Heart Like Yours

Chapter 1: Gone

The darkness sipped in. Unnatural creatures rampaged his land. Assaults on his people happened almost every day. His army could hardly have a spared moment. Without the protection of an elf ring, there were endless things a king needed to attend to: patrol the borders, protect trade routes, expand the army and train the recruits, build strongholds underground that were big enough to accommodate everyone, and persuade his tree-loving people to adopt a less preferred but much safer lifestyle.

But he did thank Valar every day for having his queen by his side, sharing his heavy burdens. And their little green leaf could always shed sunshine to their day, no matter how bad it may have been.

Then there was that fateful day. Their summer palace was under unprecedented attack of giant spiders.

"Take Legolas and leave!"

That was the last thing he said to her, bursting into their private quarters with swords in his hands, dark blood splatters on his face. Just by one look, his wife understood the gravity of the situation. Nodded without a word, she immediately took down her swords, bow, and arrows from the wall, grabbed their son, who was playing on the carpet, and ran out of the room through another exit.

It was a long and extremely tough battle. If the dark force which drove giant spiders from the south intended to wipe the entire royal family of the woodland realm in one attack, he had to be disappointed. He smirked to himself while cutting one more giant spider into pieces, hours after dark. When the first sunlight broke the following dawn, they won. But winning comes at a cost.

Called his deputy-in-command to clean the battlefield and tended the wounded, he rushed back to the fortress where his wife and son should be going. But only by then, he found out that an army of orcs ambushed the queen and her guards half the way.

"My lady fought as valiantly as she has always been. But they were too many. She is alive. They took her to the north. My lord, you must save her." His queen's most trusted lady-in-waiting pointed him to the safe hideout of the little prince and then exhaled her last breath. Fear and worry was now plastered on the Kings face. His queen was in danger. That moment felt like the end of the world to him. Little did he know, the worst is yet to come.

The anxiety and worries burning inside him could have killed if he allowed a single moment of stillness. But when they finally caught up the orc army, the orcs were just about to disappear inside the gates of Gundabad, dragging a blood-stained white figure with them.

On the second night, his cunning captain caught a group of patrolling orcs who carelessly wandered too far away out of the gates. The interrogation was a success too. They found out where the queen was taken – a building close to the centre instead of the usual place they tortured elven captives. Perhaps there was still a chance? He felt a tiny flame of hope. Swallowed his pride, he and his bravest soldiers assumed the orcs' identities and sneaked in.

Things went well enough at the beginning. But they were found out shortly after they entered the building. Armed orcs flocked in. He must have killed over 200 to get to the cell his wife supposedly be held. Outside the thick wooden door, he ran into the most vicious orc he has ever encountered. Pale as a ghost, in dirty armour and helmet, waving a huge knife towards him.

Finally, Thranduil saw an open and flex his sword without hesitation. The orc's right arm flew off. Black blood splashing out, the creature screamed. He dodged the blood with disgust and immediately followed the attack with both of his swords stabbed into the creature's chest. They went in so deep that only the blade handles were left outside.

He pulled out his swords, kicked the body aside, and broke into the cell – she was not there. There was only one dark wizard in the room, wand in hand, evil instruments producing ominous black smoke on a long table in front of him. On the right, there was a rack where they must have tied her to recently. He could see fresh blood and debris of her white dress on the floor. Before the wizard could even raise his ward and react, he forcefully kicked the table, knocking the wizard down.

"Where is my Elven Queen?!"

"I am afraid you are too late." The wizard smirked maliciously, fanatic burning in his eyes:" I have found a way to recondition even one of the most powerful elves in two days. Lord Sauron must be so very pleased and reward me greatly!"

Suddenly the wizard screamed as one of his ears just got cut off. "One more time - where is she?" Thranduil yelled now the sword was back to the Wizards throat again. "W...wait! Ah, now I recognised you, noble Elven King. How brave of you to get into orcs' heartland for your wife. But I have already succeeded. Pity not only you will find her one among Lord Azog now, but you yourself may become one soo..." He killed the wizard before he could finish the sentence.

Right before he exited the door, he stepped on something. It was his wife's headdress, tore down and distorted, with stains of blood. He kneeled to pick it up. And that was the moment he saw it - the unmistakable tiny white gem on the inner side of his wife's wedding ring shimmering on that pale orc's dead and loosely open hand.

His heart sank.

The earth just cracked under his feet, and he was falling into a bottomless pit. Suddenly all his strengths escaped him. The helmet dropped out of his hands, followed by himself on his knees to the floor. How miserably he had failed! Not only did he not save her, but he also had kil...

He couldn't think. For a moment, he couldn't even breathe. All the fighting happening around him or everything in this world blurred into the background. The great angst took over. He lost her. His dear Aredhel. Queen of Mirkwood.

He did not die.

He was told later his brave soldiers dragged him out of the building before the fire they set burnt it to the ground. His backup army arrived in time to start a frontal assault, distracted the orc army, and gave them a break to escape. It was found out later, as he suspected, the giant spiders and orcs attacks were a coordinated effort by the dark force of the south.

But he cannot recall any of these. The next thing he remembered was Legolas by his bedside, holding his hand and crying "Ada". Tears were streaming down the baby's face, with a terrified look in his eyes. The poor boy had just lost his mother and he had just lost his wife.