Be warn, this chapter is long and got a shitty plot. Read at your own risks.
~•~
He was the ice wrapped in flesh.
He was the storm that ever raging underneath the skin.
He was unforgiving.
He was merciless.
He had grown bitter since the death of the Queen.
He had forgotten.
He had lost a heir.
And so he rage.
"Adar-" crash! She fought the urge to flinch when the golden chalice almost collided with her face.
"Out." It was soft but the ice behind it was hard to miss.
"Please Adar, do not be like this." She plead. She do not want to see her father destroying himself even further.
She does not need for the ice to encased him even more.
"I said out." The word was curt and sharp.
Electric blue eyes pinned her to the spot. Daring her to come even closer to him and tried to stop him from lashing out his anger.
"Adar, you are scaring the elves-"
In a swift, smooth movement, Thranduil slithered forward and grabbed her by the throat, before slamming her down to the floor.
His eyes widened with anger and his nose flared. There was a tinge of madness in the blue eyes. His grip tightened, choking her. She trembled beneath him, shaking with fear and the lack of oxygen.
"Don't you dare ordering me around. You're good for nothing. There's no suitor asking for your hand, you have no talent. You're nothing!" He hissed to her ear.
Pain.
It's hurts.
Her chest tightened as tears sprung to her eyes. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood as her face scrunched up. Thranduil loosened his hold and turned his back to her.
"Out." She did.
She slammed the door behind her and ran to her chamber.
She couldn't take this anymore. This torture, this pain, this humiliation.
She couldn't take this anymore.
Not after hundreds of years living in abandonment, living in this painful way.
He always forget about her. Favouring her twin brother. The heir. The son. The warrior.
The child that took after the mother.
Legolas.
She gripped the clothe where her heart should be and sunk to the floor. Falling into pieces after years of fighting. Breaking. It was the last straw for her.
Stupid Legolas.
Always be the one who had the chance to escape.
Always be the one who have all the love of their father.
Always be the favoured one.
Always be the one who takes everything for the granted.
Stupid Legolas for running away from the love she always wanted.
With a shaky hand she fumbled with the drawer handled before ransacking it. The light in her eyes faded into dull black as she gripped the hilt of her dagger and brought it down to her wrist.
A little pressure, before she push it deeper and brought it across the skin.
YOU ARE READING
Loki and Thranduil Imagines
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