Tumblr : mismaeve
The Gift, Thranduil Oropherion x Fem!Elf Reader
Word Count: 7.9k
Warnings: angst, mentions of death and dead bodies, blood and slight gore, injury
Prompt: "Have you no regrets?"
Summary: Another war is slowly consuming Middle-Earth, and the Greenwood elves find themselves defending it against the evil forces.
***
I pray you can forgive me for I should have waited.
The general slowly moved across the battleground, wrinkling her nose slightly at the sight of dead orc carcasses. Her eyes drifted to a couple of her soldiers piling up orcs to be burned. It wasn't right, all this devastation and pain, all this death. Y/N's footsteps grew slower until they came to a halt, and the general took a deep breath. The rancid air burned in her lungs and for a moment she felt sick to her stomach. The nature of war wasn't lost on her yet to live through it was another matter entirely. Y/N allowed her mind to drift as her eyes wandered over the blood-soaked grounds. It saddened her greatly to see the lifeless bodies of her valiant soldiers among the corpses of orc filth. A misty veil fell upon her eyes as the elf general mourned her fallen kin. What a waste, what a gruesome waste this was. They didn't belong here any more than she did, yet to march and defend Middle-Earth from everlasting darkness and evil had been their duty, and they had been called upon. And so, they had left the safety of Greenwood to venture South to engage the enemy on the East front.
A lone tear was working its way down Y/N's pale cheek while she stood frozen, either unable or unwilling to move. We shouldn't be here, my sweet. Many of her kin had fallen but not enough to weaken the company in her command. Still, it pained her greatly as her eyes moved from one fallen elf to another, making her heart ache unbearably. She knew each and every one of them personally, she knew their families and she had shared many a meal with them. They had been her friends, her family. Her sole responsibility was to keep them safe, to shield them from horrors such as war, yet it had been her to lead them here to their demise. They didn't belong here, they shouldn't be left here to rot among the dead ranks of their enemy, they deserved better. She owed them better, she owed them the same respect and dignity they had always treated her with.
"Redhedir," Y/N called out softly to the young elf soldier who was currently overseeing the build of another corpse pile to be burned.
"My lady?" the dark-haired elf was quick to make his way over to where she was standing.
"Gather however many you need to cover the ground in search of our fallen. I want all of them brought home to Greenwood to be buried with dignity and love," the general's voice was gentle and calm, even though rage was fuming inside her. As most elves, she was quite accomplished at keeping her composure, so much so that even her king saw attempting to read her as a challenge at times. She was excellent at masking her thoughts and emotions whenever she wished for them to remain private. Yet now she found herself struggling to do so, the wasted lives of her people weighing her down and shooting sparks to an already burning anger.
"Of course," Redhedir offered her a curt nod before hurrying off. Y/N's gaze went back to the freshly made heap of orcs awaiting to be set afire. The general allowed herself to scoff quietly under her breath, it was more than this filth deserved. Even leaving them on the ground to rot was too good for them. Y/N knew it was her grief and anger talking now, just as she knew that they would double back eventually to clear the fields of all signs of war and death. It was against their nature to let something as foul as rotting orc flesh to stain and spoil the ground they walked on and the fields which brought them sustenance.
We nurture and we preserve, that is what we are tasked with. We do not paint this land red lightly, remember that always.
The general cast one last glance over the crimson spotted field littered with corpses before turning on her heel and heading towards the edge of the forest. Her mare was stood beneath the trees just on the outskirts of the woods. At the sight of her master approaching, the mare's dark nostrils flared, and the animal gave a low neigh, as if to greet her master upon her return.
"Elenath mellonen," Y/N greeted her loyal companion, her hand going to stroke the mare's long and muscular neck. She was a dark dapple-grey, thus earning her the name "all the stars of heaven" because of the thousand small white and light grey spots that covered her otherwise dark flanks and shoulders, and the length of her back. Elenath was a unique beauty but much like her master, she was also highly spirited and at times temperamental. Y/N hummed an ancient Elvish lullaby to soothe her companion while her fingers rubbed and massaged the animal's neck, reaching higher and higher until they intertwined with Elenath's long and dark mane.
