Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.

The image for this story was originally uploaded on zerochan by Lucrete, and downloaded by me off Pinterest.

So, I did what I told myself I would never do and wrote a Lord of the Ring's fanfiction. I don't know how good my efforts are, but though I'd post the first couple of chapters to gage a response. I have no less than thirteen written in various states of completion, but we'll see how things go.

This is mainly based on the movie-verse, though the timeline differs. However, it is an AU, and has more non-canon elements than Legolas being the adopted son of Thranduil.

The premise of an adopted Legolas comes from the story 'Small Blessings' written by nazgularepeopletoo over on AO3, and the original idea is credited to tumblr. However, that is the only thing that I have borrowed from that story. My story is not meant to reflect theirs in anyway, and is quite different.

This is completely un-betaed so any mistakes I take full responsibility for. This is purely self-indulgent fluffy-angst, and proves once and for all that I can't write pure fluff to save my life.

Chapter 1: Heartbreak-part 1

Thranduil's heart was breaking, and nothing could console him. In that moment, he did not truly care if he lived or died. After all, those he cared about more than anything else in the world were dead.

His beloved wife and their unborn son were dead.

Slaughtered by orcs.

In front of him on what was supposed to be a pleasant ride in the forest.

He had not been able to save them.

He had failed as a husband and a father, the latter before he'd even officially become one.

Thranduil felt numb.

His wife was dead.

Their son was dead.

Gone. Forever.

A single tear ran down the normally stern and stubborn Elvenking's cheek, but the heartbroken elf made no move to wipe it away. He did not have the strength to even raise a hand right now. Indeed, it seemed that the normally proud and confident king had already started fading, sitting in a dark room by himself and refusing all company.

"My Lord?"

Thranduil winced as someone knocked gently on the closed doors of his study, jolting him out of his downward spire for a brief moment. He did not want to face anyone right now, not when he'd just lost the love of his life less than three hours ago. When the healers had pronounced Tathardis and her unborn son as having passed beyond their help, Thranduil had screamed in grief and fled from the room. He could not fully accept that they were gone, and still felt like he was in a bad dream, floating along on a cloud of pain and anguish. All he wanted was to be left alone to fade away in peace.

But Lagoron, his faithful friend and seneschal who'd known him since they were both small elflings, was nothing if not stubborn.

Another knock sounded, more determined than the last.

"My King? Thranduil? I know you are in there. Don't you dare ignore me, mellon-nin." (my friend)

Lagoron's voice faded into the distance as Thranduil lost focus on the world again. He was distantly aware of soft voices but couldn't focus on what they were saying, and jumped and shied away when a gentle hand landed on his shoulder. Looking up, wincing in the harsh light from the lamp that had been lit, the Woodland King's pained silver-blue eyes met a very concerned pair of sky blue ones.

"Thranduil, please don't do this. You are needed too much by too many people; we cannot lose you to grief right now."

Lagoron was the only elf, apart from his late wife, who would dare to approach the Elvenking when he was in such a state and tell him what he was doing was wrong. Thranduil had long since stopped arguing with his seneschal regarding his own well-being, as he always seemed to invariably lose to the determined Sindar.

This time it was different.

"I've just lost my wife and son and you are telling me I'm not allowed to grieve for them?"

It was a testament to how far Thranduil had fallen in a few short hours in that his words came out as a faint whisper that someone without an elf's enhanced hearing might not have been able to hear.

Lagoron did not miss a beat.

"You need to grieve, I'm not telling you not to, but this is not the right way to go about it. If you continue down this path, you will fade completely within the next few days, and then what will we do? The people have just lost their queen and unborn prince, to lose their king as well would shatter them. They need you as their king and leader Thranduil. Especially right now."

The king's shoulders were slumped and his eyes had hardly any light in them when he answered.

"I don't think that I have the strength or skill to lead them anymore Lagoron. I failed to protect my queen and son. How am I supposed to protect a whole realm of people if I cannot look after the two most important people in my life?"

