Trigger Warning: Grief ahead. It won't just start you'll have clues for it. It's nothing too bad, but I wanted to add this in for good measure, just in case. It's near the end.
If you do read it, and feel froggy, play that song while you do :) it's what I hear in my head when I read it.
I promise these pining and sad chapters will be coming to an end soon LOL not totally absent, but we'll get back to the happier nature soon.
-
"Violet Euphemia Potter!" Gandalf said, laughing as he rushed towards the girl. He bent down, holding out his hand to help her up. As soon as her feet were planted firmly on the ground, he yanked her into a hug, paying no mind to the 'oomph' she let out. She smiled at being near the wizard again, any and all cares floating away with it. "I am glad to see you happy, healthy, and glowing, my dear girl."
"Did you ever doubt Th-- King Thranduil?" she asked.
He gave her a smile, one that suggested he knew something she didn't. "Not even for a moment."
She looked at him, raising an eyebrow, before turning back to The Company, who, strangely, were waiting patiently. "Bombur!" She rushed forward, giving the plump red-head a hug, planting a kiss on the top of his head. "How are you?"
"Other than some bumps and scrapes, I'm fine, lass."
"So," Thorin began, "This is where you've been? Shacking up with the enemy?"
"Hello to you too, mate," Violet said, raising an eyebrow, allowing a slight smirk to play at her lips, "You are the only one here who thinks of them as an enemy besides Tweedledee and Tweedledum" -- she nodded her head at Fili and Kili -- "and Dwalin."
Thorin shook his head fondly at the witch and gave her a hug. "Hello, Violet. And that's not true, Balin does too."
Balin avoided eye contact with his king, taking great interest in the trees that looked dead, but weren't. Though, Violet realized, he could also not realize this conversation wasn't taking place at all. Most of The Company seemed out of it, now that the initial shock of her being there had waned off. They didn't seem to be wandering off, more so looking around the forest like they had no idea where they were.
"Okay, we need to get a move on. The Elven-king awaits you," she said. And me. She looked at Thorin. "Do you remember when I said it was my job to hold back the armies of Sauron?" He nodded. "Then I need you to trust me."
Thorin looked as if she had shoved lemon juice down his throat. "I think I would rather d-"
"Thorin!" Gandalf reprimanded sharply. The dwarf king looked back at the wizard, exasperated already.
"Okay then, you're welcome to find your way out this forest and around it. It's back that way," Violet said, pointing in the direction opposite the dwarves. She gave them one last smile and turned to walk away. She got maybe ten feet before Thorin's voice called out to her.
"Wait!" She turned back to see him irritated, but compliant. "Lead the way."
She gave a smirk. "Pleasure doing business with you, mate. So, lads, who's going first?"
"What do you mean, lass?" Dwalin asked, gauging the witch from afar.
"Who's going to apparate first? No offense, Dwalin, but it won't be you. I don't trust leaving you and King Thranduil alone. You either, Thorin." The dwarves all began chattering at once, throwing questions at her. "Alright! Forgot you lot didn't know what apparating was. Essentially, teleporting. Your organs may feel as if they're being twisted and pulled all at the same time. Then, one second you're here and the next you're about two-hundred miles that way." -- she pointed towards the direction of Thranduil's Halls -- "You may feel a bit queasy. Completely normal. So, who wants to go first?" Everyone stepped back, leaving Ori at the front. "Brilliant! Come along then, Ori."
"M-me?" He looked around in horror, seeing that all of his kinsman left him, even his own brothers. Violet nodded, a bright smile on her face.
"Yes, you." He walked forward, clutching the hand she had forward in fearful acceptance. "I should warn you that there's a chance you could lose a limb or your life, but no need to worry. I've never done that to anyone, not even when I apparated here for the first time. Worst that could happen is you lose your scarf."
Ori looked as if nothing could be worse. Violet paid no mind, clutching him tightly with her left hand and raising her wand with her right. She moved her wand in the correct motion, feeling the familiar twist and pull happen to her, and then the next thing she knew, she landed on her feet a few yards in front of Thranduil, Legolas, and Authanar. Thranduil's eyes showed his relief at her being unharmed, but he raised a brow as he watched the dwarf in front of him fall flat on his face.
"Ori? Are you alright?" The dwarf gave a grunt, mumbling something about being nauseous. "Ah. You'll be fine. It'll pass in a minute. King Thranduil, this is Ori. He's the youngest of The Company."
