Full Summary:

Alexandria had her entire life planned out, everything was perfect in her eyes. Then, nothing. Everything was ripped away from her, everything that she thought was true was nothing but lies, and falsehoods. How will she begin over, begin to move on with her life? To make herself see the reality of what has happened, that the reality of everything she had was fake. The end was never really the end. Death was just the beginning. (Thranduil x Oc)

Fair warning, (but also spoiler) Girl/woman falls into Middle-Earth,

she does turn elven based on a drink Tolkien wrote about called,

Limpë

Drink of the Elves which was very fragrant and not unlike Miruvor in its healing abilities. This drink is said to have been able to change a man into an Elf with one sip. Eriol is the only one known in history to do so.

Chapter One

Pain. So much pain. A fuzzy, blurry onslaught of memories, her vision clouded around her in a swirl of red and green, screams echoed around. Darkness. A darkness enveloped her entirely, nothing was left. Light, a pinprick of light, like a shard of hope shimmering in the distance. Reaching, hoping, praying, she fell. Breathless, and weak her eyes flickered open landing on a flower so pale, and pink in colour it looked white in the shining sun floating in the water it sat carefree letting the current take it where ever fate saw fit.

The young woman lay haphazardly in the brook, waves crashing into the side of her body gently being pushed like the water lily though she carried none of the grace or beauty it beheld. Her blood ran into the blue waters shading them red, making the pale pink of the lilies seemingly come to life. Forcing herself out of the waters she staggered onwards though she no longer remembered where she was, or how she came to be here. Her body was in shock and felt no pain, everything was surreal as she stumbled through the forest.

What she was escaping that had her on the edge of death. She'd come across some sort of battle, it made her blood run cold, sent shivers upon her spine watching the silver metal puncture the creature's body coming out red, and glistening. She could still see it the blade that cut into her own body, it gleamed and shone in the same way. It was the only thing that she could remember before the darkness. Unconsciously she staggered away from the battle falling to the ground along the brook-side the pale pink water lily floating down passing her completely as she fell back into darkness.

Screams filled the air, the breathless screams of dying soldiers. Blood had been spilled splattering the lively green leaves of the forest around them. It tainted everything. The commotion of the battle raged on, every elf so focused on the orcs that no one saw the young woman that had stumbled into their clearing bleeding, grasping her stomach as the blood flowed over her arm. Her vision was blurring, and she was quickly losing consciousness it was a wonder how she was managing to stand at all.

Prince Legolas sliced clean through an orc's neck removing it from his miserable shoulders, he stood oblivious to the young mortal woman who had wandered into his forest. As the last orc was dead he could do nothing but stand to stare at the horrible scene around him, there were just as many elves upon the ground as there were orcs. Both lie lifeless, no longer a part of this world. Legolas' heart ached for each and every elf that lay around him.

"We must bring the dead back to the halls, burn the corpses of the orc filth." He gave the command, dividing up the remaining elves to set both tasks into motion. "Keep an eye out for anyone who may yet live." Legolas gave the final command less than hopeful that any would be found, still though he had to try.

"Yes, my lord." The response came quick as every remaining soldier sprung into action, they too held little hope but they would follow Legolas faithfully. It took the rest of the day before they had taken every fallen soldier back to the halls, and had burned every orc they had slain.

A hand ran down his face as he tried to focus on anything but the number of elves he had lost. He tried not to think of how many doors he would need to knock on, how many ellith would cry out in despair when he brought the news to them.

"My Lord Legolas!" The voice of his Chief Marchwarden, Feren, called out to him as he ran his way.

"Report," Legolas ordered, straightening himself out.

"We found no elves that survived among the dead, my lord. However, east of here only meters away a young mortal woman has been found. She is gravely injured and has fallen into unconsciousness, though everyone believes she is doomed to die." Feren reported as quickly as possible waiting for his orders as to what they were supposed to do with the mortal.

"A mortal?" Legolas asked in disbelief. They had been out on patrol for over a fortnight there had been no sightings of any mortal in these woods, and to get this far into the forest wounded would have been deemed impossible unless she had already been here. Legolas growled, how could a mortal woman slip past his scouts? "Show me to her."

"Yes, my lord." Feren bowed his head, turning on his heel he led his prince to the edge of a small river.

"If she yet breathes, why deem her to be doomed to die?" Legolas asked as he followed the Marchwarden.

"Well," Feren began, pausing unsure of the best way to explain besides pure and simple superstition. "Look and you will see easily, my lord."

