A Fallen King

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All was silent in the woods of Mirkwood, all was too silent seeing how the lands were in ruins due to a fire that was started by the Orcs.

Both opponents were worthy fighters, but after the battle Erebor, Thranduil was vulnerable. Those foul orcs had partnered up with the spiders and now Mirkwood was not only a fallen kingdom like it used to be, but now it was in ruins.

That included Thranduil. But where was he? No living elf had seen him since the battle had ended. Where he was did not matter anymore. The elves left without their king, deciding that it was best to be selfish for once and flee for their lives. And so, they did.

Every elf had fled except you. You were apart of his army and had cut down an even number of both orc and spider, even after everyone was long gone. Now nothing remained but ash and bareness.

"My King!" You screamed, your voice filled with panic. King Thranduil had taken you in when you were a little girl who was dropped off at hisdoorstep. He raised you like his own daughter and to you it was as if you had just lost your father rather than a king.

"Thranduil!"

You carefully navigated your way through the piles of dead bodies, making sure as you hurried you did not step on any of them.

He was nowhere to be seen, but you refused to give up and made your way down to the river bank where blood overthrew the clear waters and bodies drifted down the river. You searched for any signs of him, but still had not found him within the water, so you traveled up stream, back to Mirkwood.

On the way there, you came across more bodies and within those bodies Thranduil laid among them. His beautiful golden hair was now stained with blood along with his pale skin. He laid on his back with his head to the side and his arm extended out.

"No!" You cried out, rushing over to him and doing your best to hold in your tears. You collapse next to him and tenderly cup his cheeks, pushing his head straight. "Thranduil! Wake up!"

As you scream at him, you feel his neck for a pulse. He's cold as ice and the worse drains over you until you feel a pulse. Relief pours through you and tears spill down your cheeks as you sniffle and smile.

"You're alive. Thank goodness you're alive."

But now is not the time to sit around and wait for help to arrive. You have to move him and restore him.

Imagines: Thranduil x Reader ❤️Where stories live. Discover now