"Tathardis and your son's deaths were not your fault. You fought with everything you had, we all did, but we were outnumbered. The orcs planned this ambush down to the littlest detail, there was nothing any of us could have done to stop it. It is not your fault Thranduil, Tathardis's death is not your fault. It is none of our faults; she was taken by the growing darkness that is starting to spread across the land. Do not blame yourself for today's deaths and use that as an excuse to fade, Thranduil."

"I am already fading Lagoron. I can feel it. My spirit is all but spent."

Lagoron looked very alarmed.

"You can't do this Thranduil! You can't fade now!"

But the king was, that much was very obvious to Lagoron. He was still holding onto life, but only by a thin thread that could break at any moment. For the first time in many centuries, Lagoron did not know what to do, and panicked as he shook his friends arm, which was not as solid as it should be.

"Thranduil, come back! You are needed! Your people, your wife's people, they need you Thranduil. Tell me, what would Tathardis have wanted you to do? To stay strong and lead her people, or to fade from grief within a couple of hours of her passing? Do not dishonour her memory by fading from grief. Please Thranduil, come back to us."

The Elvenking had stopped listening to his friend's words some time back, when one sentence suddenly hit him.

"Do not dishonour her memory by fading from grief."

He would never dishonour the memory of the love of his life. Who did Lagoron think he was, to speak like that to his king? Thranduil felt a small flash of anger at the suggestion that he would dishonour his beloved queen. He would never…

Thranduil suddenly gasped and doubled over in physical pain as the realisation that was exactly what he was currently doing washed over him. By allowing himself to fade from grief, he would leave his people, his beloved wife's people, without a king or queen. Memories of the vow he'd made the night he married Tathardis flashed through the king's head. He'd promised to love and lead her people as if they were his own. Many of the older Sindar elves at the time had looked down on and belittled the fact that their crown prince had married a weak Silvan elf and made her his queen, but Thranduil had seen a strength of character and determination in her and her race that put many of his own people to shame.

That put him to shame. Yes, he had just lost his wife, but the people had lost their beloved queen, and her parents had just lost their beloved daughter. Her older brother had just lost his little sister. It was with that thought that Thranduil was able to pull himself out of his grief enough to realise a startling thing.

He was not alone in his grief, and would not be alone in his grief. The whole kingdom would grieve, and fall apart if someone did not step in and take charge. Someone had to keep the peace, and as king that was his job. It was what Tathardis would have wanted, she would not have wanted him to fade from grief.

Thranduil stood up suddenly with a gasp and almost fell flat on his face, he felt strong hands grab him and gently lower him to the ground as he lent forward and started sobbing into soft fabric. He couldn't help it. All the emotions he'd been suppressing suddenly rushed to the forefront of his mind and he felt like he was drowning. He knew what he must do, but Thranduil was terrified that he wouldn't be able to do it. No matter how much he fought it, he was afraid he would still eventually fade from grief, it would just be a slower process.

Thranduil took a deep shuddering breath and opened his eyes. When had he closed them? He could not remember. The strong hands were still resting on his shoulders, and looking up Thranduil saw Lagoron's concerned expression. The seneschal was kneeling on the floor of the study; he had apparently been holding Thranduil all through the latter's little breakdown. Seeing that he now had the king's attention, Thranduil's close friend spoke.

"I think you need some air mellon-nin. Come, let us go for a walk, out in the forest. We won't go far, just far enough to give us some space. Come."

Thranduil allowed his lifelong friend to help him to his feet and lead him to the door. Lagoron's words had been enough to keep him from fading this time, but Thranduil couldn't shake the fear that it was not permanent.

He feared fading more than he feared death itself. And, in spite of Lagoron's words, Thranduil knew that keeping his vow to his wife would not be enough to prevent his eventual demise.

He would fade, the only question was how long it would take.

Lagoron – swift/rapid: A Sindar warrior who Thranduil has known his whole life. They are like brothers.

Tathardis – Willow: Was the queen of the woodland realm, a full-blooded Silvan elf and wife to Thranduil.

All names and their translations came from elfnamegeneratorfun.

So, there it is. Thoughts on chapter 1? Heartbreak-part 2 will be up soon!