"Charmed," he said, raising an elegant eyebrow. Violet walked towards him.
"He's also probably the sweetest one, so be nice."
Thranduil gave a wicked smirk. "Am I not always?" The Elven-king winked at her, raising her wand-bearing hand to his lips for a kiss, and she felt a blush coat her cheek. "Go on, get the rest. I'll ensure he's alright... And I'll be nice."
She forced herself away from the man of her desires, focusing on his eyes once more before apparating away again. It took Violet approximately two hours before she had all of the dwarves in front of Thranduil. If they had been closer, perhaps she could have gotten them there quicker, but she had to stop for a few breaks. Apparating in small doses is easy. Apparating in large doses is exhausting. Dwalin was saved for last, still able to give snide comments to the Elven-king through his own nausea.
"A crown of flowers? Seriously?" Violet pinched his ear, taking great satisfaction as he winced and sent a scowl in her direction.
"Coming from somebody who doesn't even have a crown to wear," Thranduil remarked dryly, "Welcome to my halls. I hope you will find your stay welcoming and pleasant." Not. "If you will follow me, I will show you to your rooms. Lady Violet has already informed me that you would only wish for two, so that is all that has been prepared. Please let me know now if you wish for different." Nobody made a sound, making Thranduil nod. "Very well. Thorin Oakenshield, please, walk with us at the front. You are a king, after all."
Violet chose to stay with Bombur, chatting and catching up on all that she had missed with him. Her arm was wrapped around his, with her other wrapped around Gandalf's, keeping them both close. The sight gave a clench to Thranduil's heart, and he realized that he'd now have to share her attention, whether he wished to or not.
He hated that he hated that. The way she made him feel was a double-edged sword, constantly teetering to fall one way or the other, and with every passing day it grew closer to falling into the path that terrified him the most: total embracement.
Yet, he knew with startling discomfort that he would give her anything she asked for. By the Valar, he would follow her into Dol Guldur if she asked without many questions.
He wondered when that began, and what it meant for him, for his future.
"How has your journey been thus far? I see you've acquired more Elven heirlooms," he said to Thorin, keeping his eyes straight ahead. Thorin felt the weight of Orcrist swinging by his side and wondered briefly if it would be taken from him, but nothing happened.
"Alright," Thorin replied shortly. Authanar and Legolas exchanged glances behind the two, surprised they had spoken at all. Elves of all standings watched as the strange group made their ways throughout the palace, though none was more shocked than the Captain of the Guard, Tauriel. She watched them from her post, eyes wandering the outsiders with great apprehension and dwarves alike, lingering on one in particular. On the one hand, they were dwarves... but, on the other, they had done what Tauriel had always wished to do, explore the world. Yet, in Mirkwood she stayed, bound by honor, duty, and love to her lord Thranduil because of his actions in her early life.
When the group arrived at the rooms set for the dwarves and Bilbo, the three figure heads of the Woodland Realm lined up together in a way that reminded Violet of Mean Girls. The witch had to force herself to look away, lest she let Thranduil remind her of Regina George. Legolas would be Karen and Authanar would be Gretchen.
As she listened to Thranduil speak about dinner, the thoughts wouldn't leave her mind, and she swore that if they strutted off together that she would lose it entirely. Thranduil does strut, and she knew that he knew that.
When all three turned to leave, they in fact did all strut off and Violet tried to find her calm in between her fits of giggles as she ran to catch up with them.
She turned around in front of them, walking backwards with a large grin on her face.
"I need you three to do me a favor. No questions asked," she said. When they all agreed, albeit reluctantly and only at the look from his brother did Authanar agree, she looked at Legolas first. "Say, 'On Wednesdays we wear pink'".
Legolas looked at his father and uncle, fully perplexed, but looked back to Violet and said, "...On Wednesdays we wear pink?"
The line caused Violet to burst into a fit of giggles, and she placed her hands on her knees before standing back up and looking at the remaining two ellons. "Okay, now Authanar, you say 'That is so fetch'. And Thranduil, you say, 'Gretchen, stop trying to make fetch happen! It's not going to happen'."
Authanar looked almost disgusted at the words he had to utter, and confused, but nonetheless did as she asked. Thranduil ensured he delivered, taking heart in how Violet's giggles filled the halls of the palace, and he watched her as she walked away, trying to get them under control with warm eyes and a loving smile.
