When he shall die, take him & cut him out in little stars, & he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night & pay no worship to the garish sun.
Thranduil hadn't remembered much after the blanket of white heat fell over his face. For a moment he saw the serpent's gleaming yellow eyes, he heard his own voice commanding his army to fallback, and he imagined his son's face.
Legolas was far too young have joined the battle against the beasts. And he was ever thankful for that.
Yet, after Thranduil collapsed back after receiving the brunt of the blast of flame, another elf came to mind. A young elf maid; Rosdes
His breath left his lips and he fell with a crash to the floor, her soft voice echoing in his ear as his world went dark.
"Your eyes sparkle in such a intriguing way when you look onto treasure, Thranduil.
Like the night sky... like a thousand and one stars… like you've never seen beauty until that moment."
"And…?" came his own voice from a conversation long since past. "Diamonds, rubies, gold. It intrigues me."
"Why?" she questioned gently. "Why does something with no life of its own force such regal elves to their knees?"
"Perhaps because it is the one thing I can never have. It's not possible to acquire all I wish to possess.
So many white gems my land will put the iridescence of the moon to shame.
So many stones of dark indigo and purple, you'd think you could reach into the gleaming blackness of the night itself and pull back a jewel so magnificent… you'd never feel the need to look back again."
Her lovely lenient voice sighed, "When we leave these lands… forever… I think you'll become that of which you speak."
He made a small laugh, "For you to keep around you neck?"
"No," she protested. "No… not at all something so earthly. Something that gleams forever, something that certainly does put the moon and stars to shame."
"Well… we'll have to just wait and see about that," he answered a bit mockingly.
"But I know it for certain, Thranduil, my heart. I know it," she purred.
As he returned to the serpent's massacre, he felt one of his struggling to help him up, crying out that the King had fallen.
And then, in a moment of blinding pain, he felt the searing burn left on his face and body.
"What makes you so certain?" he asked.
"It has come to me in a vision. I saw our future. I saw countless gleaming stars and us surrounded by white light. I saw us returning home."
"You and you puerile fantasies," he scoffed. "I do not think I will die among so many stars. I don't think I will die at all, come to think of it."
She laughed, "Do you not understand my words? We will live forever as something more than jewels, than gems, in the mist of the skies, in the company of the stars. As if time had never touched us and this world left not but a single tear on our skin."
Thranduil thrashed against the elf trying to support him. The burning world around them was in slow motion. The dark, death ridden, and hopeless battle scene had become a blood bath faster than anyone had anticipated. Many were lost that day, many more than Thranduil could have possibly feared.
"No…" she continued realizing he was not going to agree with her, "I suppose you'd rather stay here, cursed on earth, fighting you battle tooth and nail, for… rocks. For shiny stones and pretty, smooth, pebbles."
"I will be richer than any elf-king could dare to imagine. You will be quite pleased with me then, won't you?"
"I still could not possibly imagine why you had put so much effort into such a thing."
"Well I cannot possibly imagine how the idea of eternal wealth does not interest you!"
She laughed humorlessly, "But do you not understand, my love? Your eternal wealth is nothing without eternal life. Or without I," she added cheekily.
Thranduil awoke in a tent not far from the battleground. He knew, in a moment of disappointing and stinging remorse, he had failed.
He attempted to sit up but the pain was far too great. He also noticed someone had placed a bandage over his left eye.
Reaching to touch his wound he came to the alarming realization that there was nothing covering the side of his face, in fact, it wasn't even an open wound, but nothing. The fire had burned away his skin straight to the bone and he was partially blinded.
His face twisted into a deep frown and he cried out in a yell of anguish and shock.
"How can I argue with that simple fact, my dear? If you leave me, I will find it quite impossible to go on..."
"Even… if you had your treasure at last?"
He stared to her for a long moment, "Rosdes, without you, all the treasure this world has to offer loses its glimmer."
But that was not true. It only gained its indescribable allure and became an endless black nothing leading him further down a path worth no purpose.
It was what had brought him, and his faithful army, to face the serpents that day.
And, consequentially, it would be what he would regret for the rest of his days.
Thranduil flailed in the blood stained cot, his tears bringing a seething hurt to the open flesh.
"Rosdes," he muttered through the turmoil.
"You are lost in your lust for wealth."
"I know," he cried just above a whisper.
"You have failed your people today."
"I'm not worthy of the power. I can't be like him… like my father."
"No you cannot."
He shut his eyes tightly, "It's over now."
"…No."
He opened his eyes to see a beautiful elf maid in a flowing lavender gown that blew in the still, smoky, air. She had pail skin, long hair of almost white, a challenging glare of cat-like mint-colored eyes, and large lips with the softest shade of pink to them. They pulled into a smile as he eyed her mesmerized.
An ironic smirk came upon the fallen king's lips, "I told you I was not meant to die among the stars."
"No, my King, you were not meant to die at all."
"Then why have you returned to me to see me in such a disgraceful state?" he quested as she kneeled beside him.
"Have you not something to say to me?"
He searched her kind eyes for a hint as to what to say.
"I cannot go on as deformed a cursed hobgoblin!" he finally spat.
"Hush," she said gently placing her hand on his charred face. "There is always a way to mask all scars and things we wish not to remember."
"But how can I mask that which will always read across my face? Even if others do not see… I know what will glare back at me in the mirror. And I'll never be able to forget the monster that did this to me."
She gently shook her head, "My king, even in the stars of the sky I served you. Even after I drew my last breath, and far long after my bones turned to dust and blew along with the breeze, I served you. Your people will look to you still. Mirkwood will not fall. And… Legolas will ever love you unconditionally."
"Legolas…" he gasped, "He must never know."
She took his hand, "He will. And it will not altar his adoration in the slightest. He always did favor his beloved Ada," she added with her same playful grin.
He forced a small smile then taking in her beauty.
"How… how are you here, Rosdes?"
"Oh, Thranduil, I've never left you."
He struggled to keep his emotions hidden, as he used to, but this time he saw such an act to lack all logic and sense.
"You were the only jewel, the only fortune, that ever truly mattered. Yet, not a battle of a hundred years with the sacrifice of every elven warrior could be worthy of. And I knew it all too late… Not until after you had left me did I realize… I had the greatest treasure already in the palm of my hand. More valuable than every last golden coin guarded by some demonic creature."
"No, no, no, my king. We honored each other as something more than gold and jewels. I remember it clearly. So do not cry. There is a spot I have saved for you. Right next to me, above it this world. And it shall be just as I said. We will be immortal yet."
He reached to her face swallowing his sadness, "And… are the stars all you had wished them to be?"
Her eyes twinkled with an unearthly glint, "Far better, my love."
Just when his hand was about to brush her cheek, he blinked, and instead of a private meeting with his lost wife, there were his elves, rushing around him, trying to salvage his spirit.
"He's opening his eyes!" cried one.
Thranduil looked to the elf before assuring him with a small, weary, smile. The young elf smiled back and nodded.
"Mela en' coiamin," he spoke looking to the ceiling closing his eyes, "cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'…"
*Mela en' coiamin – love of my life
*Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au' – my heart shall weep until it sees thee again