TOLKIEN; imagines

51: Returns of Regrets and Rekindled Love - Thranduil

Part 2 to "Tears of Ache and Sorrow"

A/N: If you listen to the song that is linked above when Thranduil starts apologizing to the reader, it makes reading this a lot more dramatic, at least to me.  As always, thank you for reading and please enjoy.

Translations: mellon: friend, meleth nin: my love, guren vell: sweetheart

Warnings: Heartache towards the beginning, but extreme fluff towards the end.

Words: 2000+ (sorry)

The thousands of crimson leaves of the harvest season had now browned and fallen to the ground and the air had now become cold and unforgiving. The frozen leaves were thousands of ice sheathed knives, each one stabbing into my heart as they reminded me of the love I once lost and the love I still longed for with all of my broken heart and empty soul. The newborn child in my arms was no less of a reminder of the ellon whom with I had brought such a beautiful creation, our daughter, to life. The fairest platinum curls wreathed my daughter's head, her soft pale skin radiant in the muted winter sunlight. She was a spitting image of her father... her father... her father would have loved her with all his heart, I just know he would have.

After I had run from Thranduil that afternoon in the woods, I had come to live in Esgaroth with the only friend I had outside of Mirkwood. Esgaroth was a small, dingy town that hovered on rotting wooden beams above the cold surface of the Long Lake. Esgaroth was the closest place to home I could find without still being in the forest where my heart had perished in a flurry of pain and sorrows.

The death of my heart was a loss I still mourned for deeply.

-

Weeks went by, sleepless, painful weeks that I had spent every moment of scouring every inch of the land, searching and longing for my darling Y/N, my queen, and my child she had carried within. For weeks, I had cried myself to sleep, only to be awakened in the night by the harsh coldness of her absence, the tears returning to my eyes afterward. Weeks of a continuous routine... search, cry, sleep and cry... search, cry, sleep and cry. It was a never ending circle of grief and pain, a circle only able to be broken by the forgiveness of my Y/N, my love and my life, my exquisite star, my queen.

I would not rest till I found her. If I had to sail to Valinor to do so, I would. If I had to trek to Mordor itself, I would. I would not rest until she was found, and brought safely back into my arms.

-

The clouds that shrouded the land from the muted winter sunlight were just as dark as the murmurings in the streets of Esgaroth's Merchant's districts. As each item was traded for pieces of gold and silver, bits of the same story were traded as well, a story that told of an Elvenking coming to Esgaroth in search of his wife and his newborn child. He came for her in fury, some said. Others said in grief, and more still said in hopes of winning her back.

Any of those could have been true, although, why Thranduil would come for me at all scared me senseless. I had hurt him deeply, I knew, and why he would still love someone as "selfish" as me, was beyond my comprehension.

So, it was with this endless fear cowering in my heart and the whispers lingering not only on the tongues of merchants and customers but also in my mind, that I strolled through the streets, searching with dull eyes for thyme, basil and any other spice that would be needed for the next week's suppers.

-

I rapped twice on the old door of my friend, Faeleth's dwelling before opening the door and stepping over the threshold and into the little house, the basket in my arms sprouting with herbs of different varieties, scents, and flavors. As soon as the door was shut and locked, Faeleth's wild eyes met mine and she abandoned her cooking to rush to my side.