He didn't notice the watchful eyes of Gandalf leaning on his staff, watching the pair with a soft smile.
-
Violet entered her room, almost fully calmed down from giggling, noticing a box with a note sitting on top of her bed. She walked closer with a smile, stroking Flufflepuff's side as he came up to greet her.
'My dear Violet,
Please do me the honor of wearing this for dinner tonight.
Thranduil xx'
She felt the butterflies creep up, and she imagined Thranduil taking the time to have a handwritten note sent to her, instead of having a servant deliver the message. This felt much more private, much more intimate, like it was their secret.
She unfolded the dress gently, laying it across her bed. It was a beautiful emerald green velvet dress, long and flowing with a small train at the back. The green ended right at the shoulders, with more gold fabric coming out the top to give her shoulders more coverage. A golden trim went around the neckline as well, with golden chains hanging in a necklace like pattern from the shoulders.
The sleeves ended right before the elbow, golden stitching making way for it to cut open to let the rest flow down in gold fabrics on the inside with the same velvet emerald green on the outside, ending a few inches before the bottom of the gown. That same golden stitching went around her middle, resembling almost a belt, flowing in four different directions to cinch her midsection in. This piece gave way for a design to be inputted, and upon closer inspection, she noticed they were meant to resemble branches. The branches of Mirkwood.
It was gorgeous, and Violet felt thoroughly spoiled. This was a dress fit for a lady, the lady Thranduil said she was. That man's generosity knew no bounds when it came to his loved ones, and she was honored to be considered among those few.
Delicately, she ran her fingers along the dress, feeling it, before she picked up the note and folded it with a smile, sticking it in her nightstand drawer to keep. She folded the dress up, placing it in the box again with all the care in the world. Any gift from Thranduil was a gift to be treasured.
The witch yawned, and now that she was alone, the sheer exhaustion from so much apparition wore on her. Thank Merlin she had time for a short nap. Violet laid down, not even bothering to grab a blanket, just relishing in the small amounts of warmth Flufflepuff provided nestled into her neck as it lulled her off to sleep.
-
At some point during the next hour, a knock sounded on the door, and she rose to answer it, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and was surprised to find an elleth at her door.
"Hello," Violet said with a kind smile, "Can I help you?"
The woman curtsied, throwing Violet for a loop, before she raised again and said, "Hello, my lady. My name is Nîdhel. King Thranduil sent me to do your hair for you. May I come in?"
Violet's eyes brightened. She would have her hair done! The witch smiled wider, opening the door to let the elleth in. "Of course! Thank you! Thank you so much."
Nîdhel smiled, and promptly got to work on Violet's hair. It took another hour, but the end result was so worth it. The top of her hair was braided to almost look like a net, emerald clasps to hold it all together. The end of that was made into a braid. The sides were twisted back, each meeting two sections that were also braided. Then all three braids were braided together. It was so simple, yet so intricate, and something Violet never could have done without it resembling a bird's nest.
"You are a godsend Nîdhel! It's brilliant."
The elleth blushed under the compliments, and she knew the Elven-king was right. Violet Potter was one of a kind. "Thank you, my lady. Do you need help getting your dress on?"
"No, but thank you regardless."
Nîdhel smiled, before replying her okays. "My lord Thranduil has instructed me to do your hair every morning from here on out, so I shall see you on the morrow, Lady Violet."
"Goodbye, Nîdhel. I'll see you tomorrow," Violet said. The elleth curtsied once more, leaving Violet reeling again. That would certainly take some getting used to, but she was sure there wasn't a way to stop it. The Woodland Elves were very loyal to their king, and she was sure anything she said would not change their protocol with her.
The witch very carefully removed her clothes, throwing them haphazardly around, deciding to pick them up later. Pooling the dress into a circle on the floor, she stepped into it, pulling it up her body, noticing how it fit her perfectly. In some other life, Thranduil was a tailor, and a popular one at that. The ellon had an eye for fashion. The fabric even fit over her bandages, somehow not revealing them through the tighter fabric!
Elven works would always be a wonder. They were constantly developing, miles ahead of everyone else. There was a reason every elf looked perfect almost constantly. No other species could compare to the beauty and grandeur that the elves provided, but Violet could admit that not every species was suited to it. The dwarves would look silly dressed as elves. Their clothing fabrics, hair, and beards all fit them perfectly. The elves wouldn't be able to pull off the rough and tough look that dwarves do.
