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Chapter 1:

King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, son of Oropher was pacing around his throne room, thinking for the millionth time ever since his beloved wife Lainathiel departed to the Valinor after being weak from the war between Elves and the forces of Angmar at Mount Gundabad, leaving him to tend over their young son by his lonesome, Prince Legolas who was no older than fifty years of age, practically still a newborn babe.

Whenever he would set his crystal blue eyes upon his son's, he felt a stab of pain in his heart. For staring right back at him, were the eyes he had inherited from his meleth Lainathiel.

Legolas inherited his silver blonde hair, nose and lips, but he gained Lainathiel's expressive light grey eyes and soft features which were a far cry from Thranduil's angular, sharp and prominent features.

Thranduil had lived in Arda and was King for many millennia, and he was utterly exhausted. Life had no meaning for him anymore, and he felt that his existence was merely that, just the will to exist. He continued existing for his meleth, he would never forget the last promise he had made to her before she sailed away to the Valinor, promising to raise their son and look after him till the end of time.

A lot has changed in Arda since the First Age, which was when his birth took place, and Thranduil found himself recalling how he wronged the dwarves the last time he encountered them, which was during the third age, T.A 2770 when the dragon Smaug had attacked Erebor, the Lonely Mountain and the thriving town of Dale.

Thranduil knew that Lainathiel would have been greatly disappointed in him for leaving their allies, the dwarves of Erebor, to fend for themselves, not even giving them aid. But Thranduil put all the blame on King Thror, who he had warned that his greed would incur the dragon's wrath, displaying all the gold was a calling for the dragon to descend on them, bringing death upon the Lonely Mountain.

A part of him was terrified of facing another dragon as he had faced one of the great serpents of the North, disfiguring half of his face with severe burns and a left blind eye, which he managed to cover up with a glamour that he never took off.

Thranduil didn't want to bring the wrath of Smaug onto his army, and most especially his son, Legolas, after he had promised Lainathiel that he would always keep him safe, and so, as the King of the Woodland Realm, he made the decision to allow the dwarves led by King Thror who was recovering from Gold Sickness to fend for themselves.

It was only after the dwarves had passed his realm, and he had calmed down from his fear of there being a dragon nearby that Thranduil felt guilt and terribly sickened with himself by what he had done. He could hear his meleth yelling in his ear from the Valinor that he could have at least given the dwarves supplies and a place to rest and heal. But it was too late and they were already far gone by the time he came upon the realization that he had wronged them.

Thus, starting the feud between the Elves and the Dwarves that would last a very long time.

It has been 150 years since Smaug attacked Erebor and Dale, throwing the dwarves and men out of their home, and Thranduil found himself once again the victim of such agonizing guilt and depressing thoughts of his late wife Lainathiel and how he had failed her with Legolas as he was such a cold father to him, always distant.

Thranduil lost count of how many times he went to his chambers and had many a restless nights, him waking up in the middle of the night because his thoughts and plagues guilt would not leave him alone, even in his subconscious, and so Thranduil lost many a days without rest, but as it had been two days since Thranduil laid his body to rest, he had no choice but to enter his chambers and hope as he always hoped since Lainathiel sailed away, that he would have a peaceful sleep.

That night, Thranduil found himself experiencing quite an odd dream; he found himself in the interior of what looked to be a cottage.

How odd.

Looking around at his surroundings, he saw plenty items that looked to be not of Arda, and as he went to pick up a box with what looked to be soft buttons impaled onto it, he found his hand passing through it, as though he were a spirit.

What a peculiar dream.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of childish giggles of glee, effectively snapping his attention away from his disturbing thoughts. Walking along a corridor that had … were those portraits moving?

He found himself entering a scene of a man and a baby girl who looked to be a year old. The man had messy, raven hair, prominent cheekbones and hazel eyes that were hidden behind some kind of framed glass piece; what an odd item to wear. In his arms however, was a little girl with vivid red curls that were the color of rubies and huge doe-like eyes the color of emeralds.

The little girl was laughing and giggling, waving her chubby arms around while her father waved around a wooden stick in his hands, emitting colored bubbles from it.

Was this magic? He had never seen such an Istari in all of Arda; there were only five to his knowledge, the brown wizard, the grey wizard, the white wizard and two blue wizards.

He would have to have a world with Lady Galadriel, Lord Elrond and Mithrandir about this Istari; he didn't like communicating with Saruman the White, and so he decided that he would leave it to the three to waylay him about this disturbing discovery.

Unless of course, he was merely having a dream; a vivid one at that.

Hearing a voice to his right, he found himself facing a beautiful woman with red hair and green eyes the exact same coloring as the little girl. So this must be her mother, he thought. The woman had soft, petite features and had a wooden stick in her hand as well, similar yet of different wood to her husband's.

Is this a family of Istari? Are they new to Arda, or is he just having an unorthodox dream?

They looked to be of the race of men, and not Istari sent by the Valar to Arda to help aid the free peoples of Middle Earth against the threat of Sauron.

"James, it's time for Electra's bedtime," the woman laughed. James? That is not a name commonly found in Arda; neither is Electra, although he knew the name to mean 'the shining one', Siladhiel in Sindarin.

"Come on Lily, its Halloween, give me some time with our daughter," the man – James laughed, mischief shone in his hazel eyes behind that framed item.

