A/N - I have always been a major LOTR fan. I've actually been thinking on starting an OC story for Elrond or Thranduil for a few years now. It's tricky because LOTR/The Hobbit are perfection and I wanted a plot and a writing style that would be just as beautiful and magical. So this is my first shot. Enjoy.
Epigraph
"She is beyond my voice. Her soul is in the nether. It is she who will decide to stay or to be summoned to The Halls of Mandos."
Galadriel was ethereal. Glowing in her flowing white robe, blue eyes filled with sorrow. The haunting words she spoke were still fresh in the King of Mirkwood though she had long since gone.
How he despised that woman.
He sat by his dearest, beside himself in grief.
He reached out and caressed her cheek. The porcelain skin that was once such perfection as the alfirin of Lebennin was now a grey pallor. The deep blush long gone from her flesh.
"Ada," He set a warm hand on his fathers shoulder.
The elven king put his hand over the elflings, accepting the comfort.
"She is not yet dead," Legolas admonished hopefully.
"But she is dying."
Thranduil let his hand fall as his heart came undone.
The elder pulled her delicate hand to his lips, kissing the cool skin there.
It was an unbearable sight. Overcome, Legolas hesitated then retreated into the great halls.
Thranduil pulled her into his embrace, laying next to her silent form. She felt limp and weak.
Her starlight colored hair was now dulled as it cascaded over the thin gown she adorned.
Pulling her closer, he pressed his forehead against hers. There he could see the dwindling lights of their love. Brilliant and shimmering.
"Please," He whispered, his breath ghosting over her.
He could feel her slipping. Small pants of air escaped her lips as she contorted in pain.
Gazing deeply into her face as if he could will the stubborn girl to open her eyes.
His breath caught and tears broke over thick lashes. Crystalline eyes turned pools of misery.
"... I promised we would sail together."
She did not respond.
"Darkness has come over the wood... We must go." Thranduil all but begged the dying woman.
He tried to push his essence into her mind, to feel out her consciousness but she was lost and he was wary.
"I will not leave you," He whispered to her harshly, his sorrow splashed unto her face.
Hot frustrated tears soaked into her bosom as he buried his face into her nape.
He could not bear to lose another of his lovers or of his kin.
To live without her for eternity, even in the undying lands, would be as death.
She was cold, unlike the furs he had piled upon her. The fire crackled and the end smelled of cinnamon.
"Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires."
― William Shakespeare, Macbeth
A/N - What do you think?
The Halls of Mandos - The elvish version of a sort of purgatory or judgement after death.
Alfirin - A pale white flower of frailty and beauty. Known as "immortality".
Lebennin - The city of "Five waters" which is known for such a flower.