Yes I know, I need to update SF. But, I have writers block... I promise it is not abandoned. It will be finished! Thanks for reading and enjoy!
-/-/-
"Thranduil!" A voice echoes across the battlefield. The fighting has been hard. My arms begin to ache at the effort of swinging my blade. A quick movement sends another servant of Sauron to its death. Blood stains everything and the screams of men and Elves reach my ears all to frequently.
My father has done something foolish. Even I understand that. All I can hope is that it does not lead to ruin. A lone figure runs across the ground towards me.
"Thranduil!" he says again. I turn to him. Fuinor. He stops in front of me.
"Thranduil, it is your father."
My mind reels. My feet take me unconsciously toward where I last saw him. I hear yelling. Someone tries to grab hold of my arm. I do not notice. I cannot notice.
My foot hits a patch of fresh blood and I slide. My hands collide with the rocky ground and I feel blood well between my fingers. I am back up in an instant but I am not fast enough.
I watch as the blade slides effortlessly through my father's body.
The scream is wrenched from my throat against my will. My feet take me across the remaining distance in what feels like an eternity. I fall to my knees by his side and Elves close around us in a tight circle holding off anything that tries to break through. I take his head in my hands, his bright silver hair is stained with dark blood. And some of his own. He looks up into my face. His icy blue eyes are surprisingly clear. I take his hand.
"Ion nin." his voice is weak, but it still commands more attention then mine ever could. "Ion nin, you must swear to me. Swear to me you will lead them. Swear to me you will not let them fade."
"Ada, you will not die. You cannot die!" I pull his hand to my chest as my vision becomes blurred.
"Thranduil." his voice is like a blade through my grief. "Thranduil. It is my time. I must go. My mistake has cost me this life. But I fear it has cost you more. I am sorry to lay this burden on you tithen pen."
"I will lead them ada, I will do my best. I promise." He looks up at me, a faint smile is on his lips. I lay my hand on his chest and I feel the last breath leave his body. And the mighty king Oropher dies. That small smile is the last one I will ever see. I wish I could have just one more minute. His hair shines as the last light fades from the sky and I close his eyes and lay his sword upon his breast, folding his hands neatly over the terrible wound. I lean down and kiss his brow, but I do not linger long. There is much I must do.
For the remainder of the battle my sword wreaks havoc on the enemy and soon I am surrounded by the bodies of orcs. Time blurs and I never seem to tire. I do not know how much time passes before it ends. But the sun still rises, and my work is far from over.
-/-/-
Thanks for reading! Drop a review on your way out.
If I got anything from The Silmarillion wrong... don't hesitate to tell me.