Dwarves were a lumberjack type of terrifying. Elves were a silent stalker type of terrifying.
A part of her was more partial to the elves, and it definitely had nothing to do with the fact that one held her very delicate heart in his stern hands. No, nothing like that at all.
She was so screwed.
She opened the door, preparing to walk out, calling back to Flufflepuff that she'd be back at some point. Then, she hit a wall. She stuck her hands out, placing them there for a moment to revel in her sheer stupidity.
But... then she realized the wall was fabric, not the wood and stone that the Halls were made of. Her eyes widened, and she looked up to see the teasing face of Thranduil as he smirked down at her.
"Didn't take you to be a bold one, Violet," he said, grasping the forearms still leaning against him. The witch gave him a smirk back.
"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me still, my lord." She could swear he took in a shuttered breath and looked down to her lips. For a moment, he looked as if he might lean in, but instead he just smirked at her and held his arm out.
"Indeed there is," he whispered, eyes full of fire. She placed her arm in his, examining what he wore. The Elven-king's face blushed a deep scarlet, and he resisted the urge to squirm under her intense gaze. He was a king. He was used to being looked at, but something in the witch's gaze made him feel as if his very soul was being stared into.
His own outfit consisted of a golden robe that split in the middle of his pelvis, flowing down to the floor and trailing out behind him. Small emerald green accents were embroidered throughout. It was tight, with a high neck that was open, held together by a brooch that resembled a barren tree with multiple branches. It was a perfect balance to Violet's outfit for the night, and quite similar to that of Legolas and Authanar as well. Chocolate brown leggings covered his legs, not that they were much seen, and brown leather boots covered his feet and calves, stopping just over his knee. A golden circlet sat upon his brow, and rings of emerald green covered his fingers.
"You look wonderful," Violet said with a smile, heat covering her cheeks as she did. She looked at his hair, before she frowned and tucked a piece behind his ear. "There. Perfect."
This woman would be the death of him. He wished he could fully enjoy this feeling, but he just couldn't acknowledge it. Acknowledging it meant acknowledging a lot more than what he was feeling. It was safer to relish in the 'unknown' and vehemently deny it every time Authanar brought it up. His brother only brought it up to remind him of everything he wished to ignore, the very reason he wanted to ignore this issue for a bit longer.
"Why is Flufflepuff not coming?"
"I simply wasn't sure if he was allowed."
"Unless it's a formal dinner, he's allowed." Thranduil held onto Violet's arm a bit tighter as he bent down and called for the Pygmy Puff, letting him jump into his palm. "Shall we?"
"We shall." She shut her door behind them. "So, matching outfits, huh?"
"I wanted us to appear as a united front before our new guests. Dwarves are loud and greedy. They could easily start a shouting match for nothing. If we appear as a united front at a casual dinner, it will cause them to see us as such when it matters. Legolas and Authanar are dressed in complimentary colors, both wearing golden circlets as well."
"Very smart," she praised, nodding her head, "And Nîdhel?"
"Her services were just a gift. The dinner was simply a happening of convenient timing. I wanted you to be able to have that experience. I have seen your eyes marvel at elven hairstyles."
"Well, thank you," she said, squeezing his bicep with the hand in his elbow, "I love it."
"And you look beautiful."
Violet looked up at him, but he kept his eyes straight forward, nodding to the guards by the Great Hall doors. Authanar was announced first, giving nothing away of his emotions. Legolas went next, giving one last look to his father and friend.
"King Thranduil, the Elven-king of the Woodland Realm, and Lady Violet Potter!" They entered together, arm in arm, looking like different versions of the sun. Thranduil looked like the sun on a rainy day, his face stoic and his golden garb making him every bit of the infamous King Thranduil that Mirkwood was known for.
Violet looked like like sun that came the day after, a balm to the battered soul of Thranduil, a smile on her face. The sun that would dry up the rain and bring everybody warmth again. This was not the Violet Potter that left the dwarves. This was a woman who looked eerily correct standing by the Elven-king.
"They're staring at you," Thranduil whispered to her. He hated that a bitter tone had swept in, that he didn't have complete and total control of his own emotions in her vicinity.
"Only because of your gifts," she whispered back. Even unknowingly, she knew what to say. He pulled out her chair for her, between Bombur and Gandalf and across from him at her request. He had been willing to have her by his side the entire night, but the witch didn't want the dwarves to begin thinking of her as somebody distant.