"Do you miss our home too?" Y/N murmured as her own heart filled with horrible longing. They had marched from the safety and comfort of Greenwood months ago, yet the end of this war was nowhere near in sight. The Elvish general leaned her forehead against her mare's shoulder, allowing her mind to drift back to home. She thought about the Great Hall, always filled with laughter and cheerful banter while everyone helped themselves to whatever delicious dish was being served. Y/N longed for the illuminated pathways weaving throughout the forest of their homeland, she longed for the sounds of birds, perching on high and low branches just outside her windows, gifting her with the privilege of their songs. She longed for the intricate hallways, so beautifully and masterfully crafted. But most of all, she longed for her husband and his touch, their blissful nights together when they would be alone in their chambers. What would he say if he knew? Y/N couldn't help but send a prayer to the Valar that this war soon come to an end for she has been deprived of her husband's love for far too long. There were no words, neither in Westron or Elvish, nor ancient Dwarvish, to describe the longing Y/N felt for her husband. At times it became utterly unbearable, making the general struggle to even fill her lungs with air. It felt as if her body was slowly dying without the touch of her king, her husband, her lover. She was a withering flower on a blood-soaked field, desperately trying to survive against all odds.
"Hiril nîn!" just as Y/N was about to lose herself to her torment and longing, Morfindaer's urgent call beckoned her back to this world. She untangled her fingers from Elenath's mane and watched as the young elf was dismounting his charger. He looked rather flushed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he hastily approached his queen.
"Catch your breath, Morfindaer," she spoke to the young elf soldier who gratefully bowed his head and allowed himself a moment to regain his composure.
"Our scouts have sighted the king's forces, they're setting up camp just over that ridge over there," Y/N's eyes followed Morfindaer's pointed finger to the ridge not too far from where they were located now. A warm sensation began like a soft and pleasant stream, taking course through her veins and invigorating her entire being just at the mere thought of seeing her beloved again after all these months. Perhaps it was time. Y/N closed her eyes as a hopeful smile was slowly beginning to decorate her features. As the Elvish queen opened her mouth to voice her joy over this happily unexpected news, she was interrupted by the sound of their horn signaling the return of their riders. A company of five were galloping towards their queen and general, their horses' hooves unearthing dirt in all directions in their wake. They were making full haste towards her, making Y/N wonder if something had happened. Perhaps their scouts had sighted more orc filth in their vicinity but surely, they would have sounded the horn to indicate that the enemy was near, and they ought to get ready. Or perhaps they were rushing to bring her the news of something befalling her husband, their king. As soon as that dreadful thought entered her mind, Y/N forced it out. She would not entertain any such grim notions unless she knew for certain.
"My lady, we bring word from lord Thranduil. We are to unite our forces at their encampment as soon as possible," Calemen, the second oldest of the five riders informed her upon their arrival. Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, utter relief washing over her bones and flesh alike. He had sent for them, for her. Unknowingly so, he has sent for you as well.
"Then we must not keep our king waiting," when she spoke, she was the same strong and capable general she had been only moments ago when her swords had slashed through orc ranks like they were nothing. As Y/N took hold of Elenath's reins and moved to mount her, a very secret yet happy tear was slowly running its course down her cheek. Her soul would no longer be withering with longing, a breath of life was so near she could almost taste it. Soon, my darling. Tonight.
"Have our wounded mounted on horses for the journey. Prepare the wagons, we will bring our dead with us for now," Y/N instructed from her horse as she adjusted her seat.
"Morfindaer, gather our forces, we are to march as soon as the wagons are loaded and horses ready," her voice sounded her orders in a gentle yet subtly stern manner. The dark-haired elf offered her a quick nod before mounting his horse to go forward her orders to the rest of their remaining host. It was very trying to maintain a calm exterior when all Y/N could feel was utter excitement. Surely the others felt similarly, after all, Thranduil's company consisted of their friends and brothers, fathers and sons. Soon, all of them would be reunited, a thought which filled the general's heart and soul with warmth, for they were finally presented with a ray of light in their otherwise never-ending darkness and gloom.
With a watchful eye, Y/N followed the movements of her host, readying their horses and helping the wounded soldiers mount them. It pained her to see the pain written all over their features as they clutched at their wounds, blood running through their fingers and staining their neatly polished armour. She wished she could relieve their pain, she wished she could do more for them. For you. Y/N wished she could simply bring all her people home to Greenwood where they would remain safe, away from all this terror and in the hands of their skilled healers. Some of them had followed them from home, to tend to their wounded yet not enough, and their supplies were slowly beginning to run short.
"Calemen, is there any word from lord Elrond?" Y/N asked the blonde elf mounted on his horse beside her, the both of them overseeing the host preparing to march.
"Not as far as I know, hiril nîn," there was sadness in his eyes as they found hers. He didn't say but Y/N was sure he knew why she would inquire about lord Elrond. Elrond was a gifted and an accomplished healer, having taught the art of healing to many of the Rivendell elves. Elves that they now sorely needed.
"There might be news of him at the camp," Y/N suggested in hopes of reassuring the elf next to her.
