Dabbles In Ink: Lord Of The Rings One-Shots

Burnout

Thranduil lay awake in his bed deep into the night, thoughts swirling in an endless stream of noise. He squeezed his eyes shut. He shouldn't allow his racing mind to rule over him. He was the King of the Greenwood!--no, not Greenwood, not anymore. Mirkwood they call his realm now. Just the thought of the name made his gut clench. Because for as much as he wanted nothing to do with the outside world, the name they had coined for his realm was accurate. 

Coming to his feet, Thranduil found himself wandering towards his study. The door opened soundlessly into the dim room, lit only by the light of the pale moon that slipped between the pulled curtains.

Lighting a candle he sat, his fingers reaching for the first piece of paper in a large stack off to one corner of his desk. It wasn't until his eyes reached the bottom of the page that he realized he had retained nothing. Habit, nothing more.

Laying the paper down, he felt sick. He rubbed his eyes until he saw stars. Though he would never admit it, he hated this room sometimes. Hated the desk he sat at, the dead he felt each time sat down, the guilt for each moment he was away. When he wasn't in his office, the doorway itself loomed like a threat. And as the realm grew ever darker, his disdain for the growing stack of papers before him made his stomach turn all the more.

He had seen his soldiers--his own son--work through their exhausting to the point of collapse. A dark side of his mind envied the opportunity for physical exhaustion. The undeniable evidence of their sacrifice.

Guilt hit him at the thought and he shook his head. He would not diminish his soldiers sacrifice in that way. 

Still, he couldn't deny the way this room weighed on him. At least when he was in a meeting he could focus and allow time to pass meaninglessly. But here--here the crushing weight of his every failure stared him in the face. Each report a reminder of how he was failing his people. They were dying because he could not find a way to protect them. Because while they were out fighting back the hoards of spiders he was here, skimming papers, unable to focus, and feeling sorry for himself.

This wasn't the first time he had begun to feel this way about his position as king. He had thought it was due to the constant surroundings of his study, the isolation that comes when working alone. But then he had tried working elsewhere. Had tried working in the trees and in several of the common rooms. Nothing helped. Nothing quelled the emptiness gnawing at his bones and in his mind.

He gave a heavy sigh, leaning back in his chair. His eyes slowly unfocused and he let himself wander in elven dreams for awhile. Hours passed until beside him, the moonlight slowly brighten as the sun began to rise. 

Suddenly the doorknob rattled, startling him awake. "Come," he said, brushing back his hair and picking up the paper he had put down earlier.

Blonde hair appeared in the corner of his eye and he looked up. Legolas came and sat on the far end of his desk, biting into an apple with a crunch. A moment passed and the king continued to stare at the paper before him. 

Legolas took another bit of his apple, chewed and then, "We both know you're not reading that, adar."

"Being interrupted will do that to one's concentration," Thranduil murmured and Legolas gave a grin.

But the smile quickly failed and Thranduil felt the young elf's eyes on him.

"You fell asleep in here again didn't you?" Legolas asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

Thranduil set the unread paper yet again and heaved a deep breath. "I'm fine," he said. "What brings you here this early in the morning?"

Legolas frowned, but didn't push the issue for which Thranduil was glad for. The last person he would put his issues on was his son.

Legolas turned to the window and tossed the apple core to the birds as he began to tell Thranduil of his plans for the coming week. The young elf smiled when he told him of the plans he had made with his friends--how they planned to wander north for a few days and see some of his mother's relatives.

Exhaustion still tugged at the elven king's heart, but as he listened to his son drone on, his mind eased it's endless humming. He would continue in this fight to vanquish evil from his forest 

Whether or not it would be enough would remain to be seen, and dread would continue to plague him he was sure of. But he would try, and pray that if it did kill him, that his son would not think less of him for his weakness.

A/N: This is definitely NOT me trying to deal with my own issues through fanfic...nope...not that at all lol

In all seriousness, I wrote this on my phone late one night after I realized our boy Thrandy is ALWAYS working. In almost every Legolas fanfic I read he's working into the or through the night and it's like bro...take a break!

Anyway, I added like 200 words in editing. Idk if it was good editing but and it's been very therapeutic regardless! Let me know what you think!

-Sierra