Before I saw the Hobbit, Arya and I were discussing how the scene would go when Thranduil was finally informed that his son was gone. Originally, because I couldn't know where Tauriel and Legolas were going, I fell back on using Dol Guldur, but since seeing the movie, I have changed the place to Lake Town. :)
I think I'm going to have to make a compilation thing and just put all my Thranduil stories into it because... ahh so many Thranduil stories.
"Aran nin" a timid whisper, at the base of his throne. He sighs heavily and turns his head to look down at one of his messengers.
"Yes?" He asks, with more anger than he means. The elf swallows heavily and bows their head.
"The prince is gone, my king. A patrol saw him and Tauriel heading towards Lake Town…" Thranduil's heart breaks and his mask crumbles all at once. The air is torn from his lungs and his eyes burn.
"N-no." he whispers, struggling to keep control of himself. "And the… the patrol? They did not try to stop them?" he asks, his fingers shaking as he pushes against the throne in order to stand up. He leans against the armrest to keep himself steady as his legs tremble.
"No, my king. Prince Legolas ordered them home, he said it was by your order." Thranduil stumbles slightly as he descends the stairs, the other elf does not comment or move to help.
"Out! Get out! All of you! Out! Now! And send Thorontur and his patrol after them. I want them brought back here now. Knock them out if you have to! But they must be brought home alive!" he does not hear the shuffling feet or the tiny voice acknowledging his orders. All he can hear is the sound of his heart breaking in his ears, and the sound of his heavy breathing.
He takes a step but his leg buckles and he falls to his knees, he does not get up. He buries his head in his shaking hands, and feels his fingers brush against his crown. He growls and tears the crown from his head, it tugs out a few strands of hair with it, but he does not care. "You did this!" He whispers, his voice wobbling with tears. "You did this! You did all of this!" he cries, throwing the crown across the room, it hits a wall and falls apart. "You did this!" he screams. "You took my father. You took my wife. You are taking my son!" he sobs, burying his head in his hands again. "Legolas. Tithen Las. My Greenleaf. Please come home. I can't lose you. Oh Valar, please." But when did anyone say the Valar ever heard the line of Oropher?
The elves of Rivendell were perfect, as beautiful as the sun. The elves of Lorien were timeless, as happy as the birds in the trees. Those elves were made of Mithril, shining and valuable. Unbreakable. But no one ever dreamt of Mirkwood when they dreamt of elves. For the Mirkwood elves were made of stone and even stone breaks.
I have a complex headcanon for how Thranduil rages and despairs, so some of you might disagree with what I've written above, and you're entirely welcome to do so, however, my opinion will not be changed.