"Shall I ride ahead and find out, my lady?" Calemen asked, grasping the reins more firmly in his hands, ready to hurry off as soon as told. Y/N shook her head gently, offering the eager elf rider a soft smile.
"No, that won't be necessary," Calemen nodded at her words and Y/N saw his hands relax, the previously tightly held reins now resting loosely in his long and slim fingers.
It wasn't long before the field before her eyes was cleared of the deceased elves, their bodies carefully and gently put in wagons to be brought with them to their king. Y/N's eyes darkened as she cast them over the remains of the enemy's army. Where the foul creatures had cut down one of hers, her courageous warriors had cut down many a tenfold of theirs until every last orc had been slain. And the price they had paid for this victory, much like the one before and the one before that, was laying in their horse-drawn wagons. None of their triumphs had been entirely sweet, all of them bittersweet at best. Y/N paid her last respects to the place where many of her subjects had fallen and spilled their life's blood in the name of everlasting peace, before nudging her mare forward with the gentle press of her heels. They would march in formation, Y/N at the helm of her army followed by a handful of those second in command closely behind her. She had chosen to have the wagons follow before the fighting soldiers, for she believed they deserved the honour of being at the head of their host for the invaluable sacrifice they had made in her name. It was only behind the wagons carrying their dead, that the actual host would follow. Her wounded would be in the middle of their formation surrounded by the able and the strong for protection in case they had a run in with the enemy whilst making their way around the mountain ridge. As their company began moving, the elf general sent yet another silent prayer to the Valar. Make it so that we may make our journey safely in peace for much that was dear we have lost already.
ㅤ
As the first stars of evening rose high in the light-pink sky, Y/N ordered her host to a halt. They had been on the move for the better part of the day, and now that the light was slowly fading, it was time for them to rest. Although the wounded elves carried brave faces, Y/N sensed the state of pain and discomfort they were in. They needed tending, food and water, and a moment's rest before they pressed further on towards Thranduil's camp.
"Make sure the wounded are tended and fed," Y/N kept her voice low when giving her orders to the elves flanking her on both sides. Whether it was the waning light or a sense of foreboding, she could not tell, but she knew she did not wish to attract any more attention to their being here than they already had. The general's eyes continuously scanned their surroundings, wanting to memorise every detail in case her host had to respond to an assault or flee from one they could not fend off. As the last light of day vanished from sight and darkness began its slow and menacing descent on the Elvish queen and her host, everything around them got eerily quiet.
"Are we to set up camp, hiril nîn?" Calemen's voice seemed several leagues away, the uncanny silence having a deafening effect on her senses.
"Lau," Y/N shook her head and closed her eyes.
"My lady-," Calemen started but was immediately silenced by his queen.
"Shhhh," she needed to listen, something felt strangely amiss. Y/N knew something was wrong or about to go wrong. As hard as she tried to listen, she couldn't hear a thing save for the muffled sounds in the background made by her people. Something is terribly wrong. There were no signs of birds or any other animals for that matter. It felt like everything all of a sudden had frozen still. Too still to her liking. The longer she listened, the more uneasy she became, her body signalling her to remain alert. Something is coming. Y/N felt the cool evening breeze in her hair and on her skin, breathing it in, the general grimaced in distaste. The air bore a foul smell that burned like fire inside her lungs. Her heart sunk for she knew this particular scent rather well, it had become their constant companion, following them everywhere they went. The smell of death and destruction. While remaining in her trance-like state, Y/N felt her fingers reach for her sword. I will keep you safe.
Her eyes flew open at the sound of their horns somewhere in the near distance. Their scouts were signalling them that they had spotted their enemy. Soon after the first blast, more joined in, meaning only one thing. They were surrounded and the enemy was closing in on them like a hungry predator ready to tear them apart and devour their flesh. As if to announce their arrival, the air filled with the malicious howls of wargs.
"Quickly, have the wagons pulled inside the forest for concealment, with any luck they won't go looking there if we keep them occupied here," Y/N was quick to give her orders, there was no time to be wasted, not when they were caught off guard in the dark.
"What of the wounded? They are in no state to fight," Calemen's voice gave away his fear. Not for himself, not of dying but his fear for those who had been left weak and vulnerable.
"Form ranks around our wounded!" Y/N's commanding voice sounded all around them, making her soldiers gather around swiftly.
"Ready your bows!" the general bellowed her order and watched as her skilled archers sprinted to their positions. While Y/N's host formed their lines and came together in formation, Elenath was getting restless, unable to stay still the mare was pawing the ground. It was meaningless to even attempt calming her now, Y/N was convinced the intelligent creature between her legs knew she would soon charge at enemy lines.