The rational part of him knew he was right. The irrational side that was specifically for her wanted to curse them all the way to Erebor and drag her chair around the table.
"Okay, tell me all about your journey. Were you chased by orcs again?" Violet asked, smiling at Galion as he poured wine in her glass. Thranduil pulled his wine glass up to his lips, swirling it around, and watching everything with keen eyes. He was acutely aware of the eyes watching him, as well.
"Aye, lass. We were. Just before entering the forest, actually," Bombur said, around a mouth full of food. Violet saw Authanar's mouth turn in disgust, but he said nothing. Thranduil's head turned toward Bombur at full force, almost hitting Legolas in the face with his hair.
"Near the Elven Path?" he asked. Bombur nodded.
"If it wasn't for Beorn giving us some ponies, we would have been caught. Though, he also warned us not to come in here, and he was wrong about that."
"Why did he warn you not to come in here?" Thranduil smirked, though he moved his hair for Flufflepuff as the creature ran up his arm to his neck, letting it fall again to act as a curtain. The sight made Violet smile. It's the little things.
The sight even caught Thorin's attention, making him furrow his brows in confusion, and a little bit of anger. Such care for the Pygmy Puff, and yet you leave my people to the fiery inferno that threatened to destroy us all.
"Said the woodelves were not like their kin. That you all are less wise, and more dangerous," Thorin said.
The Elven-king elbowed his brother, looking at him out the corner of his eye. "'Tis nice to hear our reputation still holds. Aye, Authanar?"
Authanar smirked, giving his brother the same side eye.
"Where do we go from here?" Thorin asked bluntly. He looked at Thranduil, but Thranduil was looking at Violet.
"This is a question for you, not for me," he said, drinking more wine and snapping his fingers for a refill, "Ci athae, Galion." (Thank you, Galion)
"We need the dwarf armies. Sauron already has ten-thousand orcs and we know that he will attack anytime between now and a little after the dwarven new year, but we don't know much more than that. He could have twenty-eight thousand orcs six months from now. Logically, I highly doubt he will attack anywhere but Erebor. That's what he wants and that's where his sights are set at. I've sent ravens to both Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond for them to spare any soldier they can. What can the dwarves spare?"
"...Truthfully, I'm not sure. Dain is stubborn" -- Thranduil snorted in his head -- "and didn't even agree to help us reclaim Erebor. However, if you tell him the Iron Hills are also in danger, he may be more agreeable."
"He will be agreeable, or I'll apparate to the Iron Hills and beat sense into him myself. Because his home is in danger! Every dwarf kingdom is in danger right now, and I hope they have sense enough to see it."
Thranduil cleared his throat, trying to dispel the tension in the air. "Speaking of apparition, Lady Violet will be apparating to both Rivendell and Lothlorien to gather Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond to come plot with us all." Violet looked at Thranduil, eyes wide and a smile on her face. She hadn't been told this yet. "I am not entirely certain of when though. I sent the ravens to them myself to be ready."
Thorin looked very wary. "And how do you plan to ensure that the dwarves and elves will work together? Bad blood runs deep and has for many years." He glared at the Elven-king, as if it was entirely his fault. Thranduil was trying very hard to remain on his best behavior and be civil, but one more glare like that and there was a lovely cell waiting downstairs. He would even put a sign with Thorin's name on it, just to be nice.
"I have my ways," Violet said, "Magic ways. It only requires you and King Thranduil. It will, hopefully, all but ensure the support of every elf and dwarf in this makeshift army."
"Well, here comes food, so let this business talk come to a close. Tonight is about comradery, not chats of war. There is enough time for that tomorrow," Thranduil said. He leaned closer to Legolas, speaking in his native tongue, "What has you so quiet, my son?"
"The dwarves make me uncomfortable," he replied.
"Well, on that, I cannot disagree, but there is more to the story than that." They watched as Violet flicked the ear of a dwarf that threatened to get rowdy, and Gandalf reached with his staff to hit another who was going to do the same thing.
"The dwarf, the nephew of the king, I think, he stares at Tauriel."
Thranduil smiled, but on the inside, his heart hurt. Tauriel was Legolas's first love, and the hard truth was that love was unrequited. His heart would be broken at some point, and, as a father, Thranduil wished he could shield him from it.
