One day in the wood land forest there lived an entire company of Woodland elves. The elves were fierce, yet serene. Serene in a way that they were like stars lights. And to them all light is sacred, but Woodland elves love best the light of the stars.
Staring upon the Woodland elves carry out their work and responsibilities there stood their king, Thranduil. He was the greatest king the Woodland elves had ever lived by. He was scary, yet kind hearted and above all else, a true king to the elves. But there was one thing the king desired.
"Father," Legolas, Thranduil's son walked in the room pressing both the gigantic doors open by force. "Gandalf the White has ventured here to see you," Legolas informed looking at nothing more than his father's back draped in robes of pure white cotton and fabric like silver. Thranduil turned his head slightly, allowing his son to know he was ready.
He glanced once more across the balcony where he could see his entire kingdom prosper in peace. He lifted his right hand and waved it gracefully motioning for Legolas to leave him. His son witnessing his father's wishes bowed carefully and left closing the hard wooden doors.
Thranduil now left alone in his room was captured by a flower growing by the side of the balcony walls. He caressed it ever so slightly, yet the petals disassembled and took off with the wind. "Ohh," the king sighed grasping one of the petals. "What am I to do without you, my queen," he said finally watching the petals soar higher into the sun-setting sky as his hands held onto the balcony's edges in grief.