Disclaimer: All characters in this story, save my own, do not belong to me. They are property of J.R.R. Tolkien, and whoever else owns the copyright. I write this tale for entertainment purposes alone, and I am neither seeking nor receiving any profit from it whatsoever, lest it be in the form of confidence-building reviews, and extra practice in writing.

Hi, welcome to "The Enlightenment" – this is just an introduction, and there will hopefully be more soon.

"The Enlightenment" follows a young Legolas and his friends who embark, quite by accident, on a strange adventure. As time passes and the young elfling and his friends fail to return, Thranduil begins to wonder if perhaps the cause of their disappearance is himself; and, thus, through much self-contemplation, angst, and work, Thranduil becomes a changed elf – for the most part.

Well, that's about all I have to say for now. I hope you enjoy!


Chapter One: The King of Mirkwood



Thranduil Oropherion of Mirkwood was renowned as a great king among Elves. His stalwart will, firm hand, and knowledge of warfare alone kept his realm safe for so many centuries. Unlike the Lord of Imladris and the Lady of Lórien, he had no ring to aid him in the defence of his borders. He had only his people, and he led them well.

Men and Elves alike quailed under his steel-blue gaze; his kingdom was one of the richest in all of Arda; the skill of his warriors was legendary; and even the mere mention of his name commanded respect. His golden hair was luxurious and full; his face, fair and stern; his posture regal. He was indeed the perfect picture of a most noble king.

That is not to say, however, that the king was without his faults. In fact, he was as well known for them as he was for his more redeeming qualities – the countless storage rooms beneath his realm being a full testament to one of them. For they were so jam-packed to bursting with gold, jewels, mithril, pearls, and silver that even the greedy Smaug, with his vast hoard in the Lonely Mountain, would quake with jealousy if he knew of them. And it was just as well that he didn't; for the king placed a hefty price on these most treasured trinkets, and an angered Thranduil was indeed a force to be reckoned with, as temper was his chief fault and one that he succumbed to quite frequently for an Elven lord.

As it were, his loud, angered voice was raised once again in a booming yell that echoed in every corridor of his palace, causing those within to cringe in sympathy for the fated young soul at whom it was directed.



That's all for now, but I hope to post very soon. Please review!