"Nothing can happen unless Tauriel wishes it to happen," he said, reaching a hand up to rub his son's shoulder, brushing his hair away from it.
"Aye. It is advice that you should take yourself. I see your glares. They are subtle, but not to your son."
Thranduil ignored Legolas's advice, continuing to give his own instead. "And... if she does wish for it to happen, you will heal and be stronger for it. Love is like an ocean, Legolas. It can be dangerous, but you will escape the current and it will serve as a lesson to you."
Legolas smiled at his father. "Thank you, adar."
Once more, Thorin watched the interaction, startled at the tender care the Elven-king was capable of. And, shockingly, Thranduil reminded Thorin of himself. He knows what consoling looks like, and that was what Thranduil was doing, though he didn't know over what. How many times had he done that for both Fili and Kili over the years? Countless times. He watched as Thranduil muttered something about a bitten lip and medicine to his son, and he was reminded of all the times he would patch up skinned knees and elbows himself when his nephews would hurt themselves.
-
Thranduil found Violet sitting on the balcony that night, overlooking the vast plains that stood to the East of the Mirkwood forest. He too came here on nights where he needed peace, and he hoped that she was able to gather the same feeling from here. He held a glass of wine in his hand as he approached her, his golden robes trailing behind him by at least a foot. She was sitting in his rocking chair, quietly rocking back and forth, looking out between the bars of the railing.
"How is your shoulder?" he asked. Violet jumped in her seat, placing a hand over her heart. The Elven-king laughed quietly. She put her hands on the arm of her chair, pushing herself up, but a hand on her non-injured shoulder pushed her back down.
"How do you do that?" she asked. He looked to the hand covering her heart, letting his eyes linger there for a moment before he looked back up to her face.
"Years and years of practice."
"One day, before I go home, I'll be able to sneak up and scare you."
"Is that a threat or a promise?"
She smirked. "Both."
His lips quirked up at the corner of his mouth, but he took the path of that conversation no further. "Again, how is your shoulder?"
"Brilliant," Violet said, raising an eyebrow at him, "It still has a bit of an ache, but it's healing nicely and quickly, definitely thanks to Elven medicine. I appreciate it quite a lot. The healer says that just a couple more days and it should be completely healed. Still, I cannot believe I forgot to bring Essence of Dittany with me."
Thranduil hummed, lifting his wine glass to his lips to hide his growing smirk. He took a sip, lowering it back down. "Well, not everybody can be perfect."
"Yes, how sad for the both of us," Violet said. The Elven-king lowered his wine glass, almost letting the wine spill. His lips were parted and his eyes were wide, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline. The witch giggled, putting the back of her hand to her lips to quieten the laugh. The elf acquiesced, bowing his head to her and letting out a small piece of laughter himself. In a moment of courage, Violet asked him, "Can you tell me about your father and late wife?"
She realized afterwards what she had asked. Her eyes went wide and she went to take it back before Thranduil put his hand on top of hers. She looked to the side and his eyes were thoroughly trained on the sky, a sad smile resting on his face as though he could see them among the trees from where he stood.
He said, "Esselyth was my best friend growing up. She was kind, smart, beautiful, and an exceptionally talented warrior. She was the daughter of a noble, and she made sure that I remembered that. I married her during the Second Age of this world. The Valar gave me a warning that day, as they knew her time was short. However, I was young, and I was in love. I did not listen.
"She was young and healthy, and I was foolish to think that meant all would be well. The day she died, she had gone with us to battle. She was captured by the orc scum and tortured inside of Mount Gundabad. The only way I knew she had died was because they sent her head back to me in a box." He paused and Violet put a hand on his arm. "Legolas does not know that. I never got her body back. I was never able to give her a proper burial. I was distraught. I was running a kingdom, and now had to raise my son alone. I nearly faded away from the stress of it all."
"What stopped you?"
"Legolas," He said, and smiled as he watched the night patrol walk below them. They were silent as they walked, so nobody would notice them, but he was an exception. "He already lost his nana. He could not lose his adar as well. I will never see her again, and neither will he. I can tell that she decided not to have her soul and body come back as one. You see, as elves, we share bonds with our lovers. We can feel them, even when they sail West. 'Tis what allows us to be away from them for so long.
