The Tiger of Doriath
I think this is my all time favourite chapter so far. This is my first time sharing a story and ive been working on it for so long. 15 chapters as a first release day i think it pretty fair. i hope anyone who has gotten this far has enjoyed, let me know if you want more!
AI generated image of amariel and Berior
### Chapter 15: The Adventures of Amariel and Berior
Berior was no ordinary elk. That much had become apparent within the first year of Amariel’s awakening. By the time he had grown into his first year, he already stood at eye level with her, his antlers broad and proud, larger than any found in the Greenwood. Keeping him was no easy task, but for Amariel, the joy he brought far outweighed the trouble.
#### **Berior and the Market Mishap**
The trouble began with the market.
One fateful afternoon, Amariel had taken Berior to the marketplace, where he was supposed to stand patiently by her side. That was the plan, at least. Instead, the elk had taken a great interest in a fruit stall. With a flick of his great head, he had sent apples and pears scattering across the cobbled road, prompting the vendor to shout in dismay. Amariel, mortified, tried to contain him, but Berior was determined to enjoy his newfound feast.
“I will pay for the damage!” Amariel cried over the vendor’s complaints.
From a few stalls away, Thranduil watched, arms crossed and face betraying his amusement. When Amariel turned to him for help, he merely raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you could handle him?”
“Not when he’s decided the entire market is his personal grazing field!”
Finally, Thranduil strode forward and placed a firm hand on Berior’s side. With a few quiet Elvish words, the elk relented, stepping away from the ruined stall. Amariel, breathless and embarrassed, glared at Thranduil.
“You could have helped sooner.”
“I was enjoying the show.”
#### **Berior and Eluvian’s Training Grounds**
Eluvian was not amused when Berior trampled into the training grounds. The elk had grown fond of Amariel’s father in a peculiar way—he often followed him, though his presence in military training was entirely unwelcome.
One morning, as Eluvian was drilling soldiers, a sudden disruption arose from the sidelines. Berior, attempting to mimic the warriors, galloped straight through the formations, sending elves stumbling over themselves. Weapons clattered to the ground as soldiers tried to dodge the enormous creature weaving between them with alarming agility.
“AMARIEL!” Eluvian’s voice thundered across the field.
Amariel rushed in, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh as she witnessed her dignified father attempting to discipline an elk. Berior flicked his tail and lowered his head as if ashamed, though his bright eyes betrayed the mischief beneath.
“I swear this creature is a menace,” Eluvian muttered, rubbing his temples.
“He just wants to be a warrior, Ada.” Amariel grinned, patting Berior’s side.
Eluvian groaned but said nothing as Berior trotted off, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
#### **Berior and Vanimelda’s Garden**
No one was safe from Berior’s antics—not even Vanimelda.
She prided herself on her garden, the delicate balance of beauty and order she maintained in it. But one morning, she found half her flowerbeds in disarray, hooves imprinted in the damp earth. Berior stood nearby, chewing on a particularly vibrant bouquet.
“Amariel.” Her mother’s voice was calm. Too calm.
“Yes, Nana?”
“Would you care to explain why my roses are currently being devoured?”
Amariel turned slowly, suppressing a laugh as she watched Berior look up, a petal sticking from his lips. He chewed slowly, as if trying to appear innocent.
Vanimelda sighed, rubbing her temples. “Of all the creatures, my daughter, you had to bond with the most troublesome one.”
“He has exquisite taste,” Amariel offered, attempting to keep her face straight.
Vanimelda gave her a withering look before walking away. Amariel swore she saw her mother hide a small smile as she went.
#### **Berior and Thranduil’s Unwavering Defense**
No matter how much trouble Berior caused, there was one thing Amariel could always count on—Thranduil would defend him. He had never seen Amariel as happy as she was when she was with Berior, and for that alone, he would allow no complaints.
One evening, after yet another one of Berior’s escapades, a few elves in the camp muttered about how he was more trouble than he was worth. Amariel heard them, her expression darkening, but before she could respond, Thranduil stepped forward.
“This elk stays,” he declared, his voice carrying through the gathering. “Any who think otherwise may speak to me directly.”
The complaints ceased immediately. No one wished to argue with the prince.
Amariel looked at Thranduil, gratitude shining in her eyes. “You always defend him.”
“I always defend you,” he corrected, offering her a small, knowing smile.
---
As the year passed, Berior continued to grow, his presence a constant source of joy and chaos in Amariel’s life. But no matter how much trouble he caused, he had given her something she had long thought lost—laughter, warmth, and healing.
For the first time since the fall of Doriath, Amariel felt whole again.