They could hear the shrieks and cries of orcs rushing towards them. Rushing to their death, the general thought in defiance as they waited for the confrontation, her archers ready to rain fire upon the evil creatures nearing them. There will be no mercy for the wicked. Soon the night would be filled with the clash of swords and cries of agony. Even though this could very well be the night of her demise, Y/N felt strangely calm. Her heart wasn't racing, her breath was steady. The Elvenqueen was at the head of her army, ready and determined to lead her people to another victory. In the name of Greenwood and their king, they will hold their ground. Give me strength to shield us from this evil.
"Hold the lines," her voice carried her strength and power when she addressed her warriors for one last time before all mayhem broke loose.
"Protect our weak," Y/N continued, her eyes slowly and steadily moving from one elf soldier to another, engraving their faces into her heart should this night claim any of their lives.
"No prisoners," her tone took to a more threatening note as if to emphasise her message.
"We may be surrounded and at a disadvantage, but we will endure," the general's voice rose as her fingers clutched the hilt of her sword, pulling it from its sheath and raising it high above her.
"Send these creatures back to hell!" Y/N's voice rumbled into the night at the same time as Elenath reared up on her hind legs pawing the air. The good will prevail tonight.
"Leithio i phillin!" she shouted and pointed her sword in the direction of their enemy.
ㅤ
The booming roar of the mountain troll shattered the night like thunder. It pierced Y/N's ears making the elf wince in pain. Shooting a quick glance over the field, she soon saw that their numbers were dwindling rapidly, they would not be able to fend off an assault of this magnitude. The orcs were mounted on wargs with several grown mountain trolls amongst their ranks. It was an uphill battle they were fighting, and they were losing. They needed aid but she didn't dare send a rider out to Thranduil's camp to ask for reinforcements, it was too risky. It was likely that the lone rider would be run down by wargs and torn to pieces. Another thundering roar brought her attention back to the battle and just in time as the queen immediately noticed a warg charging towards her, mouth open with baring teeth, ready to swallow her whole and send her to the darkest pit of hell. She gripped the hilt of her sword tighter just as the overgrown wolf leaped towards her, crashing into her and Elenath like a tumbling wall of stone. Elenath could not withstand the force with which they were struck, making the mare and rider alike go down. Y/N had driven her sword into the warg's thick skull as they had collided, the beast's heavy body landing on top of her as she struck ground. There was a crack and instant pain, sending an agonising shockwave throughout her body. No. Please. She struggled to catch her breath, the impact of the fall with the added dead weight on top of her, knocking the air out of her chest. Y/N coughed and grimaced in pain, a trickle of blood emerging from the corner of her lips. She was almost positive that she had broken at least one rib, most likely more than one. The general gritted her teeth and used all the strength she could muster and pushed the foul-smelling creature off her. Freeing herself of the heavy weight at last made her groan in pain but at the very least, she could finally breathe again. Breathe. Taking a deep breath that filled her lungs and made her ribcage scream in protest, Y/N carefully rolled on her side. The elf closed her eyes and braced herself for the pain which was to come should she try to get back on her feet. The air was thick with sounds of steel clashing with steel, arrows flying in all directions, the low and threatening growls of the wargs and roars of the trolls. She could hardly hear or sense her people; the havoc of this place was overwhelming and disrupting. With another pained groan Y/N got on all fours, her bruised insides making her cough up blood. No. Do not make it so, the general prayed in silence.
There was fighting all around her, she was bound to force herself up lest she be killed. Her insides were pulsating with pain, coming in waves, making her inhale sharply. As if sensing her master's state, Elenath was soon by her side once again, giving Y/N a gentle nudge with her muzzle.
"I'm alright, we're alright," the Elvenqueen whispered with a sad smile before clenching her jaw as another wave of pain overtook her. Elenath gave a low neigh before giving Y/N another nudge, this time more urgently. As her pain finally subsided enough for her to sense her immediate surroundings, she could feel someone, or something, approach her. Her hand reached for her blade which lay imbedded in the slain warg's skull, her fingers wrapping around the hilt in time as the footsteps grew nearer. She would not give the enemy the satisfaction of killing her while she was down. The queen knew it was going to hurt, it would be agonising even but she was determined to keep on fighting until her last breath. I pray you can forgive me. The steps were nearly upon her now, an unknown fiend looming over her like a dark cloud, savouring the moment before striking her down. All her muscles tensed as she swiftly lifted her sword, swinging it fiercely at the unknown assailant Y/N got back on her feet with a feral cry. Steel met steel as pale eyes met hers. How could it be? Before she could utter a single word, let alone manage a respectful greeting of her king, Thranduil had withdrawn his sword and closed the small distance between them.
