Thranduil's Desire (Lord of the Rings Fanfiction) - ON HOLD

Chapter 1: Buried Ties

"Ada."

"Ada." Thranduil's mind grew weary as he shifted in his chair. His only son Legolas went on calling for him. "Ada."

"Yes, Legolas. What is it?" his father slowly brought his hand away from his forehead feeling a mild migraine hit him in his constant state of dreariness. He looked up to peer at his son who was now matured and brought up in every way Thranduil had planned. He was proud of his son and felt every bit of love within him only for Legolas, but once his eyes met his son he drew back.

"Ada," his son echoed once more. Looking at his son made him gulp in confusion, yet he was not startled. His eyes grew wider in what seemed like bewilderment as both his hands shift to the railings held up on each side of his throne.

His son looked different and acted different since the last time he saw him. His son now seemed younger as if he were just a mere child. Thranduil's eyes focused, not leaving the child as his son suddenly cupped a hand that appeared out of nowhere.

Thranduil's vision deepened and found the person holding onto his sons hand astonishing.

He shot up, out of his chair finding the person deliberately smile at him after how many hundreds of thousands of years. His soul leaped and was taken back to a time he thought... No, where he knew he had forgotten.

His eyes became intense as a myriad of thoughts bombarded his mind unable to focus on the breath taking creature in front of him.

Thranduil keeping his cool, stood up straight in stiffness as his eyes wondered back to his son. "Ada, Nana's back," Legolas smiled. "Nana's back," he continued to repeat as his voice starts to disappear quietly.

The figure of the two of them stand before Thranduil soon expunged, leaving him stunned in place, wishing he could just see her smile once more, but then it was gone.

"Ada. Ada"

Thranduil's head tilted down, his hand clenched to his chin as his head fidgeted to the side finally waking up to his son emerging through the enormous doors leading to his chambers once more.

Thranduil was seated upon one of his cherished chairs he kept for over a millennium.

His mind still warped from the dream paused as his son moved in closer, now looking like the son he raised and cared for. "Huh," Thranduil sighed. "It was only a dream," he continued, swinging his right foot over his left.

"What?" Legolas questioned, finding his father now gazing at the wall in front of him, simply contemplating as if something took hold of his subconscious. "Uhh, never mind," Legolas shrugged stiffly.

"Father, the meeting? Gandalf is waiting for you," Legolas informed.

"Ahh yes. The meeting," Thranduil sat up off of his chair now seeming normal. His mind now reverting back to the king he always was and the king he always portrayed. Thranduil moved across his chambers to a drawer located beside the wall of his gigantic doors.

He opened it and quickly placed a single pink plush flower petal into a serenading box designed with colorful gems etching out the ends of it. He quickly closed it and exited his chambers accompanied by his son at his side.

They swiftly made their way to the room where Gandalf the White had been waiting.

The doors to the chambers opened abruptly as Thranduil entered. At the sight of Thranduil, Gandalf bowed deferentially in respect and stood up straight once Thranduil rested upon his throne.

His crown etched to perfection glistened radiantly as he finally spoke. "Ahh Gandalf the White. What brings you to my kingdom without warning?" Thranduil said casually, but to any normal creature his casual tone struck fear and pressure into ones calmed state.

"You know I am not very fond of wizards visiting me unannounced," Thranduil's voice deepened, but did not strike fear into Gandalf's heart.

Legolas situated by the side of Gandalf called out, "Father."

Thranduil faced him and gleamed into his sons eyes, sharing this bond no father and son elf had ever had.

"Very well Gandalf. Seeing as my son trusts you with his very life, state what you have come here for." Thranduil's gaze averted back to Gandalf the White who took a moments pause in wait finally tapping his staff onto the hard paved floor.

"Bring her in," Gandalf ordered huffing out a sigh as his eyes narrowed.

"On my way to Rohan," Gandalf started clearing his throat. "I came across a battle field. A battle field like no other."

"What do you mean?" Legolas intervened staring at Gandlaf the White while Thranduil seated upon his throne comfortably listened.

"It was a battle field where humans and orcs had been slain."

"That is impossible," Legolas argued.

"Yes, it is." Thranduil stood up and ushered himself down the stairs heading towards Gandalf the White, his mind simply vexed by what he had been told. "No orcs have been seen roaming our lands for years. They have fled after Sauron had been destroyed," Thranduil paused.

"Now tell me Gandalf. How is that possible?" Thranduil's face loomed around Gandalf's as his body stiff and proud as always turned to him, anger and calmness both expressed on his face.

"Yes... Well. We do not know what the cause may be nor the outcome, but I would care to think she may know otherwise," Gandalf murmured as the doors leading to the chambers struck open.

Tauriel entered, bowing her head slightly to Thranduil as a numerous amount of guards followed behind her.

"Bring her here, so she could grace the woodland king," Gandalf instructed, tilting his staff forward.

"No!," Tauriel said waving her hand, ordering the guards to bring the prominent visitor forward. (No! here means yes or may it be so.)

Once a few of the guards dispersed, a young elf woman, her eyes peering to the ground as her chains bind her wrists together, walked forward as two elven guards stood by her, making sure she would not escape or have the slightest intentions to harm the king.

Thranduil's eyes widened as he took a step backwards.

"What's wrong?" Legolas questioned, taking a step forward to the prisoner.

"Aurellia?" Thranduil questioned making Legolas turn to him as astonishment bewildered his face.

Legolas slowly returned his gaze to the elfish maiden standing before him as his eyes widen in disbelief. "I know that name," Legolas fidgeted. "How do I know that name?" he gazed back to his father with concern as the rest of the company within the room did so as well, yet Thranduil did not show any emotions.

With his hand fastened behind his back he took a step forward towards the captive. Three more steps forward closing in as Gandalf slowly moved to the side. Another step closer to her when suddenly Thranduil swiftly and briskly took hold of Legolas' blade, perched behind his back as he quickly points the sharpened edge of it directly at the maidens neck.

In under a second blood trickled down her skin and onto the blade.

Everyone in the chambers did not speak. They did not move. Only their expressions darkened at the sight of their king holding a blade to the neck of their own kin.

"I am not Aurellia," the elf maiden retorted looking to her elven king calmly, even though her chest quivered restlessly. "I am not her."