Northern Flames

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JRR Tolkien, various publishers including but not limited to Houghton Mifflin Co, Mariner Books, Ballantine Books, and New Line Cinemas. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Part II of the Shadow series. While intended to be read as a stand-alone piece of work, it will be more satisfying to know the back-story, so I recommend you read my earlier work(s) to better understand it.

PG-13 rating is for light to moderate angst and adult relationships.

Eryn Galen (Greenwood) was the former name of the great realm of Mirkwood that is ruled over by Thranduil. It was due to the emergence of dark creatures that is recounted in this tale that men started to call it Mirkwood. The events chronicled in this story take place at around 1050 of the 3rd Age, some 1900 years before the events that culminated in the destruction of the One Ring.

While I have tried my best to keep this story as close to JRR Tolkien's universe as much as possible, be warned that there are still several outstanding points that do not fit his tales, and are due to my paltry knowledge of his works.

There is a lot of dispute about the age and heritage of the Elven prince, but in my version of events, he has yet to reach 200 years of age at this point in time. Also, Legolas is of Sindarin heritage, but his family has adopted the ways of the Silvan folk, hence him being both a Silvan and Sindarin prince.

This story might contain mild m/m elements in later chapters. If that is not your cup of tea, you can read the 'non-slash' version at Stories of Arda's archive, and search under my pen-name.

Finally, oodles of thanks to my lovely beta, Chloe Amethyst!

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Prologue - Despair

It was late, too late for grief. Their home was destroyed, and he had failed to protect it, failed to bring his people together and drive the invaders out of their forest. Now, it was overrun, with the dark creatures calling it home. And his people? They were hiding, hiding in the caves, hiding with their injured and dying.

How had it come to this? His father had entrusted him with the duty to defend his people, leaving him to rule over them, to bring much peace and happiness to them, and he had failed him in the worst possible way. The palace of his family for millennia was razed to the ground; the homes of his people were devastated by axe and fire.

What could one do against such evil? Fighting was something he tired of, something that he had seen too much of. Yet, it was the only choice. How could they lay down their arms and give in to the hatred, give in to the darkness, to the shadow that now swept over his lands.

Where was hope in a time like this? He had no answers. None that satisfied his weary, jaded heart. Joy had left him an age ago, with the passing of his beloved wife. Love, happiness, wonderment--all those were strangers to him, especially since his sons left. One, he lost forever; the other, sent on a hopeless quest, to his doom. As a father, he had allowed his only child to go off on the mission, knowing that he would not return from it, for it was their only chance against the darkness. As usual, he had watched as fate dealt him yet another cruel hand. Leaving him all --

Alone.

Yes, that seemed to be his destiny. To be stripped of all those he loved and held dear; to lose the boy just as he had regained him.

He could feel cruel laughter in his ears, mocking, jeering at him, daring him to cry out at how unfair it was. How had it come to be so? How had he come to be seated on the edge of a barren throne, casting his tired eyes over a ravaged kingdom?

Why? He cried out in despair, watching the hard soil in his clenched fists crumble and blow away with the wind. Before him stood the forest he loved so dear, behind him the caverns.

Many of his people had come up to him in the past days, thanking him for his decision to lead them to safety, praising his foresight in preparing the caves, expressing their relief that no further lives had been lost. Yet, he was deaf to them, for they did not mean anything to him, not when he could no longer see the future ahead of him. Not when he had given up all faith in everything.

Hope, joy, love--they were all gone. He was all alone.