"You're hurt," the worry in his voice was accompanied by the sorrowful look in his eyes.
"Aran nîn, forgive me, I did not see-," Y/N began to apologise but was unceremoniously cut off by her king.
"Where are you hurt, meleth nîn?" Thranduil sheathed both his swords and once his hands were free, they went to cup her face, his eyes searching her face intently.
"There's no time for this now, we must...," her voice trailed off as she finally noticed her husband's host aiding hers, cutting down enemy ranks left and right. It appeared that they had been rescued and pulled from their impending doom.
"Do you see? The battle is all but won," his voice was reassuring and calm, "Now, you must tell me where it is you're hurt," he asked her in a more demanding tone. Does he sense it?
"It is nothing, likely a couple of bruised ribs is all," Y/N tried her best to hide the severity of her injuries, she did not want to add more worry to his already long list of troubles.
"If I know my wife, then I know that her version of bruised ribs is most likely fractured or even broken," he frowned at her through his bushy eyebrows, "Tell me, which of the two is it?" she could not hold his gaze any longer, casting her eyes down she let a yielding sigh escape her lips. Lying to her husband would be meaningless, Thranduil would see through it as easily as one sees through glass.
"The latter," Y/N admitted as her eyes found his again.
ㅤ
Thranduil had begged her to ride with him on his elk, but Y/N would not have any of it. Stubborn as she was, she gave her king no choice but to agree to her riding Elenath to his encampment. She had let him help her mount her mare but that had been all the aid she had been willing to accept for the time being. As his wife, she longed for his touch but for now it was completely out of the question, at least until she had seen one of the healers. We're alright, she hoped against hope that the Valar had heard her prayers. Y/N tried to keep her breathing as shallow as possible, mainly because drawing deep breaths caused excruciating agony. Her breastplate felt too tight, making it that much harder to breathe properly. Her ears were ringing and the taste of blood in her mouth was making her sick. But she would show none of it, not when so many of her people had fallen, not when so many of them were in worse conditions than she was.
"Are you certain you can ride on your own, meleth nîn?" Thranduil's voice carried the worry he must have been feeling. Y/N turned her head and mustered up a smile before giving her king a nod.
"It's not my broken ribs that pain me," her voice sounded mournful as she spoke her truth to her king. Her eyes drifted from Thranduil's as she took in the gravity of what had happened. Once again Y/N was facing a field covered in corpses. From what she could tell, nearly a third of her host was gone. She found that Thranduil coming to their aid and helping them to victory meant very little to her now. Grateful as she was to be alive and whole, Y/N couldn't help but feel the sorrow and grief this victory had brought her. She wasn't sure for how much longer she could go on, each day bringing more death with it, each night accompanied by more suffering. Her heart could not bear it. This isn't the life I wished for you.
"You were caught unawares, there was nothing to be done," when he spoke, his voice appeared to be closer than it previously had. Turning to face him, Y/N saw that his elk was right next to Elenath, towering over her like a giant beast.
"It doesn't make it right," Y/N responded quietly while shaking her head lightly.
"None of this is right yet such is the nature of war," Thranduil's attempts to comfort her did very little, the guilt she was feeling was too overwhelming.
"We brought them here, we asked them to fight, to die and for what?" Y/N felt her hold on her emotions weaken. She was too worn out, she could feel it in her bones, in every part of her being.
"We have suffered an immeasurable loss, it is only natural that you would grieve," the king reached over and took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze, "But do not let your regrets rule your heart and mind, we are only doing what is right," he reminded her softly.
"And you, aran nîn, have you no regrets?" Y/N asked him as her eyes found his light blue-hazel ones. His expression softened as his gaze held hers, his pale hues unveiling the hidden truth. Suddenly, the great king of the Woodland realm bore a look of despair, making Y/N regret her silly question. Was she so distraught that she had lost all her common sense?
"You need only look around to see my regrets, meleth, they are as plain as day," he noted dismally. She hated herself for asking, she hated to see her beloved in such grave pain, she hated this war above all else. They would be mourning their fallen until the end of days by the gruesome looks of it. Yet there was hope, she bore it inside her still. Their hope.
ㅤ
Thranduil had not pressed the issue of Y/N being seen by their best healer immediately upon their arrival at his encampment, for which she had been grateful. Until their wounded had been attended by their healers, given food and water, and sheltered in tents and larger pavilions, there would be no talk or mention of Y/N seeing a healer. There had been plenty to do for both rulers before they could retire to their shared tent. It was only when the bustling noises within their camp had begun to settle down, that the king and queen finally deemed fit to seek the solace of their private pavilion.
