Save Us

Death

His son still sobbed in his arms when he reached their home. Orc blood and grim stained his clothes and he dared not look back towards the end of the company he had brought with him, reduced to at least the half of what they had been, where he knew she was to never wake again.

She who would never again wake him with her soft kisses or greet him with a smile that illuminated the whole Arda*. She, whose hair shined more than the brightest star and whose eyes were greener than any leaf in their kingdom. She, the woman he had pledged his whole life to in front of all those people and Gods. She, whose voice always calmed him the most and whose hands brought him the best pleasure, comfort, and calmness. She, whom his son would have no memories of, she whose name would no longer be mentioned, she who would be the meaning of his son's tears, of his own too and she whom he needed so, so much. She, the mother of his child and the love of his life, his One. To never live, laugh, cry, moan, scream his name or embrace both him and their son... He could not take it.

Galion approached him and the only thing he did was push the sleeping and sobbing ellon* into the elf's arms as soon as he dismounted his elk. He proceeds to walk through the castle's high wood doors with the heavy weight of death upon his shoulders, his head, and his life. 

No one dared to even look at the grieving king. The man who held his son could do nothing else but try to soothe the stirring boy as the sound of breaking wood and his father's screams were heard everywhere.

The next day came too soon for Thranduil. His room was destroyed, and he had not slept through the night. Her bloody dress, once pure white much like her soul, could not leave his mind, her peaceful expression had been so natural in her that it was as if she would open her eyes at any moment, laugh in his face and tell him 'I am not leaving you for a while, my King!' haunted him. 

The orcs around her, taunting him with his screaming son, whose throat was already raw from crying and screaming for his mother, for naneth to open her eyes and fight the bad creatures, to use the skill the king knew she had, to unleash the deathly warrior that laid underneath those gentle features she possessed, in the background caged with blood running down his platinum blonde hairline... the scene just wouldn't stop repeating itself in front of his eyes. 

He needed only look at Legolas for him to make three heads, if he could call what those disgusting creatures had on top of their neck that, roll to the ground. The ones around his wife went next, he had grabbed both of his swords and made arms, legs, anything he could cut and end life with cross them. 

His warriors took down most of them as he tried to get his scared son from out of the cage he had been put in, and once he successfully had the boy back in his embrace he would not stop whispering ada* and naneth* and he cried and screamed halfway through the way to Greenwood. 

He had not dared look at her more than those minutes when he was still trying to access the situation and his men were already slaying the creatures that kept on coming from everywhere. He had not, he could not, for his and his son's sake, he could not look at her cold and lifeless form... Vilissë would never come back to him.

Galion had moved fast, taking care of the young prince who could only cry silently and try to stop his bobbing head and calm his shaking body was easy, what worried him was the prince's father. Thranduil had left his room at least a hour later than it was usual and carried himself as if nothing had happened. 

He did not ask for the queen's body, he did not ask for his son, he did not say a word to anyone, he merely went with his morning as he normally did. He sat in his throne, read the scrolls that would be brought to him and aided to anything needed, alone.