"I cannot feel her anymore. One day she was still there, and the next... not. It took a long time for me to accept that fact, but now I mourn that my little leaf will never have eternity with her. I wanted to be angry with her, but I was not the one who had been tortured. Death is one thing for an elven soul, but we cannot withstand torture and dying in such a brutal way. It left a permanent mark on her soul. I am glad that she can find some semblance of peace in Mandos' Halls forever." He remained silent for a moment after that, but the downturn of his lips and eyes told her that he was sad. He gave her hand one last pat before taking his away and entwined his fingers behind his back. "Tell me. Who was the man that you've... had before?"
She smiled, eyes alight even under the cover of trees, and said, "His name was Fred. Fred Weasley. He was a Gryffindor, the house known for the brave. He was two grades ahead of me. I knew his family since I was eleven. My own family were... not great people, and he, his twin brother, and my brother's best friend, Ron, came to save us on our twelfth birthday with a flying car. After that, every time Harry and I would leave our aunt and uncle's for the summer, The Burrow, their family home, is where we would go. We spent so much time together, and we just fell in love during that time. It doesn't seem entirely unlike the story you and the Queen share."
He looked away, but she could still see the smile on his face. It was not a large one, nor was it a smirk. But, it was definitely present, and it was as amazing as the rest of him.
"You shouldn't hide your smile," She said quickly, "It is quite beautiful and more people deserve to see it."
Thranduil was thankful for the cover of the trees, knowing the tips of his ears were hot in a blush. He cleared his throat, wanting to get away from feeling bashful.
"That is not how things work as a King," he said, not daring to look towards her. As she observed him from the side, she could admit the regality of him and how he could command things without even having to order them.
"Yes, I suppose so. However, I would argue-"
"The King is not accepting to hear arguments right now," he said quickly, but with a tone of finality. She knew better than to push him.
"Very well, then," she said, "Tell me about your father, please."
"No, you have not finished telling me about Fred," Thranduil said, rolling his eyes, "And to think, I took all that time speaking to you about Esselyth."
"Alright, alright. No need to bring out the dramatics," she said, "Eventually he died. The end."
"Oh, why do I try?" Thranduil asked.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're very dramatic?" Violet asked, looking at him with a tilt of her head, "Fred was a jokester. He and his twin brother, George, actually owned a shop in Diagon Alley called Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. They dropped out of school early because they knew where their passion was at and they saw no reason to continue. He always looked so proud every time he showed me a new creation he and George made. He died in the Final Battle of Hogwarts. He was too near an explosion set off by a Death Eater, and his brother Percy had to watch it happen. They had just reconciled too."
She held a watery smile, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. She turned away from Thranduil, trying to pull herself together. He put a hand on her shoulder and she turned back around to see him giving her a look of understanding. Everyone had always given her sympathy looks, looks of pity, anything but understanding because the truth was, they didn't understand. But, Thranduil did understand, perhaps better than anybody because he had been through something very similar.
"I do not know Fred, but I do know you now," he said, "He would be proud of you."
"And Queen Esselyth would be proud of you," she replied. He looked like he didn't believe her. "You've made mistakes Thranduil. We all have. You cannot punish yourself for every mistake you make. Eternity is a long time to do that. Now, tell me about your father, please."
"He was strict," Thranduil said. Violet snorted, but covered it quickly when she saw Thranduil glare at her.
"I'm sorry. That's not funny," she said, but then began to laugh again. Her shoulders shook, and she tried to laugh quietly as Thranduil rolled his eyes. "It's just - he sounds very familiar."
"If you think I am strict, you would have never survived my father," Thranduil said, "At least I allowed Legolas to go to Earth. My father would have never allowed that. He wanted complete isolationism. I want, maybe seventy percent."
"Oh, that's just such a large difference!"
They sat in silence for a few minutes, and he wondered if he should tell her why he preferred to staying to himself and his own kingdom's matters, instead of meddling in everybody else's. He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip, it was a nervous habit that Legolas and he shared. There were many a times when Legolas was a mere elfling that Thranduil would put medicine on spots that he had chewed too deeply.
"The battle that Esselyth went with me to was during the Angmar War. I was not meant to be involved, but I had a treaty with the Kingdom of Arnor. If it was not for that treaty, Esselyth would have never been tortured. That is the part that bothers me the greatest, but the fact that my decision left Legolas without a mother is not far behind. I fear it even left him without a father, or at least one who was a shell of himself for a long time," Thranduil said in a somber tone before sighing, "I have my own people to worry about. I cannot worry about the whole world and still keep Mirkwood safe."
