Thranduil Imagines

Imagine: Rejecting Thranduil, part 2

Request for:  @Calaerdes_of_Mirwood and @Timelady2013

Author's note: This part takes place 300 years after part one

"Y/N" The unknown woman's voice utters again

"N-No" You gasp, closing your already shut eyes tighter "L-Leave me a-alone"

"Listen to me, Y/N, you must listen," She says again. This was no normal voice, it was one full of authority and supremity.

Further tangling yourself into the comforter, you mutter an "Okay" your face drenched in sweat and your nightgown plastered to your trembling body.

"You are miserable, desolate. Return to him. He needs you just as much as you need him. Deceive yourself no longer. The ellon slumbering next to you is an ellon who means nothing to you. Why must you live life as if it is a walk through Mordor? Leave Lothlórien, marry the ellon who has truly claimed your heart. You have my blessing, Y/N. You have had it since you first laid eyes on him."

"W-Who are you?" You ask as you gasp for air, her vast knowledge on your behalf and endless misery taking you by alarm

"I think you already know. Do not delay any longer. Go to him, he is still hurting. Remember, you have my blessing..." They reply, their voice fading

"Wait!" You heave, beginning to twist vigorously, resulting in the entanglement of your limbs

"Y/N! Y/N!" You hear someone shout from far away

When their cold hands touch your sweltering cheeks, you spring awake, panting

"Y/N!" Your husband, Rothilion, shouts, pulling you up towards him "Are you all right? You were talking in your sleep."

"I-I'm fine" You groan, brushing away his fondling

"Was it another nightmare, love?" He implies gently

"No...no" You croak "I-I...It was..." You start to explain but choose to stop because there's no possible way to put it in words

"Shhhh...do not speak of it if it pains you, I will get you some water" Rothilion coos, slipping out of bed and leaving your bedroom

You fall back against the bedframe and close your eyes, barely being able to fathom what just happened, let alone fathom what your life has come to.

As the seconds pass, her words keep echoing throughout your racing mind and you know exactly who she was referring to.

Clawing at the soaked matress-from your perspiration-below you, you blow out an agitated, almost fed up breath and jump out of bed

"That's it!" You say to yourself, walking to and throwing your closet doors open

You quickly rid yourself of your drenched nightgown that is hugging your body and grab the first dress you see, throwing it on.

Taking a deep breath, you exit your bedroom and stealthfully make your way down the hall, careful not to run into Rothilion.

Once you're at Lothlórien's edge, you feel a broad weight lift off of your shoulders. Hearing several horses neighs from the distance, you start to run towards the stables. Mounting the first horse you see, with no time to saddle it, you gently kick its side and take off, tears flowing freely down your face.

~°~

Four days later:

Gathering every ounce of courage you have, you jump down from your exhausted steed and stand before the statue of Mirkwood's former queen. Sobbing, you sink to your knees.