see her journey. But most importantly, Narylfiel had a treasure map, which she carefully rolled up and tucked under her belt where she could easily consult it.

She was in search of a fabulous treasure. Her map led her high and low through the halls of the Elvenking. She followed every landmark, every turn, diligently checking her map along the way until she slowed her progress and dubiously eyed her surroundings. She must have taken a misstep somewhere along the way, although even as the thought crossed her mind, she was sure she had followed the map perfectly.

She poked her head into the king's study, and Thranduil looked up from his desk.

"Good afternoon, Narylfiel." His keen eyes took in her sturdy boots, the little pack, and the odd bit of rolled parchment next to the wooden dagger on her belt. "What do you have there?" he asked.

She trotted over to see him, unrolled her map on his desk "It's a treasure map," she told him.

"I can see that," he said, the corners of his mouth turning up. "Who drew this for you?"

"Legolas."

Thranduil snorted. "I thought as much." His son had obviously not inherited a drop of his artistic ability.

"Except I think I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere." She pointed to the map. "Because it says here I have to pass by a fearsome beast to get to the treasure, but I must have read it wrong. Because it led me right to you. And that can't be right."

The king nodded gravely, his eyes lingering on Legolas' sketch of the fearsome beast—a gruesome green-skinned sallow-haired creature, hunched thin-legged on a throne—obviously his son's idea of a joke. "What kind of treasure are you searching for?"

She tilted her head in thought. "I don't know," she said, "but in a lot of my adventure stories there's a quest for treasure. Have you ever been on a quest for a fabulous treasure, Thranduil?

"I have not," but—" he told her and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "I think I can help you find your missing treasure."

"You can?" Narylfiel rolled her map up, tucked it back under her belt. "What are we waiting for?"

Thranduil stood and offered her his arm. "Shall we?" he said. A trip down to the the treasury might be just the right ending for her adventure.

Catching a wink from Bun as she slid her knapsack back onto her shoulder, Narylfiel proudly took the king's arm. She would gladly follow him anywhere.

. - . - .

March, 3019:

The sky had faded into a dusky velvet when Narylfiel poked her head out the door to see Melui standing in the hall.

Her eyes scanned the empty hallway. "Did the king tell you where he was going?" she asked her friend.

"No." Melui drew the short word out like a question