"Allow me to help you out of your armour before I send for Nestor," it took him only two large strides before he was right next to her, his fingers going to work on undoing the clasps attaching her cape to her shoulders before moving on to her breastplate. Being attended to by Nestor while Thranduil was in the tent was out of the question, not when he was unaware of her current condition. She would have to come up with a reason, an excuse to leave their tent. As soon as her husband had removed her breastplate, a shockwave of pain exploded inside her, her injuries appearing to be worse than she had thought. Much to her dismay, she couldn't hinder the low groan that had formed in the back of her throat, making her husband stop what he was doing, and go around her to face her.
"You're in pain," he said mournfully, a deep sadness taking to his pale eyes as he ran them over her face. Y/N forced a weak smile as her palm found his smooth cheek, her thumb caressing it softly.
"You need to see Nestor right away, meleth nîn," the king whispered as his hand went to his cheek to take hers, giving it a gentle squeeze before pressing their intertwined fingers to his chest. He was right, she needed a healer. She felt it could wait no longer lest she risked the unspeakable.
"I would much rather see Rîleth, she has been wonderful with caring for my company," Y/N murmured softly, her eyes not leaving his. Thranduil watched her for a moment but didn't question her choice.
"Ethirdaer!" he raised his voice slightly so their guards would hear. Almost instantly, her husband's guard entered their tent and bowed respectfully.
"My lord, my lady," the veteran guard addressed them.
"Send for Rîleth with all haste," Thranduil ordered. With a quick nod of his head, the elven guard left their tent.
"Thank you," Y/N said gratefully after Thranduil had helped her out of the rest of her armour, leaving her in her tunic and wool breeches.
"I do not understand what is taking them so long," he grumbled under his breath as he helped Y/N take a seat on his armchair. Her pain had subsided some but not enough to allow her to move freely and without discomfort. Thranduil would easily take notice of her hurt even despite her best efforts to hide it.
"Plenty of our people need tending, my love, we must be patient," Y/N reminded him softly. She knew he was feeling restless and helpless because it was her who had been hurt, he really couldn't stand the sight of his beloved in pain and discomfort. The absence of his reply told her he knew she was right. We are selfless, our people come first, remember that always.
"I must confess, sometimes I forget how selfless your heart is, my queen," he whispered as he got down on his knee before her, taking both her hands in his, "But I refuse to let it take you from me," he mumbled quietly against her skin before planting a tender kiss on her knuckles.
"There isn't a force strong or powerful enough in this realm, to take me away from you," Y/N reassured her husband.
"We are not invincible, meleth, I will not have you perish defending this accursed land," when he lifted his head to find her face, his expression was somber, his fear of losing her plain in his eyes.
"What is this talk, my king?" Y/N asked, pulling her right hand from his she placed it on the side of his head, her fingers moving into his silken hair, "Was it not you who once claimed you pitied our enemy, for they had to fend off my swords?"
"Your skill is unmatched, my queen, much like your accomplishments as the general of our armies," he began slowly, leaning into her touch, "yet none of it should come at the price of your life." Y/N was certain they wouldn't be having this conversation at all had she not been wounded. It had been the first time her husband had seen her fall victim to injury, making him now ponder his fears out loud. She fought the urge to say that for as long as they ruled together, they would go to war together as well, for they were equals in all aspects.
"I understand your fears, aran nîn, for I have my own of losing you," she whispered tenderly as her fingers continued playing with Thranduil's long strands of golden hair.
"Should I come to suffer the day where I lost you, my heart would go with you, leaving but an empty shell and aching soul to walk this world without you," Thranduil's eyes closed at her words, as if they pained him somehow.
"Then your heart must be a mirror of mine," his words were barely audible, the tone of their conversation growing heavier still yet they had to accept it for what it was – the sincere truth. They had been husband and wife for centuries, it wasn't long by any Elvish standards, yet their love for each other had grown during their time together. There were no more words left to say now, they had voiced their fears along with their ever-growing love for each other. Despite the screaming protests of her wounded insides, Y/N leaned down to find Thranduil's lips in a gentle kiss which sent a soothing current throughout her entire body. Her discomfort eased significantly as their kiss began to grow, bringing to surface their need for each other, reminding them of how long they had been apart and denied each other's touch. Unfortunately, their private moment was interrupted by Rîleth's polite clearing of her throat.
"My lord, my lady," she greeted them with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her delicate lips.
