THE HOBBIT AND THE LORD OF THE RINGS IMAGINES AND ONESHOTS

(THRANDUIL X READER) THE GEMS OF LASGALEN

The King of the Woodland realm sighed heavily as he looked at the Lonely Mountain in the far distance. A dry wind had begun to blow that somehow wrapped his entire body in a death like chillness. He was beginning to feel that overwhelming pain that he had long suppressed and hidden behind his cold facade.

When the company of Thorin Oakenshield had been captured by his forces this morning, he had not expected them to be going on a quest to take back their homeland. This was when he realised that he could reclaim something of his own.

The gems that were supposed to adorn her features of pure starlight, now lied in the vast halls of Erebor, desecrated by a plundering dragon. He could never forgive the Dwarves for what they had done - denying him the one thing that he valued above all; her only remaining memento. However, he was willing to put aside his differences and offer his help if they would return what was rightfully his. But, it was Thorin Oakenshield that he was talking to. The Dwarf Lord had been stubborn and unrelenting, accusing him of being without honour.

He cared not for such words as they were nothing but hollow and meaningless. Everything had been hollow ever since she had left. And besides, those Dwarves were the ones who had wounded him long before the dragon had attacked the Lonely Mountain.

Thranduil closed his eyes. Those gems had brought back memories that he had desperately tried to bury underneath his burden of indifference and solitude, for almost an eternity. She had been the embodiment of beauty and elegance. She was kind, graceful, sharp and very strong. Her smiles could light the darkest depths and they had always warmed him. Her hair was softer than the finest silks ever known and the brightness in her eyes had shamed the sparkling silver cascades of Rivendell. And, they were always filled with love - for him.

They had spent countless nights together, staring at the stars and savouring each other's company. Neither of them would speak. Wrapped in each other's embrace, they would blissfully sit in the palace gardens and momentarily forget the world. Their happiness had only grown when the little elfling Legolas was born.

Thranduil felt a terrible prick in his heart and he could feel hot tears threatening to spill themselves. These happy memories were always accompanied by unbearable pain and sadness. She had been gone such a long time ago but he still felt like it was yesterday.

"Y/n," he whispered.

He wanted to cry; let his heart out and weep. But he couldn't. Only silent tears left his glistening eyes.

He suddenly became conscious of his surroundings at the sound of approaching footsteps. It was a guard. "My Lord, we were ambushed by Orcs and the Dwarves...... have escaped. Prince Legolas requests your presence in the throne room to question the Orc that he has captured."

Thranduil's back was turned towards the guard and he dismissed him by the wave of his hand. When his footsteps had died down, he wiped out all signs of emotion from his face and went into the direction taken by the guard.

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Tauriel's words stung his ears. "There is no love in you."

Thranduil stared at the ground, trying to compose himself.

In truth, he had loved like no one else had. He knew love the moment he saw her. He had drowned himself in the sea of her love, never wanting to come to the surface. When he lost her, he lost all. Hope and happiness deserted him and he was overcome with grief and bitterness. The world that was once bright and cheerful, became grey and dull. He became cold and distant; unconsciously pushing away his son in the process.

Legolas. His only son. He had been consumed by his sorrow and loss and become blind to his, to their real gem. Gandalf's words echoed in his mind as he realised - those petty gems were worthless; Legolas was the real treasure that he had to safeguard and care for. And that was exactly what Y/n would have wanted.

He took a deep breath and headed towards Ravenhill.

........................................................

The stench of death was everywhere. Thranduil made his way to the top with brisk steps, hoping that he was not too late. He came across his son in one of the passages.

"I cannot go back," Legolas softly spoke.

"Where will you go?" he asked, with tenderness.

"I do not know."

"Go north," he advised.

As his son was leaving, he gave him something precious that he had denied him all these years - his mother's memory.
"Legolas. Your mother loved you, more than anyone, more than life."

Thranduil was only able give a bow when his son slightly held out his hand to him. He knew that he was already very late.

With tearful eyes, he went further in and found Tauriel mourning for Kili. He had been wrong about her; about them. Their love was pure and beyond comprehension; just like the one that he felt.

"If this is love, I do not want it. Take it from me, please. Why does it hurt so much?" Tauriel spoke with tears and sobs.

He replied with sympathy and surety, "Because it was real."