A/N: I love hearing from my readers! Constructive criticism is wonderful. Thank you for reading!


The outskirts of Mirkwood Forest

Thranduil stayed with Radagast, helping him tend the forest after he healed physically from his wounds. He learned more about the flora and fauna than he had ever thought possible. The wizard tried daily for twenty years to convince him to return to Greenwood Palace before giving up, at last content to cede to his help. Thranduil always refused, saying his wife could never truly love him again. He took to strolling the forest, letting his grief and anger build inside of him.

Try as he might, the Elvenking could not erase his wife's memories from his mind. Every night his dreams plagued him with images of her, the way her soft curves melted against his own, the way her gentle lips felt as they caressed his. Then he heard her scream, a horrific sound of someone's heart being ripped out of her chest, yet leaving her alive. He would sit up, sweat dripping down his face and back, breathless, staring into space. Soon he gave up sleep altogether, finding it too painful, yet her cries ever echoing in his mind.

Fifty years with Radagast went by and one day Thranduil roamed further into Mirkwood than usual, despairing over the oppressive gloom that had settled there. It pressed on him as deeply as the darkness in his mind, constantly suffocating him. Then he beheld a lovely vision. His wife, his beautiful, dainty-yet-feisty Elvenqueen Arabesque, stood straight and tall several yards away, hand poised on her sword hilt as her eyes roamed back and forth.

He longed to go near her, to hold her in his arms and embrace her once more. To feel her soft, gentle lips caress his own. But the animals and Radagast were the only ones who did not mind the hideous scar that covered the left side of his face. Even though he had it hidden right now, he knew if he got upset it would show and frighten her. She could not possibly be real anyway; his mind was playing tricks on him, as usual. Despite himself, his hand reached towards her.

Stopping, she looked straight at him, then walked towards him. "Oh Thranduil, Melethnîn, I miss you. So very much. My heart is torn in twain, never to be repaired. My life is nothing without you," she lamented, and he knew she did not see him.

He struggled to hold his emotions in check, longing to hold her yet fearing her reaction when she learned of his marred complexion. This was the most real vision yet. She could not possibly love him still, yet the mournful tone in her voice…Yes, she had to be really here, standing before his. Bracing himself, he stepped out form behind the bushes that had hitherto concealed him, his love for her conquering his doubts and fears. "Arabesque, Melethnîn," he said softly, holding his hand towards her.

She gasped and held a hand to her chest. "Oh Eru, please. No games! I cannot bear it!"

He smiled and took another step towards her. "Meleth, this is no dream, unless I am having a vision as well."

"Melethnîn," she sighed, closing the gap between them. She found herself in his arms, then his lips pressed hers, hungry yet giving at the same time. After several minutes, they broke apart yet remained holding hands, gazing into each other's eyes. "Where were you, Meleth? Why did you leave me alone to raise our ion? I thought you were dead!" she accused, a mixture of hurt and relief flashing in her deep blue eyes.

"Haurog injured me, Melethnîn. Radagast helped me but could not fully heal me."

"Meleth, my poor Meleth," she crooned, tenderly brushing her right hand against the left side of his face.

He winced and grabbed her hand away. "Meleth, you need to see." He stepped back, a sad look on his face.

"Melethnîn, it is fine. Whatever happened, it is fine. I am upset that you left me alone all these years, but I will never stop loving you." She bridged the gap, only to have him step further away.

"You will take your words back when you see," he spat out bitterly and decisively. Before she could say anything else, he let his face transform. His normally bright cornflower blue left eye turned cloudy and murky. The fair skin gave way to exposed sinew, muscle, and bone, the wound looking as raw and fresh as the day he got it.

"Oh Meleth," she crooned, stepping up to him and putting her arms around him. Then she stretched on her toes and tenderly kissed the left side of his face. When she finished, she nuzzled against his strong chest. "Meleth, your scars are beautiful to me. They are visible reminders of how brave and strong you are." She looked at him, her eyes sincere.

"Melethnîn, how can you say that?"