Neither Y/N nor Rîleth had missed the annoyed glance that Thranduil had quickly shot at the healer upon her arrival. Once the king of the Woodland realm remembered why he had sent for Rîleth in the first place, his expression softened, and he offered the healer a respectful nod of his head. The elf healer had only shaken her head in mild amusement before turning her attention to her queen.
"My lady, how may I be of service?" Rîleth asked tentatively, her green eyes quickly going to Thranduil before finding Y/N's again, a questioning look on her features. Y/N knew instantly what the healer meant and gave a very subtle shake of her head.
"Perhaps before we begin, if it would please my lord, could we have the room to ourselves?" Rîleth's sudden question caused the king to raise his dark eyebrows in question.
"I beg your pardon?" his demeanour changed instantly, he almost looked insulted by her question. Y/N suspected that the healer's request had seemed absurd to him, if not downright disrespectful.
"I will not be dismissed as some-," the king began, his voice growing icier with every word until the queen interrupted him, her words bringing his attention to her.
"Aran nîn, she is not trying to dismiss you," Y/N started slowly, careful to hide the true intentions of Rîleth requesting to be left alone with her, "I promised her advice on certain matters of the heart regarding one of your guards, I'm sure you understand," she finished with a smile, her eyes going to the healer who thankfully understood what Y/N was doing, and gave a shy nod.
"Matters of the...," Thranduil mumbled before clearing his throat and straightening himself out.
"Of course," he nodded before taking Y/N's hand in his and kissing the top of it.
"I will give you your privacy while I go check on our supper," the queen offered her husband a grateful smile before he turned to leave them to their matters of the heart.
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"Forgive me, I couldn't think of anything else," Y/N went to apologise as soon as she was sure Thranduil was out of earshot. Rîleth shook her head in amusement as she approached the queen.
"Do not worry, it is unlikely that the king will remember any of this once you bestow your greatest gift on him," the healer's voice was gentle and mildly soothing. Even her mere presence carried a certain calm with it. Y/N's eyes went to her stomach before finding Rîleth's again in a questioning manner.
"And is there still a gift to bestow?" her words were a whisper, it was difficult for her to voice her question, and more difficult still to await its answer. The smile on the healer's face turned upside down as she quickly got on her knees before her queen, her hands going to Y/N's belly.
"Did something happen?" Rîleth whispered as her hands began feeling the queen's stomach.
"I took a tumble and got crushed by the dead weight of a warg," Y/N explained to the healer while she continued to examine her.
"Henion," Rîleth nodded thoughtfully as her hands proceeded to work. Y/N was watching the healer elf, anxiously awaiting the final verdict on her gift to Thranduil. The queen had decided to have an elfling shortly before they had been called upon to defend Middle-Earth, and there had been no suitable time to tell her husband that he was going to be a father at last. They had been so taken with each other at first, Thranduil and her, that they had agreed to wait with forming a family. It was only rather recently that they both had talked about how wonderful it would be to have a young one running around and about their kingdom. Y/N grimaced in pain as Rîleth's fingers came too close to her ribcage, disturbing her broken bones, making her instantly wish she had waited even longer. I couldn't have known, she thought to herself, feeling tears welling up in her eyes.
"I am sorry, rîan nîn," Rîleth sounded apologetic as her fingers immediately withdrew from Y/N's belly, "May I have a listen?" she asked the queen quietly, to which Y/N gave an affirmative nod before closing her eyes. Soon she would receive either the greatest news of her entire life, or the most devastating. The queen held her breath as Rîleth lifted her tunic and pressed her ear to her stomach. Hot tears were paving her cheeks as she continuously prayed to the Valar that her little elfling was unhurt. She could not tell how long the healer was listening to her stomach, her expert hearing waiting to hear any signs of life. At last, she could feel Rîleth lift her head, opening her eyes again, Y/N saw that the healer was smiling brightly.
"Your little one is alright, my lady," the healers words made the queen release a relieved gasp which soon turned into outright sobs. Each new sob brought with it a wave of pain from her broken bones, but Y/N did not care, her little elfling was unharmed and well. Her hands went to her belly, stroking it gently while tears fell from her cheeks. She thanked the Valar that they had heard and granted her prayers, vowing to tell her husband as soon as he returned.
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When Thranduil returned, he found his queen freshly bathed and her wounds tended. Y/N was comfortably bundled up in her evening robes as she sat in her chair waiting for her husband.
"How do you feel, my beloved?" he went to her at once, his eyes casting an examining glance over her frame. Y/N set down the cup of herbal draught Rîleth had made for her pain on the wooden table next to her chair, and slowly got up on her feet.