Halloween? Thranduil had never heard that word before. These people are not of Arda, and Thranduil found himself wondering what sort of eccentric dream his subconscious had dreamed up, but it was a great welcome to his usual nightmares.

"Halloween or not, she is only one, she won't remember it James," snapped Lily fondly, placing her hands on her hips.

Thranduil leaned against the wall as he watched the woman – Lily walk over to her daughter and carry her into his arms. He inhaled sharply when they walked past him, and Electra's emerald green eyes looked directly at his crystal blue ones, as though she could see him.

Thranduil immediately dismissed that thought, the two Istari's couldn't see him, and this was a dream after all.

Suddenly, with Thranduil's impeccable hearing, he heard the creak of the gate outside, and looking over at James he could tell he heard it as well, and he suddenly began yelling, "Lily, take Electra and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

Thranduil felt the mood in the cottage deteriorate drastically as he witnessed the complete fear etched on the man's face; but it wasn't fear for him, no … it was fear for his family, for his wife and for his daughter. He heard Lily scream in fear from the landing above and Thranduil watched as a man completely covered in a black hooded cloak laugh at James, who was reaching out for his wooden stick that he used to emit colorful bubbles for his daughter just mere minutes ago.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Thranduil watched in shock as a jet of green light was produced from the stick in the hooded figure's hand, filling the hallway with a vivid green light, and the man – James fell onto the floor like a puppet whose strings were cut.

Thranduil stared at the man, James in horror.

He was dead!

Thranduil has never heard of such magic that could kill with two words, he had never even seen life get snuffed before like it was too easy and with no blood or bodily harm. Who are these Istari's? What dark magic is this?!

He tore his eyes away from those lifeless hazel eyes that were filled with love, joy and mischief mere minutes ago, when he heard a terrified scream from the upper floor, and that was when he remembered that the man's wife and daughter were upstairs, barricading themselves from the other Istari.

He passed through the door where the woman and child were in before the hooded figure could reach them, only to watch Lily place Electra in a cot and speak to her in a voice filled with love and heartbreaking sadness, reminding him so much of his meleth, "Electra Amycate Potter, your mommy loves you, and your daddy loves you, oh sweetie you are so loved-"

The door blasted open with a mere flick of that wooden stick, and Thranduil felt a chill go down his spine as he watched the woman throw her arms wide in front of her daughter and facing the Istari, shielding her from sight as if hoping to protect her daughter with her body would be enough.

"Not Electra, not Electra, please not Electra!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl … stand aside, now."

The dark Istari's voice was cruel, lacking any warmth and turning his blood cold at the mere sound of it.

"Not Electra, please no, take me, kill me instead –"

"This is my last warning –"

"Not Electra! Please … have mercy … have mercy. … Not Electra! Not Electra! Please – I'll do anything –"

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"

Thranduil was shocked. The hooded figure wanted to kill … he wanted to kill a little girl, a baby no older than the age of one, why? How cruel! How despicable!

For the race of Elves and Dwarves, children were precious as there didn't seem to be many, and here this man was willing to murder a child … he was hunting her, killing her parents because they bravely stood in his way – to protect her.

The dark Istari seemed to have tired of arguing with her and as another flash of green light surrounded the room, the woman, Lily – was dead; her lifeless emerald green eyes staring at the ceiling.

Thranduil saw the dark Istari walk towards the child, and he felt bile rise in his throat … he was about to witness the murder of a child. What has his subconscious conjured? As if it weren't enough he had to dream about all the people he had failed, his kingdom, his wife and his son, now he had to dream of some random made-up family get murdered.

The little girl hadn't cried at all the whole time during the pleading and murdering of her mother; she tried standing, clutching the bars of the crib she had been placed in, and she looked up at the hooded figure with interest in her face.

Thranduil watched in horror as the dark Istari raised his wooden stick to the little girl's face, and she began to cry – she seemed to have noticed that the dark figure was not her mother or her father.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"NO!" yelled Thranduil. He leapt in front of the child at the same time the jet of green line hit her, but it merely passed through him and onto her forehead.

But something peculiar happened. Instead of falling down like a marionette the same way her father and mother did, the jet of green light rebounded back to the dark Istari, destroying him and tearing his body apart until nothing but two fogs of black smoke remained.

One of the entities was yelling agonizing screams as it fled out the destroyed room as rubble from the destroyed roof began littering the area, and the other entity of black smoke entered the little girl through her forehead, disappearing entirely from view.

Thranduil leapt out of his bed, immediately checking his surroundings to make sure he was in his chambers while breathing wildly, inhaling and exhaling air.

For the first time since Lainathiel sailed away, Thranduil hadn't awoken in the middle of the night, but instead at the start of a new day.

What dream was that? It felt so real that Thranduil was sure he would awaken in that destroyed cottage.

Who were those Istari? James and Lily; and the little girl who survived such an evil curse, Electra Amycate Potter.

Thranduil needed to send word to Mithrandir, Galadriel and Elrond at once, for he was sure that it was no ordinary dream his subconscious merely cooked up.

A/N: What do you think? This is a new fanfiction I have decided on, and I have many plans for it.

If I made any mistakes with the date, let me know because it is very confusing for me and I spent ages on Google so I could get it right.

Let me know what you think, new chapter will be out by tomorrow.