Legolas sighed he wasn't sure how much more death he could take today, he hoped with every ounce of his being that he could save her life.

A young ellon with flowing dark hair by the name of Meludir had propped her up against the tree where they had found her allowing himself and another ellon, Colfinner to wrap the wounds to the best of their abilities with so little supplies.

Legolas bent low beside her, his own golden hair fluttering in the breeze, brows furrowed together he placed his bow down beside him. Legolas brought a hand to her neck checking the mortals pulse, like the others, it only confused him further. All around her were the flowers of Simbelmynë as they were known to the race of men, a flower that grew only on graves, or around those who have died, yet this mortal was breathing and alive. "She has lost a great deal of blood, how was she injured? Do we know?" The prince questioned his troops, as he dropped his hand from her neck.

"No, my lord," Meludir said, standing tall as he finished knotting the cloth.

"Injures sustained?" Legolas inquired, as he brought his hand back to his side picking up his bow once more.

"Multiple stab wounds to the abdomen. Some lesions upon her face, bruising around the neck and ribs. We can not be sure what else without a proper examination." Colfinner explained, with all the blood it was hard to see.

Legolas nodded silently, plucking a single white flower from around the mortal's frame. "Alfirin," Legolas breathed out the elvish name for the bell-shaped flower, meaning immortal.

"What should we do, my lord?"

"We will bring her back to the halls, she is alive and, though as little as it might be, she still has a chance of survival." Legolas stood tall turning his back from the woman, he tried to close his eyes to rid his vision of her. He had seen many terrible things in all his life, but it always affected him more when it happened to one seemingly innocent, for she wore no armor of any sort making it clear to the prince that despite everything she had not willingly gone out to battle.

Legolas had carried the mortal woman back himself, all of his soldiers had already worked tirelessly and he decided to allow them to go off duty to rest their minds, and return to their families they had all earned it.

Lying her frail frame upon the bed he took a step back allowing the healers in to do their work. He had sent a messenger to his father, and to bring back some clothing from his own stores.

Thranduil strode into the healing ward coming to stand beside his son, his head cocked slightly to the left taking in the form of the mortal woman found in his realm. If there was one thing that Thranduil noticed, the woman before him it was nothing to do with the vast amount of blood, nor the bruises, and lesions that littered her body. It was that there upon her left hand, on her fourth finger lay a ring, a simple golden ring with a singular stone in its center. A small, sad smile lingered upon his lips. This woman was engaged, promised to marry another. Thranduil's heart went out to this woman, went out to the man who loved her, where ever he may be.

"My lord," The lead healer walked standing tall in front of her king and prince.

"What are her injuries?" The king inquired.

"They are great, my lord. By the injuries sustained she should be dead. Multiple stab wounds, two broken ribs, she clearly took a blow to the back of the head, that alone would have killed her. Not to mention the littering of minor cuts, and bruising." The healer elaborated her voice took on a saddened tone for the mortal woman.

"She was found among a bed of Alfirin," Legolas informed, "All of the troops had deemed her dead, or at least doomed to die."

"Alfirin?" Thranduil looked at his son, as the healer did in disbelief.

"Alfirin grows only on the tombs of the deceased, yet this woman lives." Hûredhiel breathed out in surprise.

Legolas nodded.

"What are her chances of survival?" The king wondered, even he could not understand how this mortal woman still breathed.

Before Hûredhiel could respond, a small almost inaudible whimper sounded from behind the trio. They spun around looking to the mortal, her eyes flickered, glancing around the room though her body did not move, she barely saw anything that her eyes scanned. Her mouth was dry, her vision still a blurry mess, nauseated she opted to lay still and stay silent.

Thranduil moved closer carefully leaning over her frail frame, "You are safe, Adaneth." He offered her a kind gentle smile, bringing a glass a water to her lips.

She returned the smile wearily, she tried to focus, to understand what was going on. But still, her body was clearly in shock.

"What is your name, Adaneth?" The king asked, nodding at her encouragingly.

She opened her mouth to speak, closing it again she swallowed roughly. "Alexandria." She breathed out after a moment.

Thranduil smiled, "You are lucky to be alive, Alexandria. Rest now, for you are safe. When you are able to move about we will speak more. I am Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm, Eryn Galen."

Her eyes fluttered closed once more sending her into darkness.

Author's Note; Please let me know what you guys think! Hope you enjoyed!

Ivy

Sindarin

Adaneth - Mortal Woman