Violet put a hand on the Elven-king's back, feeling the muscles tense where she touched, "Can I give you a hug?"
"Of course," he said. She wrapped her arms around his waist, letting his go around her shoulders. The witch was too tall to rest her head onto his chest without bending down, and so she let it fall to his shoulder and brought one of her hands up to where his heart was at, letting the thump of it pulsate against her hand. It was a comforting feeling, though the ellon's heartrate was in no way stable.
"What if," she started, biting her lip, "What if we lay them to rest together? One final send off. Let all of our spirits rest. We can do a traditional Wizarding send off and a traditional Elven send off for them both." Thranduil was silent for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as he stared off in front of him. Violet stilled, thinking she had gone too far, and pulled away a little to see his face. "I mean... We-- We don't have to."
Thranduil's eyes snapped to hers and he rushed to speak, "No!" Her eyes widened and he sighed. "I mean, no, I would like that. I would love that, actually."
She smiled. "No time like the present."
He agreed, so Thranduil and Violet went to the palace gardens, where they plucked a few roses from a bush and sat down in the grass to peel apart the petals and tear the leaves from the stem. They put all of those in a basket and moved to a rose bush that Queen Esselyth had personally planted, digging up some of the soil, placing that into the basket as well. Finishing off, they grabbed some twigs and put it on top of everything else in the basket as well. Thranduil pulled his rings off, placing them in the pocket of his robes and gave everything a mix with his hands so it was all one cohesive mixture instead of random things placed on top of each other.
Holding on to one another's hands for support, Thranduil and Violet walked towards the river. It was a dangerous thing to do in the sick forest of Mirkwood, and so the pair knew they couldn't linger, but they needed this. The elf could sense the patrols were around anyways. Far enough to give space, but close enough that orcs and spiders stood no chance in getting near.
In Violet's right hand was her wand, and in her left was Thranduil's hand. In his left hand was the basket. When they made it to the river, the Elven-king let go of the witch's hand and put the basket on the ground. Bringing his hands up, he gently removed the golden circlet that sat on his forehead. He placed it on a thick tree branch nearby and came back, grabbing her hand again.
Tears shone in both of their eyes and they used each other as a lifeline. They stepped to the very edge of the river, being sure not to touch the water.
"Ready?" he whispered, jostling her hand a bit. She nodded slightly, a tear slipping down her face. Violet moved her wand to her left hand and held it up to the sky, and the tip of it shone with light. She guided Thranduil's hand to hold onto hers that was holding the wand. Together, they watched as the forest lit up.
"Rest in peace, Fred," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. Thranduil took a shaky breath in, trying to keep his own tears at bay.
"Hiro hîdh neñ gurth Fred," he said. For a minute longer they stood, holding onto the wand and staring up at the sky that was covered by trees. "I wish we could see the stars. Perhaps in them, we could find the two."
"Me too," she said. She brought her wand down between the two of them and faced Thranduil, her eyes closed. It was still lit and he guessed perhaps she was thinking of some final parting words for her lost love. Bowing his head, he decided he would too.
Thank you for taking care of her. I promise I will too.
Bringing his head up, he found Violet was already looking at him and he gave a small smile. He looked to the river, partly in dread, but partly in relief. He knew he needed to let Esselyth go for the last time, but that didn't make it any easier. Still, if his witch could do it, then so could he.
He spoke quietly, at first, imperceptible to Violet's ears. When she didn't reply, he realized his mistake and spoke louder, "Normally, woodland elves do this portion after burying the body."
Without another word, he reached his hand into the basket and took a handful of its contents, throwing it into the river and watching as it floated down. He held the basket out to Violet, and she mimicked him. Together, they threw the remainder of the contents down the river as they floated off peacefully. Thranduil held up the last two rose petals and held one out to the woman beside him. He placed his lips softly to the petal, before bending down into a crouch, letting it fall from his hand. The last reminder of a love once lost.
Violet did the same and waited for Thranduil to speak. He was silent for a moment, before he said, "Hiro hîdh neñ gurth Esselyth." The tears were flowing freely down the man's face and he didn't attempt to hide them.
"Rest in peace, Esselyth," she said. The pair turned to one another and stared for a moment, allowing the last bits of restlessness to mingle together. They clutched at each other in a hug, crouched on the forest floor, and sobbed quietly together, staining each other's garments with tears.