Author's Note:
You may have missed two updates before this.
Thranduil
"Mother?" Thranduil called softly into the dark room. He heard no answer but his senses told him she was awake. After a moment's hesitation, he stepped inside and threw open the curtains. He lit the lanterns around the room and opened the door and the windows to let in the fresh air.
Once the gloomy surroundings shifted to light and carefree, he turned his attention to the occupant in the bed. His mother barely moved. Instead, she stared unseeingly into space, her hands folded neatly on her lap. She remained that way for the past two weeks, stirring only to eat and to bathe. She refused to change, refused to move Oropher's things anywhere and refused to even speak to her own son.
Thranduil sat down on the edge of the bed.
"What are you doing, mother?" Thranduil asked softly. He tenderly brushed one hand over hers. She did not even acknowledge her presence. "You know, father asked me to look after you." Her lips twitched ever so slightly. "He worried for you. I suspect somewhere in his mind, he knew he was going to die." Her breathing grew more broken. "I cannot begin to understand the grief you have on father's passing but it is not good to waste away in anyone's memory." He paused. "Father wouldn't have wanted it."
Her eyes filled with bushes tears even as she stared ahead. Her lips were tightly pursed. Emotion. At last. Thranduil patted her hand one last time and dropped a kiss on her forehead before leaving her to privacy.
The first tears were hardest to shed. The rest only brought healing.
Author's Note:
There is a lack of discussion of female characters that are left behind, or the ones who are mentioned but were not given much detail in Tolkien's world. So I am enjoying some creativity here. I might explore such relationships again.