"Much better, meleth nîn," she assured her husband as she moved to embrace him. His arms went around her, and he gently pulled her closer to his chest, still mindful of the injuries she bore. Y/N went to rest her head in the crook of Thranduil's neck, breathing him in she closed her eyes. He smelled like home, like the vast and lush forest which was their kingdom, he smelled of fresh wood and wildflowers.
"I am relieved to hear that," he murmured into her hair before moving to rest his head on top of hers. Y/N stayed in her husband's embrace, relishing being able to be close to him at last after months of being separated by this cursed war.
"There is something I have been meaning to tell you," the queen spoke softly as she broke their embrace. Thranduil's face still bore the signs of being relieved at his beloved feeling better when her eyes caught his pale ones.
"Oh?" his fingers went to move up and the down the lengths of her arms while he waited for Y/N to share her wonderful news with him.
"Do you recall questioning the purpose of defending this, as you so eloquently had put, accursed land?" she asked him with a tilted head, raising her eyebrow she watched the king grow thoughtful.
"Yes, go on," Thranduil nodded after a moment.
"As luck would have it, I am about to provide you with one," Y/N cast her eyes down to her belly before finding his eyes again, a warm and loving smile lifting the corners of her lips. Thranduil glanced to her stomach as well before his eyes found hers again. His eyebrows were slowly furrowing in confusion until finally realisation hit him, and his eyes grew wider.
"Are you-?" Thranduil's eyes went to her belly once again where they lingered for a moment. He was perfectly still, it seemed he was even holding his breath, his pale eyes intently focused on her stomach.
"Yes, meleth nîn," her words made his eyes find hers again. Watching her husband's features melt and mould into a singular expression of pure joy, made her heart fill with so much warmth and happiness, she feared she might just burst. When Thranduil smiled, it reached his eyes, making them sparkle with delight. He swiftly closed the space between them, his hands going to cup Y/N's face. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a quick kiss before moving to plant a tender kiss on both of her cheeks and lips.
"When?" his excited state was making him appear to be out of breath, his chest was rising and falling more rapidly now.
"Shortly before we marched, if I had known-," she wanted to tell him that she would have waited, that she would not have risked it while they were off at war, but Thranduil cut her off.
"Shh, my darling, none of it matters now," he reassured her before planting another soft kiss on Y/N's lips, "All that matters is the life you carry inside of you," he murmured before he moved his hands and carefully placed his palms to rest on her stomach. The queen smiled warmly at the sight of her husband's glee, there wasn't a single worry on his features, the dreary clouds had vanished from his bright eyes, and they finally shined with hope.
"I'm to become a father, a dream I dared not dream while forced to endure this inferno of flames and death," he whispered as he leaned his forehead against hers, his palms remaining where they were, on her belly which carried his child.
"Are you pleased, my husband?" Y/N asked quietly, her hand going to Thranduil's cheek.
"Pleased?" he breathed out before chuckling lowly under his breath, "Darling, this is the greatest gift you could have ever bestowed upon me," he whispered in a state that was near euphoric. Y/N felt tears of happiness building at the corners of her eyes, tears of utmost joy and overwhelming glee were taking control of her body and spirit. She almost felt guilty of being this happy when there was so much death and destruction around them. But to see her king be besides himself with joy shoved her guilt aside and made way for more delight, it meant the world to her to witness his spirits be lifted.
Y/N watched as Thranduil got on his knees before her and carefully, as if not to hurt her or the elfling inside her, pressed his face to her belly. The queen's hands went to rest on his shoulders as her king kissed the fabric of her robes where her stomach was.
"My little leaf, it's your ada," Thranduil's voice broke half-way, the king being overwhelmed with the emotion of this intimate moment. When he glanced up at his wife, there were tears in his blue-hazel eyes.
"I ant lîn vîr vin faer nîn," he whispered to Y/N as a single tear was making its way down his pale cheek.
"Gi melin," the queen murmured lovingly making the smile on Thranduil's face grow even wider.
"I love you too, my wife," he breathed out as he quickly got back up on his feet, his palms going to cup her face once more as his lips met hers with passion so fierce and fiery it could set their entire kingdom ablaze.
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Glossary:
Mellonen – my friend
Hiril nîn – my lady
Lau – No (no indeed not, on the contrary)
Leithio i phillin – release your arrows
Aran nîn – my king
Meleth nîn – my love
Henion – I understand
Rîan nîn – my queen (rîan – queen/crowned lady)
Ada – father (dad)
I ant lîn vîr vin faer nîn – I shall treasure your gift in my heart/ your gift is a treasure to my soul
Gi melin – I love you (informal)