Time Isn't Healing [Thranduil Fanfiction/The Hobbit]

I. Thranduil. Loss and Pain (Part 1)

The Elves were losing, he could see that their chance of making out of the fight and alive was unlikely. It's not time to be pessimistic, Thranduil. He cursed himself for that. The last thing they needed was a thought of failing. Oropher had given his order, tonight, shall they fight.

The heat had got to an unbearable point where breathing was even harder when you were in a burning cottage. Made it through to thick smoke, Thranduil sighted a shadow approaching him; it was a tall creature with its skin paler than the moon. The Orc too, saw the prince as its let go of an agressive sound. An axe came down in a swift but the Elven prince acted quicker; Thranduil raised his sword and slashed the hiddeous Orc's throat in one move. It laid still beneath his feet as Thranduil kicked it, hard.

King Oropher was fighting the evil creatures off with Lord Elrond supporting him from the back. Thranduil had always looked up to his father. A good king, Oropher was, and a great father. Thranduil then looked at the field around him, so this is a batterfield. Watered with blood and limp of both our foes and our kins. He looked around him for another company, the Orcs were off fighting Elendil's guards gave him some good seconds to look for a certain black haired.

Never in Prince Thranduil's life had he been that fightened. And it were not the roaring flames surrounding them, not the painful groans as his kins fell down nor was it the his burning left cheek. He could not find her anywhere, though he had always kept an eye on her while battling the foes long side with his father - the King, he later lost track of Faeryn.

The elleth was there right before the ugly Orc came and ended up having its throat slitted by Thranduil. She was right there, brave and strong, ready to take anything on her way down with her trusted bow and sword. Faeryn was the easiest for Thranduil to notice, they grew up together, met everyday and that he had decided to give her extra concern for today, not that he didn't everyday before. At this moment, panic grew inside Thranduil, as fast and strong as the ocean's tide, Faeryn had disappeared and there was no way he could make sure that her breathing was still proceeding.

Faeryn was not supposed to be here. She was supposed to be inside the palace's gate right now, safe and sound from this awful slaughtering with blood and fire roaring. However, the elleth became as stubborn as she could be yesterday, pleading Oropher to let her join the army, join Thranduil - their prince, his son and her friend to their uncertain death. Despite being a good warrior Faeryn was, it angered Thranduil greatly that she would no longer be safe as she should.

"FAERYN!" Thranduil called for Faeryn's name. Though the chaotic sound of weapons smashing and collided made the frantic call impossible to hear, Thranduil himself was not in his right mind to think such rational thing. His main priority now was to find Faeryn, he couldn't let her die; Thrainduil knew his friend was clever, he could only hope she was clever enough to not let herself killed.

Suddenly, Thranduil was sent flying by an impact, the prince was in the air, tumbling through the smoke like a ragged doll until his back landed on the ashy solid ground. Thranduil gasped in pain, he found himself lucky that his spine wasn't snapped in half as the result of the fall, nor did his ribs break. An orc came marching towards the prince, or was it three Orcs, Thranduil had a hard time telling, his vision had failed him as his head was pounding.

"AN ELF! I SHALL SLAUGHTER YOU TO YOUR DEATH!" It roared in wrath, the horrid sound echoed through the flame, but still, was nothing compared to its surrounding.

Thranduil clenched his hand, where his sword should have been was nothing but air. Soon the filfthy creature would be looking down at the young prince and with one step of its foot, his life would end. Thranduil crawled as fast as he could in his current state, as he tried to get further from this death he didn't want; Thranduil's eyes darted wildly to both sides until they landed on the silvery weapon laying six feets from his reach. He cursed, realizing by the time he get his hands on the sword, he would be no more than a squashed bug. Thranduil's heart tightened as he prepared for the worst to come. His father was still fighting long side with the lords and elves, they would be alright, the only thing Thranduil regretted that he couldn't see Faeryn for one last time.

"DDDDIIIIEEEEEE!"

The Orc roared again, it was ready to stomp its foot on the weaponless prince when it let out a piercing screech and ate the dirt. An arrow was digged deep into the Orc's skull, right in the middle of the back of its head; the creature did not make another sound, letting Thranduil know it was dead now.

Someone ran towards Thranduil and pulled him up on his feet by the collar.

"That was close!" The person said, more like yelling actually, that Thranduil could tell since unless you yell, hardly would there be any normal conversation.

Stood in front of him was Faeryn, the elleth looked terrible; her long black hair was everywhere and there was no mistake that it was smoking, there were scratches on Faeryn's face which looked pretty bad and her armor was rubbish. Still, that signature glowing smile was on her face as she looked at him, her green eyes twinkling with determination.

"Keep yourself together, my prince. I don't think I will like you flat!" Thranduil scoffed at the comment. It was amazing how Faeryn could save him some of her sense of humour, though the prince refused to picture himself flat, like what she said.

As he tilted his head to the side, Faeryn clenched her jaw by the sight of the burn on Thranduil's left cheek. "You're hurt!" The she elf swifted herself closer to her friend. "This isn't good... We have to get out of here now! Pride or not, we are losing!" Faeryn let him lean on her as she began to drag him to wherever she thought would be safe for a while.

"My father..." Thranduil protested, he could not leave now, nor would he. King Oropher needed every help he could have, what kind of son he was to leave his father when in need?

"The King is strong, Thranduil, he will not fall. But you will." She told him in a harsh tone, noticing him that she did not want any argument. Faeryn touched Thranduil's wound, a great pain washed over him and his body tightened up as he willed to not make a sound; then came the most comfortable feeling Thranduil had ever felt since the day he was born, the ease replacing all the burning and pain. Faeryn's magic had worked.

"You are not done yet. This is all I can do for now, to ease your pain. You need a healer, Thranduil. My magic doesn't heal." The elleth sighed, her hand was still on his cheek, tenderly caressing it with such concern.

"Thank y... DUCK!"

A dagger came flying at them before the prince got to finish his sentence. As quickly as Thranduil acted, he pushed Faeryn to the ground, using his body to shield her as the metal missed them by merely an inch.

Realizing there was no way could they run away from the battle, the two elves quickly found a stand as they were all ready to fight.

Thranduil took a sword from a body of his fallen kin and held it tightly between his fingers, promised himself that he would not slip it away. The prince looked to his side where the small, beautiful elleth was standing. They had fought after he was acknowledged that Faeryn would also be siding them fighting and did not made a truce even after the war broke out. But now, his friend was here, she was bracing herself to fight for him, for their kin, Thranduil felt like he was blessed by Faeryn's existance.

"Remember I like you better with a head, Faeryn." Thranduil said but his eyes were dead focus on the approaching foes, he could tell Faeryn was moving next to him, properly tightening her grapse on the sword.

"That's my line, Thranduil." She laughed merrily. And then they launched forward, together.