The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings Imagines

White Clover pt. 9 -Thranduil

(Warnings: angst with some fluff

Listen to this while reading: "Fall" by Ben&Ben. I included some of the lyrics in this part. Check 'em out guys! Puhon is a word from the dialect/language Bisaya meaning 'someday'.)

You smiled as you crouched down to admire the clovers that had grown near the trees. You've always wanted to try and look for four-leafed clovers. Maybe you'd have some luck and maybe you'd be happier. As you rummaged through the cluster of clovers, you found a white clover.

An image of a white clover in a box appeared in your mind.

You gently picked the white clover and looked at it closely.

While you were admiring the flower, Thranduil was looking at you from a distance. The two of you had gone on a walk in the forest (the safest path they currently have) in an effort to spend most of your time together. He tried to be happy for your sake but when you weren't looking, he couldn't help but sigh.

He wished you could stay.

As if you were able to sense the melancholic look on his face, you stood up and walked to him. He gently patted the space beside him on the log that he was currently sitting on and you sat down. Thranduil put an arm around your waist and drew you closer to him.

"Stop frowning," you muttered. "You look like a grumpy old man."

Thranduil rolled his eyes. "I do not look like one. No matter what I do, I know I am good-looking."

You couldn't help but laugh at how confident he was. Well, he had every right to be like that. Thranduil is indeed good-looking. "Okay, Thranduil, you win," you chortled.

He chuckled but the smile on his face didn't last long. Once again he found himself staring at you with sad eyes, eyes that looked like they were about to shed tears. You looked up and when your eyes met, the corners of his lips turned upwards to form a fond smile. Thranduil took your hand and gingerly placed your palm against his cheek.

Just like in the image you had seen before when you first came here.

"I do not want to bid you farewell," Thranduil admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

"We are lucky we are able to say goodbye," you said. "Not everyone knows when it will be the last time they will see each other again. Not everyone has the opportunity to send someone off properly. Find comfort in such thoughts, Thranduil. We are lucky to have been given this chance to meet."

So the two of you continued to spend the whole day together. He took you to places he loved and showed you the sceneries only he and Legolas knew of. You in turn told him more stories from your world and about yourself in hopes that he'd remember you even after a thousand years had passed. Throughout your day, Thranduil felt more and more complete. His dreams consisted of events that were happening at that very moment.

He had dreamt of walking with you in the forest. He had dreamt of laughing with you. He had dreamt of holding you in his arms. He had dreamt of holding your hands. He had dreamt of feeling so happy and sad at the same time.

All of which was happening right before his opened eyes.

They were no longer just dreams.

It was a shame he only got to see them come true when you were already bound to disappear.

When night had fallen, the two of you made your way back to the caves. For some reason, Thranduil convinced you to stay with him. So you two went to bed in each other's arms. You spent the night whispering to each other, continuing your conversation in the forest earlier.

You had also started to sing to him a song that helped him calm his heart, a song that helped him go to sleep, a song that helped him forget what will happen when he wakes up.

"So why don't we fall in love tonight?

'Cause everything else just feels so right,

And now I just want to hold you tight,

So why don't we just fall...

Hearts are beating

The night is fleeting

There's no denying

Puhon, puhon..."

You didn't go to sleep. You just continued to sing, to help ward off the bad dreams. Hands ran through his silver locks and soft kisses pressed against his cheeks and eyelids. You'd remember this face, memorize how it felt to hold him, etch in your mind this person, carry with you thoughts of him.

And when the sky started to turn into a dark shade of blue, and when the sun started to come up, you carefully moved yourself out of his arms. You took the white clover you had taken from the forest and the bracelet he had given you and placed them on his bedside table.

You looked at the tattoo on your arm and then returned your gaze on Thranduil who was still sleeping peacefully.

For some reason, you knew where you should go. The image of your favorite tree kept on appearing on your mind so you left the room and made your way to the front doors. It seemed luck was on your side and was helping you find your way home. The doors were unlocked and no one was keeping guard at that moment. You slipped out and it was the last time the caves of Mirkwood would ever have you as their guest.

When you saw the tree, you held up your hand and pressed a palm against the trunk. You walked to the other side of the tree and there you no longer saw the forests of Mirkwood. You saw your backyard and your house and your home. Looking back at the path that led back to the caves where Thranduil was, you said a silent farewell and continued on your way.

You disappeared behind the tree and never appeared on the other side.

It was hours after you had left that Thranduil woke up. When he realized that his arms were empty, surprisingly he didn't feel anything. The dread he was expecting to feel wasn't sinking in yet. He could only feel empty, he could only feel that something was missing.

Thranduil could only sit there and stare into nothingness. There was nothing he could do—he knew that even if he ran and looked for you in the forest, he'd never catch sight of you again.

When he saw the white clover and the bracelet on the table, he took them in his hands and stared at them for a long time. He remembered the day he gave the bracelet to you, the feel of your hand in his, the smile on your lips that made him happy.

He stared at them for a long time, remembering the days he had spent with you.

Thranduil was still in shock, but he knew he had to do something. So he took a paper, a quill and an ink bottle and started to draw an image of you. The shock was starting to fade and panic started to bubble inside him. He drew and drew, desperate to finish it as soon as he could, because he was worried he'd start to forget how you looked.

When he was done, he dropped the quill and buried his face in his hands.

The shock had gone, the panic had faded.

What was left was sorrow.

And oh how it gripped his heart in its cold hands.

The shock had gone, the panic had faded, and the sorrow was setting in.

And hours after realizing that you will never come back, Thranduil's throat began to hurt.

The regrets and ifs and maybes haunted him.

Hours after realizing that you will never come back, that was when Thranduil began to cry.