Laineth is quite the abnormal Elleth, unique in her own way. Admittedly, you could say that about anyone, but Laineth is different, something no one in King Thranduil's court can put their finger on. Some are suspicious of her, especially when she j...
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Song: The Woodland Realm - Howard Shore
Third Age, Year 11
King Thranduil did not believe in fairy tales.
Long ago, he'd learned the hard way that the world is harsh and punishing. While the Valar can be kind and merciful, they can also be unforgiving, bestowing their wrath onto the people of Arda. Others may think of it in a lighter way, such as when someone's time is up, Eru Ilúvatar will take them from the world and send them to Valinor, where they will live out a much more happy and fulfilling life.
Thranduil disagreed completely. He witnessed his father's brutal death on the battlefield not eight years past. He knew of the brutality of the world and it's inhabitants. As King, he knew that it was his duty to protect his people. As relieved as he was that the second Dark Lord had been defeated, he could not help but dread the future. In his mind, he had no one there to help him. Not in the physical sense of course, many of his subjects would lay their life down for him, but mentally, he had no one. His father was dead and his mother, so overwhelmed by grief, traveled across the sea and into the west after Thranduil's official coronation, only a few months after Oropher's death. He had advisers galore, but they were official postings, only to help the King with the business of the realm, not to ask him how he was doing and if he was ok.
Over the few years he'd been King, Thranduil had learned to listen to his people, lest they rise up in revolt. In whispers every now and then, he'd heard of a supposed witch roaming the outer edges of his realm. The Greenwood was immensely large, so he never considered sending out a party to go find this woman, especially because those who had apparently come into contact with her never seemed to recall what she looked like, or rambled on about how she seemed to be many different people all at once.
Never did he really pay much attention to the rumors. They were just that; Rumors. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn't believe in fairy tales. Of course, he listened to every young boy and girl, every wizened elleth and ellon, droning on and on about how this woman healed them from the brink of certain death, how she radiated light from her lone figure, how she had a certain glint in her eye that hinted towards her unknown background. He wanted to ensure that his people could feel like they could bring their concerns to him, even if they were just telling stories. Oddly enough, while he didn't believe them, he certainly enjoyed hearing about this woman. The tales reminded him of his mother, lulling him to sleep as a child while she seemingly made stories up off of the top of her head.
So obviously, he was taken by surprise when this woman was hassled up to the front doors of his palace one autumn evening. The sun was beginning to set and he was just preparing to head off to change for dinner, when a pair of guards charged over the bridge and up towards the throne, where Thranduil had just descended from. Raising an eyebrow at the flustered guards, he motioned for them to speak, waving his hand.
