Ringspell

Chapter 9.


Pheredil...


"Thousands of years ago," Gandalf began. "Mirkwood was not the dark place it is now, though the realm has always been shrouded in magic and mystery. Even when all the world was in turmoil, this forest was removed from it all, protected by the magic of Gods and Elven-kings of the past. That was, until the old King died without an heir and revolution erupted amongst the Sindar.


Countless lives were lost in the violence that followed and, for a time, the forest was rendered defenceless against the outside world, the fight for the throne drawing sentries from their posts and Magii from their towers.


It was in this time, when war reigned in the realm, that the Enemy crept into the woods, bringing with him malicious spirits, that brought death and destruction to all they encountered, and the Shadow, that followed wherever he went and befouled the very air.


Finally, after many years, a new King rose to power; Thranduil, who was Silvan by descent, one of the last of his kind to walk this Middle-Earth. This new King took a Sindarin bride, and it is said, -"


"What was her name?"


"Anastriana."


"Oh."


"As I was saying..." Gandalf looked around, the way a school teacher looks at unruly students, making sure they were paying attention.


And he continued...


"Thranduil took a Sindarin bride, and it is said, as it often is of queens of the past, that she was the most beautiful of all the Sindar, but this was not why he chose her. Thranduil and Anastriana were desperately in love and deliriously happy together. But, for reasons the healers could not discern, they were unable to have children. It was the only flaw in an otherwise perfect marriage, but it was enough to tear them apart.


Thranduil's advisers counselled him to leave Anastriana and take another wife, to secure the future of his line. Thranduil refused, and the knowledge that he would never have a son sent him into a deep melancholy. He withdrew into his underground palace, refusing to see anyone, and there he would remain, for many years to come.


For the next few decades the day-to-day running of his realm was handled by Anastriana, who was, by the way, a good deal more kind in her rule than her husband and much loved by her subjects. In fact, so complete was the King's retreat from public view, that despite the assurances of his advisers, the people of Mirkwood began to wonder if they're Silvan ruler even lived.


Life went on in this manner, quite peacefully in fact, for many years. Until one day, out of nowhere, the peace was shattered. Kehlios, Thranduil's most trusted Hunter and the only person to speak directly to the King for some years, advised that the queen had gone out on her horse two days prior, and had not returned. Thranduil flew into a violent rage at the news, demanding that every Hunter be sent into the wild, to find his beloved bride.


The Hunters left, and they searched every inch of the forest and did not find her. They expanded their search, venturing far beyond the borders of their realm, driven on, long after they had given up hope, by the anguished screams of their sorrowful King. Years passed, and finally the Hunters gave up their search and returned to the King with the news that his wife could not be found. But Thranduil would not believe them.


He gathered his Hunters – some twenty thousand in number, and saw light of day for the first time in more than a hundred years, as he led the march to Dol Guldur; the only place left in all his realm, where he might find his long lost bride."


Gandalf stopped and looked around the room. Spotting a dark brown bottle resting on a shelf on the wall, the old Man got up out of his chair, and wandered over. He picked up the bottle and pulled the stopper loose, pausing to cautiously sniff the contents, before gulping down several mouthfuls.


"Did he find her?" Pippin asked.


"Oh, he found her alright." The Wizard said, as he resumed his seat. "He found her on the floor of the ante-chamber, in a pool of blood."


Several gasps escaped his audience.


"Now, as if it was not horror enough, to see his love's lifeless form, Thranduil's torment did not end, there. You see, crouching over the body of his queen, bloodied knife in shaking hand, was a small child, no more than five years old, weeping and crying out for his father."


All eyes turned to Legolas.


"They searched high and low for sign of Sauron, but the fortress was empty, save the boy and the body." Gandalf continued. "Now there was no doubt that Anastriana was the child's mother, and that her son had been her murderer, and evidence would suggest it was indeed Sauron who had fathered the child, but, despite these things, Thranduil kept the boy alive and claimed him as his own, perhaps to preserve the memory of his lost beloved.


It was the beginning of the return of normality to Mirkwood. The King returned to his throne and again took up the rule of his realm, and now he had a son by his side, an heir to his kingdom, a child he could call his own."


It took a moment for Aragorn to realise, the old Man had finished speaking. When he did, he felt profoundly unsatisfied.


"Is that it?" He asked of the Wizard.


Gandalf looked at him mildly.


"The rest is immaterial." He said.


Gimli grunted.


"That's all well and good, Gandalf, but it doesn't tell us what we should do with our thieving, little spy, here."


"What we do, is nothing, Gimli. There are reasons for the existence of all things. Legolas is indeed, something of a rare breed on this earth; a Pheredil - though the term is most often used to describe those whose parents are Elven and mortal. Sauron is a Maia, a lesser race of the Ainur."


"What does that mean?" Boromir asked.


"It means our young Prince has the potential to be a powerful ally, especially when Thranduil finally breathes his last. That aside, he is also good in a fight, and this Fellowship needs all the help it can get. Now, there will be no more of these... incidents," The old Man reassured them. "It was the orb that called our friend to the shadows, and the foul thing is gone now. I would rather keep the child in my sight, through the uncertainty of this war, than rid the world of such a unique creature."


Aragorn thought it more than a little rude, to talk about the Elf, as though he were not in the room, but when he looked at Legolas he saw no sign of distress; the young Prince apparently happy that someone was prepared to speak on his behalf. It also seemed, as Gandalf continued to answer the Fellowship's questions, that the old Wizard was doing a very good job of turning their friend's heritage into a subject for academic discussion, rather than a reason for distrust.


By the time the conversation was ended, all were, if not happy, at least prepared to accept that Legolas would still be a part of their quest, despite the recent revelations about him.


Then, without further ado, the Wizard told them it was time to move on again, claiming they had lingered long enough, in the shadows of the past.


It was time to deal with the present – and visit the King of Mirkwood.


To be continued...