Suilad, mellon, and thank you so much for showing interest in this story! Here, I have compiled a selection of the life of YOU, yes, YOU dear reader, in the world of Middle Earth. Who will your path lead you to fall for?
Preference chapters that are...
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No.
Thranduil wakes with a start. By the Valar, it isn't so! The darkness in his bedroom seems overwhelming and he is frozen in place. The striking images circling across his mind of war and flame and death, your death, whispering through the night. His heartbeat is rapid and he can hardly find the resolve to calm himself. It was only a dream, he tries to tell himself, a dream. Your screams still echo in his mind, though, and he bows his head upon his knees, covering his ears though he knows it will not help. The demons of his love are upon him and he can hardly bear it. He has not had a nightmare in years, why now? Could it be..? Yes, it must.
He has to tell you how he feels.
Out of bed in an instant, he doesn't bother with shoes and wraps a shawl around himself for a small coverage of decency. He moves to the door, then backtracks and lights a candle, taking it with him as he steps out into the hall. The only sounds of life are from nocturnal creatures in the woods around, below, and above, as well as the faint footsteps of guards on duty floors below and outside the palace. Urgency drives him forward down the familiar path to your quarters. He does not bother to knock, believing you to be fast asleep.
And indeed, you are in slumber, but as the door hits the wall, opened quite harshly, you are awakened. Squinting against the candlelight, you raise your hand sleepily above your face.
"Who's there?"
Your voice is mumbled and you cover your mouth with your blanket, trying to stifle a yawn. Thranduil comes into the room, half-closing the door behind him, and places the candle on your bedside table. He sits on the side of your bed and you squint up at him, your fingers slightly tightening their grip on the hem of your blanket.
"Thranduil?"
"I need to tell you something."
You close your eyes and lean back against your pillow, but mutter, "I'm listening."
"I forget my words when I'm around you. The sun is never as bright as your smile. You're a wonderful dancer. I want to be a father someday."
You open one eye and look at him, clearly confused. "You are making very little sense right now."
"... I see." He shifts in his position and stares at your face as your chest rises and falls beneath the blanket. "I'm in love with you."
You don't answer for a long moment, then nudge his side with your knee. "Am I dreaming?"
"No..."
"Are you certain?" You open your eyes, wholly this time, and he can tell you're making an effort to wake up fully. "This seems like a dream."
"Ah." He pauses, then stands up, quickly enough that the mattress tilts at the change in weight balance. "You are right, it is only a dream."
"Mmmm." You curl into your pillow more and he pats your arm with a limp hand.
