I am the Fire: Thranduil and Elleth reader fanfiction

Chapter 3

Narrator:

Thunk. The arrow hits its target. Bard brings down the orc with great precision. Not any old orc, but the troublesome enemy that was shooting at his two elvish friends. He then peers down, searching for an explanation as to why this orc was so far away from the masses of humans, elves and dwarves. Within seconds he understands why.

Silence now reigns. Time slows down, almost stopping, as Bard and Thranduil watch the fearless warrior fall in slow motion. The once confident, almost cocky king of Mirkwood is now flustered and perturbed. His emotion barricades have just been blown to smithereens. As soon as he observes her now fragile figure falling, he jumps into rescue mode, breaking her fall with his strong, muscular arms. Bard could only gaze in astonishment however when he sees the elleth fall to the arms of the quick reacting King. With haste, Bard runs over so he can help remove the arrows protruding out of her. It was only a matter of time until he would realise that this was no stranger, but a dear and loyal friend of his.

You:

For a moment or two you become unconscious as the poison is spreading quickly. But you fight the urge to close your eyes, not wanting to give in so easily. As your weak eyes flicker open, you are greeted by a worried elven king, unmasking your once hidden face. Now the world could see you. There is nothing to hide behind. Then, the person who you were trying so hard to avoid appears at your side. Bard. "(y-n) why are you here? I told you to stay hidden, away from the battle!" Bard says in a worried tone. Yet he cannot find it within him to be angry with you currently because of your seriously injured state. Drowsily, you search for their eyes, but you seldom connect with theirs. "We need to get these arrows out of her now!" Bard commands, gaining an eye roll from the king, as Thranduil has already picked you up carefully and is making his way over to an area that is hidden away from the enemies' searching eyes. "Well that is my intention", the king explains. But you can hear nothing of what they are saying. All your attention is on your drooping eyelids.

In an attempt to make you feel more comfortable, the king manoeuvres some sharp, jagged rocks with the sides of his feet before lying you down gently whilst Bard lifts your head up slightly, slipping his coat underneath to act as a temporary pillow. During all this, time starts to slow and your vision begins to fade again. Yet somehow you have managed to forget. How could you forget? You have been hit thrice. Has Thranduil really managed to distract you from reality again? 

Staggered breaths take a hold of your body, struggling to stay calm as you think your body will not win this battle. "Place some timber over (y/n)'s ankles, if she struggles whilst the arrows are removed, her skin will tear further", the king directs Bard in an assertive tone. Yet his command does not comfort you. It is undeniable that the arrows need to be removed, but the idea of going through any more pain right now is not to your liking. What you need right now is something which will numb the pain. Nevertheless, time is not on your side. It flies quicker than the cursed arrows which struck you. These arrows need to be removed as soon as possible. Seconds later, you feel a heavy wooden plank squash your ankles to the ground, making it impossible for you to kick your legs free. "Now hold her shoulders down whilst I focus" states the king. Although his voice holds no signs of emotion, you feel like the King cares for you a little more than he is letting on. Especially due to the fact that he is trying to stop you from dying. Right now he could be saving others out on the battlefield, or slaying the wretched orcs. Yet in spite of all this, he is helping you. Not forgetting Bard, he is helping too. Nonetheless, it had become common knowledge that Bard cares for you a little more than a friend would, but it is also common knowledge that these feelings are not mutual. You love him, but only as a friend. "Ready?" the king breaks through your thoughts with his question whilst Bard holds your shoulders to the floor, nodding to Thranduil. "My question was not directed at you" the king states, with annoyance tainting his words. With venomous poison flowing through your bloodstream, you manage to weakly nod in response. But when you feel one of the arrows move slightly inside your flesh, your stomach churns turbulently, forcing you to screw your eyes shut and clench your jaw, silencing any whimpers that are threatening to escape your lips. "Do not hesitate! Pull them out now!" Bard instructs, small hints of anger ringing through his now breaking voice. Only now can you tell that Bard is trying to hold back tears. 

Suddenly, your back jolts upwards as the first arrow is uprooted, only to be pushed to the ground and kept firmly in place by Bard. You barely manage to refrain from moaning but when you feel the next one leave you, only seconds after the first one, you cry out in agony. However, when the king goes to reach for the last damned arrow, he notices the difference in appearance, instantly realising it is poisonous, even though this was no news to you. Thus, taking even more caution than before, he wraps a piece of cloth over his hand and draws the deadly arrow out, careful to not remove it from a different angle. After throwing the arrow aside, he swiftly starts to heal you. With the melodic chants slowly sending you into a tranquil, peaceful slumber, you vaguely hear Bard ask "Will she make it?" "Only time will tell. Take her body to where the children of Lake-town are concealed." 

Carefully, Bard lifts you up and carries you to where the children of Lake Town are hiding. Whereas the king proceeds to find his army. After being reassured by his daughters Sigrid and Tilda that they will not leave you, Bard returns to the raging battle.

To be continued.

Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter and I hope that you have a wonderful weekend!