Roi De Rêve [Thranduil fanfiction]

Chapter two (Edited)

Eleanor's POV

The ellon was Thranduil. The most handsome and the most beautiful elf in the whole Middle-Earth. "Who are you and what do you think you're doing in my realm?" Thranduil asked coldly. "Goheno nin, hîr vuin. Im Eleanor. I'm looking for a place to get a bath, a map and clothes" I answered. I looked up and saw the elven army was very small and many of the soldiers were wounded. I moved my gaze back to Thranduil. "Where are you from, Eleanor?" He asked again. This is a bad question. What do I say? "I'm from a small village nearby the sea of Rhûn" I just made up something that came to my mind. To be honest I'm not even sure if there is any villages near the sea of Rhûn. I hope there is. "How come you can speak Sindarin?" Another bad question. "Û-iston, hîr vuin" Well, being a Tolkien fan, I can speak Sindarin. I also can speak Quenya, but only a little. "Aphado nin. Gwaem!"  Thranduil yelled. 

We walked an hour or so and my feet started to feel sore. I haven't walked this long in ages. "Prestad?" Thranduil asked. "Û, hîr vuin. My feet just hurt". I answered. Suddenly I didn't feel the ground anymore. I was lifted and within seconds I was sitting on a giant elk. "Av-'osto, Eleanor", he said not so coldly this time. I know the reason he is so coldhearted. He fell in love under the starlight. The starlight the wood-elves so greatly love. But soon he realized that some stars don't shine forever. His wife had died in Gundabad fighting for his son. I know by Thranduil's look that it happened not so long ago. Eyes so lost, not knowing where to watch. Heart so desperately trying not to show any emotion. Trying to fix it. I could fix it. Not now and not tomorrow. But with time.

Thranduil's POV

This elleth wasn't an ordinary elf. The way she spoke elvish. I have heard the way before. She spoke softly, not showing fear. Vowels came out of her mouth like warm wind in the summer. She reminded me of her. My beautiful wife. I loved her unconditionally. But then came orcs. Only one slash of silver blade and there she lied, on the ground, the love of my life. I couldn't do nothing for it. Even Elrond couldn't do anything.

Eleanor was almost asleep. Her head rested by my chest. I didn't feel uncomfortable, but I didn't like the way she woke feelings in my heart so deeply harden. I didn't like that a unknown elleth, make me feel something. The only one that I accepted to make me feel something was my son. Legolas was now 23. Man would say he is three years old. He is quite stubborn child and loves to bustle around in the woods. He wants me to braid his hair like her mother used to. I refuse everytime. I don't want to do things that remind me of her. Haven't I suffered enough?

Hello folks! Happy new year!

Hope you like this chapter. It's very short but I will continue straight away.

Feel free to comment and vote

-Sara

Translations:

Goheno nin, hîr vuin. Im Eleanor = I'm sorry, my lord. I am Eleanor

Û-iston, hîr vuin = I don't know, my lord

Aphado nin. Gwaem = Come with me. Let's go!

 Prestad? = Is there trouble?

Û, hîr vuin = No, my lord

 Av-'osto, Eleanor = Don't be afraid Eleanor