I am the Fire: Thranduil and Elleth reader fanfiction

Chapter 1

Hi again! This is my second attempt at writing fanfiction so I hope you guys like it.

Like my last one, I need to say in case of copy-writing stuff: Thranduil and any other characters from the Hobbit that I may mention are not my creations. I wish they were but we can thank J.R.R Tolkien for making them (except for Tauriel, for which Peter Jackson can be thanked). ^-^ 

Also, I got inspiration for the reader's character from a Halestorm song called I am the Fire. (They are one of my favourite bands!) I'll link it to this chapter in case anyone wants to listen to it. Bye for now! :)

June 2015

2 hours ago

Clouds of fear were quickly covering the once cheerful blue sky. You knew then how unprepared for battle the people of Lake-town were. As you looked out to your left, you could see both dwarves, humans and elves facing one another, ready to rip the enemy of their glory and to claim all the mountain riches to themselves. It was then that the Earth started to shake. It was then the once stable ground became a quaking riot. It was then that Earthworms surged forward, from under the ground and into the light. This was now the Battle of the Five Armies.

Hearts like drum beats echoed throughout the land, their tempos increasing with each step forward the enemy took towards them. Then, there was you. Unafraid of orcs, as this was not your first encounter with them. Under Bard's orders however, you were to stay hidden, away from what was going to be a 'dangerous battle'. As one of the female citizens of Lake Town, he wanted you to protect the children and stay out of harm's way. But since when did you miss all the action? Being an elleth originally from Mirkwood, you knew how to defend yourself and more importantly, others. You trained for many years so you could join the Mirkwood guards, but that dream was axed when your father was killed during a spider attack whilst on duty. It scarred your mother so much that she took you away from your homeland and into the welcoming arms of Lake-town; where she then started to teach you how to heal instead. From then on, you have made friends with countless amounts of families through their generations, including Bard.

Quickly, you paced forward. Wearing not only beautiful handcrafted armour that was tailored for you by an old friend, but also a masquerade mask to conceal your identity. It also made you stand out from the crowd, which was something you loved to do. The armour was specially designed so you could move freely and more flexibly than most armour would usually allow you to, yet to be able to do this, the armour couldn't cover you entirely. That didn't matter to you though, as you were sure that you would notice the enemy approaching a mile off. Since when have orcs been quiet anyway?

Finally, you arrived at the battlefield, only a small distance away from the fighting. Taking a few steady breaths, you prepare yourself mentally for the battle. Singing lyrics of motivation in your head, you jumped out from behind your temporary hiding place and dart forward into battle. Your dark maroon and khaki green armour reflected the sun rays perfectly, so you look fierce yet elegant.

Now

The battle is taking a turn for the worst. Many elves, dwarfs and humans are dying and you cannot reach them all in time to heal them, let alone fight as well. It was no longer a battle for glory, but a battle to survive. As you finish healing an elf, you direct him away from the battle to rest so he can regain his strength. However, in the process, you notice a beautiful, majestic elk, falling to the floor. It hurts you to see animals getting slaughtered in war; as you believed it was an act of unfairness and cruelty to use animals, against their will, to fight another species' battles. You desperately want to run over and heal it, but there are a crowd of orcs surrounding the poor beast. However, amongst the crowd of unsightly orcs, you snag a glimpse of something. Something which catches you completely off-guard. There, before your eyes, is the king of Mirkwood. They were surrounding him, not the elk. Without a second thought, you briskly stride towards the filth, mercilessly killing them.

You cannot help but notice his beautiful, platinum blonde hair, floating around his muscular physique as he fights. Yet, it is his icy blue eyes that unknowingly entice you to stare. Nevertheless, you cannot spend much time gazing upon him as you have a plethora of orcs to slay. Surprisingly, you are not the only one guilty of getting distracted. Thranduil is taking every opportunity to glance over at you as you weave between the growing piles of dead bodies by your feet, avoiding the enemies' attacks. 

Before you know it, there is only one orc left standing from the pack that brought down the King's elk. "Allow me" you hear his silky voice say as he glides forward and beheads the isolated orc. After feeling the satisfaction from his revenge on those who slayed his Elk, the king turns to face you. Instinctively, you lower your head in respect for the king, who was once the young prince of the realm you used to live in thousands of years ago.

"Who are you?" There are hints of curiosity in his majesty's voice, but still it sounds like a command. "I am no one of importance lord Thranduil. I am a villager of Lake-town who does not hide from battle." You reply, standing tall and confident, in spite of hoping he does not interrogate you further. "Except you are not human. You are of my kin. A Mirkwood elleth?" He states slowly as he approaches you. "How else would you have... acquired, this sort of armour?" "Yes, I am of elven blood your highness. A friend of mine made this armour for me when I used to live in Mirkwood."

"So, why might an elleth, like you, now live in Lake-town? And why hide your face? Is there a reason for wearing a mask, made with obviously no protective material?" All these questions ignite the memories you were hoping to forget. You hear your father's battle for breath. Your mother's screams of sorrow. The sounds of swords, slashing the silent, spindly killers within Mirkwood's forest. Flashbacks plague your mind until you hear Thranduil roar "Orcs!". Dazed, you turn quickly, expecting the filth to be behind you. When in reality, they are a long distance away; armed with bows and arrows. Suddenly, you feel Thranduil forcefully push you away, sending you to the ground behind a pile of orc corpses. Without a choice, you watch as you are flying backwards the shower of arrows crash down like lightning, upon where you were standing only seconds ago, with Thranduil crouching in the midst of them.