"Because I know and love you. The you that is in here," she laid a gentle hand on his chest, his heart lightly pounding underneath it. "You are still my beautiful, precious Thranduil, inside and out."

He sighed and kissed her again, his heart finally at ease.

Thump. A giant creature landed in front of them and swaggered closer. "Ah. I see the sniveling Elven Royals are reunited at last."

Arabesque screamed and whipped out her sword, Thranduil pulling his own blade out of its scabbard as he simultaneously pushed her behind himself.

Haurog laughed and pushed his big face into that of the Elvenking. "Did she tell you she betrayed you?"

Thranduil glared and put a protective arm around his wife. "I am not listening to you lies. She would never do such a thing."

A large black talon dangled the famous jewels of Eryn Lasgalen in the Elf King's face, his mother's lovely prized possession. "It will grieve you then to learn she gave these up for her own life and that of your kingdom."

Frowning, Thranduil examined the exquisite necklace, its white gems glimmering in the sun. "Naneth would have approved, as do I. I would much rather have my wife and people than any gem."

The large indigo dragon guffawed. "Always faithful to that cheating wife of yours. Do you know how many times she has been out here alone with Lord Fairion? How often he finds little ways to touch her?"

The King turned to the Queen, hurt and betrayal reflecting in his eyes. "Well?"

"Melethnîn, it was never inappropriate. He treated me like a sister, as always. I would have come out alone, but he insisted on accompanying me. I knew you would want me to be safe, to have protection." He lovely orbs reflected the truth in her words, and her husband's face softened. He knew his wife and best friend would never betray him.

"I trust you, Meleth. Where is he now?"

"I sent him home. He twisted his ankle and I did not want him to injure it more than necessary caring for me. I was not ready to return for the day and insisted on going a little further, hoping today would be the day."

Rushing forward, the dragon separated them with his giant forefoot. "Enough. I see nothing I can say will separate you. However," he paused and sat up straight, his voice taking on a sinister edge, "since I failed to rid the world of the renowned Elvenking Thranduil, we shall have to amend matters."

"Run, Arabesque!" Thranduil yelled, simultaneously slashing at the large left foot.

Haurog laughed, took one large step, and opened his mouth. Fire consumed the Elvenqueen, roasting her alive before swallowing her whole. Only charred remains of her once-blonde hair remained where she had stood seconds beforehand.

"No!" Thranduil bellowed, stabbing at the fire-worm again. He dodged the wild tail-thrashing, avoiding being crushed by a foot as he searched for the opportunity to plunge his sword into the fell beast's chest. The minutes ticked by and at last the drake crouched down and bared his teeth, hot flames sparking forth. Seizing the moment, the Elvenking rushed forward and jabbed his blade in between the paler indigo scales on Haurog's chest. Black blood spewed forth and an unearthly shriek filled the air. Leaving his weapon buried in dragon flesh, Thranduil pulled out his second sword and jumped out of the way as the creature thrashed around in his dying breaths. He witnessed the light leave his eyes and the twitches fade away into nothing.

Face grim, the Elvenking pulled his sword out of the body and cleaned it off, then traversed to the site where he last beheld his lovely wife. He noticed the charred hair and painstakingly gather up every last piece, wrapping them in his handkerchief and placing it next to his heart. His knees buckled under him and he wept bitterly, alone in this world once more.

A rustle sounded a while later and he looked up, eyes filled with grief and glazed over. Radagast drew nearer. "King Thranduil? Are you alright?"

"No!" he snapped.

The wizard appeared unfazed, used to his short temper. "I see you caught up to the fell beast at last."

"Yes." He parted his robe, drawing out and opening the handkerchief to show him the only piece of his wife he had left, besides their only child.

"Your Majesty, I am sorry. Will you let me accompany you to the palace? They need to know."

Thranduil took a deep breath, nostrils flaring as he exhaled. "Yes. My life is ruined. Things cannot possibly get any worse." First his beauty taken, now his wife.

The disheveled old man said nothing but silently walked back with him in brooding contemplation most of the way until they neared the palace. Then they discussed how to break the news to Legolas.