My Beautiful Light (Thranduil x OC) **ongoing**

Chapter 1: The Light

Dip, brush, stroke. Dip, brush, rinse. Each stroke of her brush on the canvas was anything but methodical, but it still reminded her of her job as a healer. Perhaps it was the sense of joy that she gets, knowing that she makes a difference in people's lives everyday. The waterfalls she was painting were what she considered to be the centerpiece of Imladris. The water was so clear it reflected the blue of the sky, and from where she sat in the courtyard, the perspective was fantastic. The falls had a calming sound as well, at least from far away. She often told her patients to visit here in this courtyard, simply for a mental break. However, her day of rest was cut short by the frantic pounding of horses' hooves and loud shouts. Painting forgotten, she rushed down the steps of the courtyard to the entrance of Imladris, her green dress billowing behind her.

Once at the gate, elves from Greenwood met her eye. They appeared to have just escaped a battle, blood and dirt mingling their fair features. What caught her eye though, was an ellon who was more injured than the rest. He was riding on an elk, though another ellon rode with him to keep him upright. The healer's eyes went straight to where he clutched his abdomen, blood seeping through his fingers.

"We need a healer for my father. Is Lord Elrond here?" An ellon with platinum blonde hair and blue eyes like the water she had just been painting asked her, fear flashing across his face. He was the one holding the injured ellon, and the healer's heart couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. The sight was so familiar...

"I'm afraid not, he's on business in Lothlorien. Perhaps I can help?" The healer tore her eyes away from the injured ellon to his son, who seemed to grow more fearful. Trying to ease his worry, she continued by introducing herself. "I am Calavanya, one of Lord Elrond's advisers and head healer. I can help him." Calavanya motioned for a few elves to come forward, and they helped the son take his father off the elk. Lindir, another advisor of Elrond, appeared, and Calavanya instructed him by saying, "Have a stable hand put their horses and the elk in the stables. I would like you to personally escort our new guests to their rooms. Also, send a scribe to the healing halls. Thank you, Lindir." With a nod of his head, Lindir left and did what was asked of him. Calavanya told the elves with the injured ellon to follow her, and they quickly made their way to the healing rooms.

Calavanya tried to slow the racing of her heart. The scene before her was all too familiar, but she couldn't dwell on that now. Turning her attention to the son, she was about to ask what happened, until she noticed the fine silver circlet he wore on his brow. She then realized that this must be the Prince of Greenwood, Legolas; that meant the injured ellon was the king, Thranduil. This only made her job that much more important.

"What happened?" Calavanya asked Legolas. They were nearly to the healing room, but she had to know what happened so she could be prepared.

"Around two days after we left Lothlorien, when we were attacked by orcs. My father was struck by a poisoned blade." She sensed there was something he wasn't telling her, but didn't push. It felt more of a personal matter. He continued by saying, "I'm surprised we didn't see Lord Elrond during our stay."

"It's possible he could have arrived after you left. For now, let's focus on your father."

The elves had placed Thranduil on a table in the center of the room, awaiting the healer's instructions. Calavanya had already started ripping the rest of his tunic to see the rest of his wound; to put it simply, it didn't look good.

"I need some warm water, fresh bandages, athelas, and some lavender oil," Calavanya ordered, and her assistant healers rushed to grab everything. Calavanya inspected his face next, and it was here she paused. "Grab me some peppermint oil and cold water as well!" The king was showing the beginnings of a fever, something she couldn't let happen.