TOLKIEN; imagines

50: Tears of Ache and Sorrow - Thranduil

For mchllbrtls : May I request a more sad one with our dear Thrandy where he and the reader have a heated argument and it results in the reader leaving?

A/N: This is part 1/2. I know that the second part was not requested and that the conflict requested was not asked to be resolved, but I can't just leave this fan fiction where it ends, therefore part 2 was needed. Also, I didn't proof read this too thoroughly so if there are any mistakes, please politely let me know. Thanks, and please enjoy!

Abbreviations: H/C: hair color,

Translations: meleth nin, my love. 

Warnings: heartbreak, insults to reader, angry Thranduil

Words: 2380

The warm hues that graced the leafy petioles upon the trees' thin finger-like branches had finally returned to Mirkwood's great forests at the first caress of autumn. The southerly summer breezes began to originate rather in a more northerly direction, the swiftness of those winds increasing noticeably as the considerable warmth of the summer breezes turned cold and arid, and the sunlight growing ever golden as the shadow's of Arda's inhabitants stretched to unmatched lengths with the sinking of the sun.

The commencement of all those tell-tale attributes gave way to a lightening of my mood and a warming of my spirit, for they marked a change in the overly warm, moist weather that accompanied the summer months into the colder, more comely season of harvest.

It was not so long ago that I had strolled peaceably through the maturing forests with my lovely husband, King Thranduil. There was a certain location, hidden within the depths of the foliage, not far from the reach of the halls of my home, where I always used to go to free a bit of myself. It was there I could allow my soul to run unburdened among the beautiful foliage, where I had enjoyed moments that still remained sweet in memory, where I had relished in the undying, unconditional love my husband had for me.

But sadly, those fond memories had taken place before the infestation of spiders, orcs and the like, before the spirit of the forest grew heavy under the burden of the increasing evils that had begun to possess every form of vegetation within the forest's boundaries, before Greenwood the Great took on a more infamous, unflattering title, Mirkwood. Mirkwood, whose decaying, morbid trees held an unwanted, sinister aura that not even its inhabitants wanted to gaze upon. Now, the forest, and that perfectly serene locale that I longed to see, was infested with horrors not fit for the eyes of the Queen of Mirkwood, or so Thranduil had said when he forbade me to wander the woods that laid just beyond the walls of Mirkwood's palace, when he precluded any of the melancholic spirits of the residing elves from returning to the woodland that had served as our home as well as our comfort all those years ago.

If only I could make my way past the multitude of guards who swarmed the halls in pairs... oh if only I could escape! Perhaps then I could take pleasure in the varying shades of leaves and grasses and shrubberies that made up my desired destination, if only for a brief time, if only for a moment. I could make my fleeting departure after my daily, midday meetings with my beloved Thranduil, in which we would feast on whatever Mirkwood's cooks provided for luncheon and return before dinner. And provided that my ever diligent husband would be rendered useless to me in a meeting with the incompetent imbeciles that made up his council between those two periods, it would never come to his knowledge that I had disobeyed his orders and made my way outside of the safety of his kingdom's halls.

But then, as my thin fingered hand drifted to my swollen abdomen, the ever present danger I would be putting myself and the child that grew within me in returned to my conscience, making my spirits dip ever lower.