Lotr oneshots

Never again - Thranduil x reader

Thranduil paced restlessly in his throne room, his jaw tight and eyes narrowed. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows around him, mirroring the tension roiling inside. A stranger in dark robes had entered his kingdom-someone brazen enough to slip past his guards and make their way here, unannounced, uninvited.

"Whoever you are, you chose the wrong path," he muttered, his voice a low growl as he waited, fingers tapping the hilt of his sword.

The doors to the throne room swung open, and a figure cloaked in a black robe walked in silently, stopping in the center of the room. Her presence sent a strange, uneasy feeling through him, something he couldn't explain. Her head was bowed, her face hidden by the deep hood of her cloak, and she stood there, unusually calm in the face of his fury.

"State your name and your purpose," Thranduil demanded, his voice sharp. He felt an old, forgotten ache stir in his chest, as if something he'd locked away long ago was clawing its way back. But he held it down. This figure, whoever she was, had no place here.

The silence stretched on, the figure saying nothing, and his patience wore thin.

"I will not ask again. Who are you?" Thranduil's voice was steel, his fingers twitching around his sword hilt.

At last, the woman lifted her head. She drew back her hood, revealing a face that Thranduil never thought he'd see again, a face that had haunted his dreams for centuries. He froze, his heart skipping a beat. Her hair fell in soft (h/c) waves, her eyes-those familiar, piercing eyes-meeting his. It was her. The woman he had lost, the mother of his son, the love he had buried long ago.

"No..." His voice barely escaped him, trembling with disbelief. "You... you cannot be here. You were lost."

She took a slow step forward, her gaze soft, the smallest hint of a smile on her lips. "Thranduil," she mumbled. her voice like a whisper of wind through the trees.

But Thranduil's shock quickly gave way to a deep, festering anger. He clenched his jaw, lifting his sword, torn between heartbreak and a fury he could not contain. This could not be real. She had been lost-taken, torn from him by the orcs after Legolas's birth. He'd grieved, accepted the silence, tried to bury the pain in a hundred ways. To see her here now felt like a cruel trick, a wound ripped open once more.

"You...how dare you appear here like this, a phantom!" he hissed, anger lighting his eyes. "Do you think you can haunt me? Is that why you've come?"

"Thranduil," she pleaded softly, but before she could say more, a voice broke through the silence, sharp and furious.

"Enough!"

Thranduil turned, stunned, as Legolas stormed into the room, his blue eyes blazing with an intensity Thranduil had never seen in his son. The young elf's entire stance was protective as he strode forward, standing between his father and the woman. His gaze was fierce, his shoulders set, like a lion ready to fight.

"You will not harm her," Legolas spat, his voice low and dangerous. "You will not harm my mother."

Thranduil's, grip on his sword loosened as he took in Legolas's defensive behavior, the raw anger in his son's voice.

"Legolas..." he started, unsure of how to even form the words.

But Legolas wasn't listening. His eyes, bright and blazing, were fixed on Thranduil, as though he were daring his father to deny it. "All these years, Father," he said. "She has been alive. She fought her way back. She survived while we assumed the worst." His voice cracked with fury and pain. "Do you know how long I have kept this secret?"

Thranduil stared at him, stunned, feeling the words strike him like a blow. "You...knew?"

"Yes," Legolas snapped, his fists clenched. "I've been visiting her, whenever I could. She was there, waiting for us, waiting for you. But every time I wanted to tell you, I saw that look in your eyes. The way you held onto your anger, your grief, and I knew you'd never believe it." His voice softened, though the anger lingered. "She's fought every day to come back to us, and you raise a sword against her?"

Thranduil's hand slipped from his weapon, his heart heavy and broken. He looked from Legolas to the woman before him-his queen, Legolas's mother-and the weight of every year he'd spent grieving crashed over him, forcing him to see the truth.

The woman took a small step forward, her gaze meeting his with a calm that had only grown stronger over the years. "I have come home, Thranduil," she said gently. "After everything, I am here."

For a long moment, Thranduil could'nt speak. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers trembling as he touched her hand, feeling the warmth he had convinced himself he would never feel again.

"Forgive me," he whispered. "I... I thought I had lost you."

Legolas watched them, his shoulders lowering as some of the tension drained from him. And for the first time in centuries, the family was together. Mirkwood had its queen once again.

Thranduil looked over to Legolas, the regret thick in his voice. "I... I am sorry, my son. For making you bear this secret alone."

Legolas nodded a small hint of understanding in his eyes. "Just... do not fail her again, Father."

Thranduil looked back at her, his hand still wrapped around hers, feeling hope, tentative and fragile, flicker back to life within him. "Never again," he vowed quietly, his voice filled with more emotion than he'd felt in centuries. "Never again."