Inspired by: Winter Song- Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson
A lone figure stood against the coming storm, his fine robes billowing wildly in the harsh cold wind. From where he stood he could easily see the heavy rains coming across the forest, beating down in a wall of water upon the swirling treetops. It was likely that in a short time he would be caught in the merciless downpour.
But he didn't care and remained tall where he was, like a statue made of stone. The restless, screaming world around him was a reflection of his soul and the world seemed to grow darker the more the statue delved into his thoughts.
King Thranduil, the elven ruler of the Great Greenwood, was not typically one to spend an unnecessary amount of time exploring the deepest recesses of his mind. His duties and responsibility to his kingdom were convenient excuses to avoid such things. But today there was no escape.
This day marked the three hundredth year since his daughter's disappearance, and not a trace had been found in that time. Without her, nothing was right. He had sworn to keep her safe, promised his wife that no harm would come to their children.
He had failed.
Heart crying out with anguish, Thranduil felt moisture gather in his hard eyes. 'I failed you all, my beloved wife. I have lost you. I have lost our daughter. My people's blood stains the fields before the mountain of Erebor, due to my lack of diligence. And now I have lost another person whom I love dearly! Our youngest son has left the Greenwood...Mirkwood. And our other son is patrolling the most dangerous boarder of the forest. I know not when they will return to me, or if they will return alive and well.'
Anger rose in his chest as he wrestled with the pain and grief. Wind and rain tore at him, pounding into his clothes and soaking him through. Lightening flashed, sending brilliant colours across the sky as it reflected off the ice pellets in the clouds.
Together, elf and nature raged fiercely against the world. The shrieking winds and rumbling gave voice to what the stoic king would not utter.
Memories railed against his mind, drowning him with guilt and dragging him into darkness. Cold, joyless and unfeeling, save the hard anger. This was the darkness in his heart. A safe place where nothing could cause him pain.
How familiar this place was. It was now his constant companion, ever since his wife's death. Only his children seemed to be able to bring light to his heart. But even now could they could not reach him, for they were all far away and in untold dangers, possibly never to return.
He stood at the edge of a precipice, separated from everything he held dear. Like a strong mountain of ice upon which nothing could grow, Thranduil waited, unable to shatter and live again.
Just then, as a crash of thunder and strong gust of wind rocked the trees, an unexpected memory flashed before his eyes.
His wife, the beautiful, laughing Cellissel, danced merrily in his mind. Her voice reached him, the memory climbing free from the depths of the ice and stone.
"You always act so cool and aloof, Thranduil. Really, one would think you didn't care about anyone at all!" she had said seriously one day after they had properly become friends.
"I have no idea what you are talking about." had been his slightly annoyed reply. Cellissel, undaunted, had just smiled and responded.
"Yes, you do. I know that you hide beneath that cold exterior because you think you care too much about people and your fear the pain that caring brings. But, Thranduil, if you are not careful, you will freeze your heart...and love will fade. How tragic it would be if there was no love in you. Keep that love alive. Please?"
Bowing his head in remorse, he heaved a heavy sigh. Cellissel would be so grieved to see him in such a state, and to know what kind of person he had allowed himself to become over the years. He had buried the hurt and pain over losing her so deeply to stop from fading, and in the process, he had also buried his ability to love and care deeply. The love now flickered in his soul and grew as he moved reluctantly towards the warmth.
It had been so long since he had come here. Never before daring to approach this place in his soul, fearing what might happen, fearing the emptiness. But now that he was here, he found life.
Shaking with emotion, he embraced that ember and cried out with his whole being to the cloudy heavens. He felt alive within, blinded by the light that grew with the love he held in his heart. Love for Cellissel, his children, his people, and most importantly, he found their love for him. It had always been waiting there, he realized suddenly. He had just been too blinded by grief, fear and pride to see it.
Peace flooded him. Hope sparked and became a hesitate flame.
Opening his heart, he called to his children, willing his son's to return to him alive. Then his thoughts turned to his daughter. Not knowing where she was, but begging that she still be alive, he called, "Fly back to me, Aewinith, my little fledgling. Come home to my arms, I will not give up hope, nor will I stop looking for you."
Then he turned and walk away from the raging storm, back towards his stronghold. The ember beneath the snows of his soul, it was to be protected with great vigilance, or it would die once more. It had taken so long to find it again, and the elf-king wasn't about to lose it once more. It was all he had left.