Heat, darkness and dust- that was all that is left of the world now. The ground that the lone elf stood on is tinged with black and red. The temperature of the dirt was high enough to violently distort the air.
It must have been burning. He could only muse, for he could not feel it. Not anymore. His naked soul could no longer experience the world as his bare body once did.
He walked forward, only to stop a couple of steps later. He could no longer go further, for this is where his realm ends - or had ended, rather. For countless millennia, the great trees of his kingdom stood here, acting as self-appointed barriers that separated him and his people from the outside world. Valiantly, the trees stood and protected them as the prosperous Greenwood the Great, the ill Mirkwood, and finally the healed Wood of Greenleaves. That was a couple of billion years ago, predating the time of those horrid metal beasts that the sons of men mounted.
He turned around and proceeded to walk again, tracing the paths that once graced ground for the many billionth time. He could no longer see them now, time had erased them a long time ago much like everything else in this world.
He's been here for so long now, way longer than any elf that ever lingered. Unlike the elves of other realms, he stayed in the woods to fulfill the oath he gave to his people so long ago. He vowed to his people he will stay with them and protect them until the end of time. And so, he lingered. As did a few thousand wood elves. Soon, he and his subjects lost their bodies to their all-consuming souls. It was an agonizingly slow process that lasted over an age, but they bravely met their fate with the peaceful acceptance of the inevitable.
One by one, the woods took them, embracing their ancient souls until their souls merged and became one with the trees. He wanted to join them too, but he resisted the temptation until the last elf finally became one with the woods just like everyone else. It was already too late for him then, however, for the sons of men soon came and claimed his land. He could not stop them nor protect what was left of the woods, for magic ceased to exist in the world once the time of the elves came to a rest.
He could still remember the day when the reign of elves ended. With initial endearment, he watched the humans from afar, looking over them as they clumsily learned how to walk on their own for the first time without the guidance of the elves nor the meddling of the wizards. He watched as the elves and everything else that is magical faded into the whispers of myths. The humans moved forward, slowly at first, as though trying to gain a momentum until they found themselves running at a speed too frighteningly quick for the rest of the world to follow.
First came their terrible weapons forged with metal alloys that spat fire and cracked like thunder, then came the metallic beasts and steeds they used to explore the world and destroy the pathetic remains of his hollow kingdom. The mortals replaced the great ancient trees with rigid manmade titans made of concrete and steel that stood so high that they could have touched the sky. But like everything else in the world, they were gone now too, and only the stray rubbles here and there proved that they once existed.
Some days he would find himself wondering if the time of the elves had been nothing but a figment of his imagination, even the time of men would sometimes feel like nothing but an old dream to him. He wasn't quite sure if that would be better than everything being real.
He stopped walking as his eyes caught a flare of red above him. He used to think that the sun and the moon were eternal, but now, standing here at the edge of the universe, he realized that not even those could outrun the wrath of time. His gaze focused on the sun. What used to be a majestic golden guardian above the sky was now nothing more than an angry crimson fire. He turned his eyes towards the pitch black sky, hoping to see the stars he used to love so much. But even those were gone now as well.
The flare of the sun grew angrier and harsher. He could see violent tendrils of flames reaching out towards nothing, as though it was trying to get a lick of the nonexistent stars in front of it. The hungry sun had already consumed two planets prior to the one he is standing on right now, and he knew that it would come for him soon. It was so close now that he felt like he could touch it, feel it in his ancient soul.
The ground rumbled beneath his feet, creaking and breaking. The sun came even closer, beckoning him. For the first time in a few million years, he smiled, ready to embrace the lonely star with what was left of his tired and weary soul.
And so, the breaking of the world came, with an Elvenking with no kingdom as its sole witness.
A/N: I remember seeing a headcanon a long time ago about how Thranduil probably never sailed for Valinor to stay for his people which prompted me to wonder about the lingerers should the end of the world come. I also think a lot about the end of the universe. Idk I have issues.