ATTENTION: Currently seeking a Beta reader to proof read my work before I post it. Areas of interest are grammar and punctuation. I would also enjoy feedback about the quality of my stories. If interested please send me a private you.

In Middle Earth a wide variety of creatures exist. There are the more commonly known such as orcs, wargs, and trolls. But there are some that few know about and even fewer have seen. Creatures like werewolves, shapeshifters, and vampires. It was almost 2000 years ago that Thranduil had met some of these creatures, but it was the vampires he will never forget. For it was in that one incident that his life had been changed forever.

Thranduil walked aimlessly amongst the bodies of fallen elves, orcs, and men. The elf in him couldn't stand the sight of the dead, but the monster in him cried out for more. Closing his eyes the elven king turned away and headed back the way he came. He could see the large arch leading out of Dale and the corpse of his beloved mount just in front of it. Thranduil paused a moment, trying to find the strength to move past the elk's body, when he hears a small whine. His eyes fly open desperately searching the area for the source of life. He hears it again, only some what louder, and his heart races in his ears. The elven king rushes forward and collapses down beside the elks massive head. He looks and the elk looks back at him, eyes pleading for help. Thranduil's heart soars with delight. He hadn't truly lost his great companion after all. Thranduil calls for his men and they help the elven king lift the elk onto a cart. Healers ride along with the creature, slowly tending to his wounds, as two horses led by elves pull the cart out of Dale and back home to Mirkwood. Thranduil watched them go as the Bowman approached. He could smell the man's scent long before he ever saw him. It was that scent which nearly broke him the moment the Dragon Slayer walked towards him the other day in Dale. It was stronger now, the rush of battle still lingering in his veins. Thranduil steadied himself. He had not feasted upon a human for over a thousand years and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into the human's soft flesh.

"My lord Thranduil. My people and I appreciate the aid you have given us. If we can ever return the favor please do not hesitate to call upon us here in Dale."

The man was too close, far to close now. True they had been standing this close in his tent but now, with the rush of battle and the scent of the freshly slain lingering around him, all of it seemed to be too much. Thranduil swallowed thickly, averting his gaze. He needed to leave and he needed to do it now. Nodding a quick agreement and farewell Thranduil strode swiftly out of dale, down the large walkway, and towards the horse waiting for him. The Bowman called after him, attempting to keep up with the fleeing king, but in the end he was no match. By the time he made it to the bottom of the walkway Thranduil was already mounted and heading back to Mirkwood. The Bowman sighed heavily and returned to aiding his people in the mass clean up. Thranduil slowly steadied his breathing as he rode back to his kingdom. He thought about his condition and about how the only other being who knew of it, his beloved son, was out there now exploring middle earth. Never in his life had the elven king felt so utterly vulnerable and alone. He rode onward, lost in his thoughts, until he was standing before the large twin doors of his home. Servants came and led the horse away. Thranduil walk the quiet halls ending up in his throne room. Sellion, his right hand, was there waiting for him.

"Welcome back my King. I am happy to see that you returned home unharmed."

Thranduil continued walking, heading for his private quarters. Sellion followed close behind.

"The realm has been quiet since your departure. No sight of orc or spider."

"Good. Prepare a late dinner for me and bring it up to my room. I wish to be left alone for the time being."

They had reached Thranduil's quarters just as the elven king finished giving his commands. Sellion nodded, returning the way they had just came, while Thranduil pushed open the doors to his room and strode inside. The double wood and glass doors closing softly behind him. The elven king sighed heavily. Now in the privacy of his own rooms, slowly he let his kingly demeanor slip away, revealing his overwhelming sorrow and complete exhaustion. Thranduil turned away from the door and walked further into his room, slipping his armor and robes off as he went. Pushing open a single wood and glass door the elven king was greeted by the sight of a warm steaming bath. The water flowed down the etched wall and into the large pool, the pooling water glowed slightly from the fire stones that heated it. Thranduil slowly stepped down into the water, sat down on the first landing, then laid his head back on the stone floor. The water lapped quietly at his chest. The warm water felt blissful on his aching muscles causing the elven king to sigh contently. After some time Thranduil quickly washed up then left the bath. Wrapping up in a simple robe he returned to his bedroom. Food had been brought while he was bathing. The elven king quickly ate, tossed his robe aside, then climbed into the large bed and fell quickly asleep.