Requested by Anon.
Prompt: Imagine having a fight with Thranduil and he insults you with something that hurts you so deeply you storm off. He soon realizes and runs after you
You felt choked. But then again, you were used to the feeling. Growing up in an underground civilisation was going to do that to a person, but after marrying Thranduil, the sensation only grew stronger.
And now, it was almost unbearable.
You knew that Thranduil would be protective of you, given both your histories, but this was getting ridiculous. You stood before him in your shared room, arms folded and not impressed in the slightest.
"Are you really forbidding me, your wife, from leaving the doing what she wants?" You responded, to the revelation that he'd presented with you. Thranduil turned towards you, and looked both angry and concerned.
"Yes, but only because I want her to be safe." He said coolly, the words flowing as if he'd prepared for this conversation.
"You won't always be there to protect me, Thranduil." You huff. "Besides, I can defend myself; you know that I can. All you have to do is trust me."
"I do trust you," He responds, his voice raising in volume slightly; you knew that this was going to flare out into a full argument, and that it was going to happen whether you liked it or not.
"Well let me do what needs to be done." You shot back, beginning to shout yourself. You wanted to be able to defend your home from the spiders that had begun to poison the woods, but Thranduil was constantly ordering you to remain inside, safe - but away from what you felt was the right thing to do. "Let me defend those that I must look after."
Thranduil scoffed and you knew that he was losing his temper at your constant defiance. But you weren't really prepared for what was going to be said next.
"Well, at least I try to take care of my loved ones." He hissed, and you froze, horrible memories flooding back to you. "A quality that you seem to lack."
You didn't reply, knowing that he was right. He was always right, a voice in your head pointed out. All the fight in you left, and you couldn't bring yourself to say anything. You were hurting, deeply.
He gazed at you for a moment, realising that he'd hurt you with his words. Thranduil knew what had happened to your family when you were both Elflings - it was a touchy subject that you both tried to avoid. "Mela, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" He began, trying to make things right. But you just turned and walked from the room.
You needed space to think about what had happened, but that also meant thinking about the days your family were killed.
You were only young, barely 70 years old, when you and your family were wandering through the Greenwoods. But, then the Orc pack sprung out of nowhere and caught you all off guard. They all knew that you couldn't fight as well as they could, and your father and sister fell trying to defend you.
Years later, after you had watched your mother fade in grief, and reluctantly let your elder sister sail into the West, the spiders arrived. Your brother was one of the fallen from their first attack.
You beat yourself up everyday, replaying their last moments in your head. Thranduil was right when he said that you couldn't take care of anyone. Everyone you loved had been killed, and you couldn't do anything to stop them.
After marrying Thranduil, you'd thought that you'd be able to move on from your mistakes; apparently that wasn't going to happen.
You sat there, in the hidden garden within the halls, you cursed yourself for thinking that someone like you was ever going to get a happy ending.
Thranduil, however, was racked with more guilt that he never realised he could feel. He watched your retreating back, and saw just how much he'd offended you, and how much wrong-doing he'd caused, just with those few words.
Without thinking twice, he ran after you. You'd had a great head start, and within moments, he'd lost you. He knew that you'd still be there, somewhere, he just had to find you. He had to.
Thranduil searched for hours, looking in every place he could. He was going to get some of the guards to help, when he saw you, sitting in a garden that he hadn't noticed before. As he walked over towards you, he could hear your deep breaths; you'd fallen asleep out there.
Walking quietly, as not to disturb you, he made his way through the garden, to sit next to you. He sat there for a moment, unsure of what to do, while watching you. He always felt glad that you looked at peace while you slept. As if you weren't plagued by the guilt you so desperately tried to hid on a daily basis.
Thranduil sat there for a minute or two, before a cold breeze flowed through the garden. Still asleep, you shivered; Thranduil took off his robe and wound it around your sleeping shoulders. He seemed almost at a loss, with the guilt eating him inside.
After a while, you woke up. Firstly, you thought that the argument had been a horrible dream, but when you felt the cold wind blow through the garden, and noticed that you were still outside, you sighed sitting up. Then, you noticed that you were wrapped in Thranduil's large robe, and that he was sitting next to you.
As you looked at Thranduil, you noticed how he let his guilt flood his features. The silence between you for a moment, neither of you daring to speak, when you moved forward to hug your husband. Before he could say anything, you spoke.
"Melamin, I know you did not mean anything that you may have said." You whispered, afraid that if you spoke louder, you would break down again. And this time, you were determined to stay strong.
Thranduil went to reply, but you were not finished. "What happened, has happened; we should not dwell in the past, at least not on our mistakes."
"Thank you, melamin." He replied, and you hugged him a little tighter. He hugged back. "I know that I do not deserve your forgiveness-"
"Stop, Thranduil." You interrupted. "You do deserve it, because we all learn from mistakes. Even we must. We all need to begin learning from mistakes."
You both stayed outside in one another's arms for a while longer, before you both went back in, to get some rest.