LotR Imagines & Preferences

Imagine ~ Thranduil

He finds you curled up in roots of a tree.

There's something about you that he senses, that even the spiders in the darkness of the Mirkwood Forest sensed.

Your arms are burned severely and your hair singed to your ears, which, he noted, weren't pointed.

He sheathes his sword and kneels next to you. He smells dragon's breath strongly and quickly understands the burns. When you don't stir at his touch, he scoops you up and brings you back to the palace.

Over the next few days, you're nursed back to health.

When you come to, your surprised to see the Elvenking dabbing a wet rag on your forehead.

"Where am I?" you ask in a hoarse voice.

"Shh," he says softly. "You are in Mirkwood. I found you in the woods."
It all comes back to you, the dragon and the fire. You look at your arms to see them wrapped up in heavy bandages. You lift an aching arm to your head where you feel your neck. There's a thin bandage and short hair.

Over the next few weeks, King Thranduil nurses you back to health by his own hand. No one, not even his son, Legolas, understands why he won't let anyone else come in.

You slowly fall in love with him, but you too fail to understand his kindness.

"King Thranduil, why are you doing this for me?" you ask him while you eat the cool soup that was made for you. Your throat is still sensitive from the smoke inhalation.

He's quiet for a moment before getting up, turning from your view.

"Because I too have suffered from the wrath of a dragon," he says quietly.

You look at him curiously as he takes a deep breath. When he faces you again, his normally beautiful face is deeply scarred on one side.

You stare at him for a moment.

"How do you hide it?" you ask finally.

"Illusion," Thranduil explains. You watch as his face transforms back and he looks at you with slight insecurity.

"Why?"

"I'm a king, I can't very well have half my face look like an goblin's," he says.

"I think it shows that you've been through tough things too. And maybe if you let more people see that side of you, people wouldn't be as intimidated by you," you say then yawn. "Excuse me."

"Sleep now, flower," he says, using the nickname he came up with for you. He takes the bowl from your hands and as you close your eyes, he kisses your forehead. He takes his normal place beside your bed, ready for the nightmares that may come to haunt you in the night.