Prologue
(Story summary: What if love could change the fate of Middle Earth? What if even the darkest soul could find light again?
In a world scarred by betrayal and war, Ayla, a Gondorian princess, and Sauron, the Dark Lord, forge an unlikely path to redemption. Together, they work to heal the wounds left by Sauron's dark past, transforming Mordor into a place of hope and unity. But the weight of their greatest mistake—a son lost within the magic of the One Ring—threatens to undo everything they've built.
With old allies and enemies gathered, Ayla and Sauron must face their past and prove that love is stronger than fear. In this tale of second chances and new beginnings, they confront the shadows of what was to create a future no one thought possible.
The question remains: can even the darkest soul find the light, and will love be enough to save what matters most?
completed story can be found on my AO3 /works/23694013/chapters/56888491 )
Thranduil had never experienced the sensation of having his breath taken away until he laid eyes upon the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Fair skin, large turquoise eyes framed by long thick lashes, an elegant nose, full and luscious red lips. She had a heart shaped face with a softly angled jaw and a narrow chin. Her hair was a dark brown that looked almost black that hung heavy with the downpour of rain draped around her thin neck and shoulders. She was small in stature, smaller than the average elven woman, yet for all appearances of fragility she had the body of a woman that showed through her wet gown that was muddied and torn.
He focused on the woman, seeing that she was panting heavily and her beautiful, fair skin was covered in cuts and bruises. Her feet were bare, raw and dirty from obviously running on rough terrain. The sound of metal and feral howls could be heard approaching, making panic mar the woman's beautiful face as she twisted around to look behind her before a scared whimper escaped her trembling red lips. She whipped back around and began to run in Thranduil's direction, and then running past him towards the forest behind him.
Thranduil didn't chase the woman immediately as he wished to, only staying behind long enough to eradicate the wargs and their riders from entering his domain. They were easily dealt with, being no match for him. As the Prince of the Woodland Realm, Thranduil was a natural born Prime Alpha, who stood above all alphas. Turning away from the miserable, slaughtered creatures, he followed the woman in the direction she had fled with such fear in her eyes and scent.
Her scent was quickly fading in the heavy downpour of rain as he picked up traces of it through the forest. The further he ventured, the thicker and denser the trees became until none of the raindrops could penetrate through the thick canopy of leaves. With the rain no longer washing away her trail, Thranduil was able to pick it up once more and follow it. He scent was a torrent mixture of many emotions with fresh and old blood, making his nose twitch from the unpleasant spicy tingle it left. The scent was getting stronger as he continued to track the woman; finally catching up to her where she lay curled up in the hollow base of a dead tree.
He walked up to the hollow and crouched down to look inside at her, seeing her in a curled up position, and she was shivering and looked ill. The last thing he needed was to introduce an unknown sickness into his kingdom, but her ill appearance looked more from fatigue and malnourishment. Then there was the spicy scent of fear that clung to her like a thick coat of armor.
"It is safe now." he said gently, the sound of his voice startling the woman as her turquoise eyes opened up and looked at him, the fear showing through them. "I have killed your pursuers." he held out his gloved hand to her, only to have her recoil away from him. "I will not hurt you, you have my word."
She looked at his offered hand in obvious consideration before finally tilting forward and crawling towards the mouth of the hollowed trunk, cautiously taking his offered hand as she stood up. She was much smaller than he had anticipated, her full height coming to only his collarbone. He looked down at her, seeing the dark circles under striking vibrant eyes, the dry cracked skin of her red lips show signs that she had been biting them out of anxiety. She was filthy, her dress beyond repair and she was soaked through from the rain, making her visibly shiver. Yet despite the grime and dried blood she was still breathtakingly beautiful.
He had the sudden urge to bite her but he resisted the surprising feeling as he removed his cape and wrapped it securely around her petite frame. He heard her take in a shaky breath, her large turquoise eyes still looking up at him with caution. He wanted her to trust him. He wanted to protect her.
"I won't hurt you, you have my word." he said, keeping his voice low and soft. She lowered her eyes, breaking the contact as she nodded her head. No, he thought, she should never look away from him. "What is your name?"
She raised her eyes back up, the simple action quelling the inner beast within him that was beginning to stir. He watched as she parted her cracked lips, to move them to form words but nothing but a strained rasp escaped. She closed her mouth and her eyes once more fell, the look of despair settling in as it was clear to them both that she was unable to speak. Thranduil touched her cheek lightly, making her flinch as he lifted her face back up.
"It is not important right now. You are clearly injured and have not had a proper rest. I will take you to my Realm where you will be looked after." he said, remembering that she was not wearing shoes and without asking he scooped her small frame into his arms. She gave little resistance but quickly gave up, what little strength she had was depleted. With her in his arms and so close his nose he was overwhelmed by the pungent odor of sweat and blood, though beneath it he picked up a hint of something sweet but the other smells were too overpowering.
Regardless, he carried her the entire way home, giving this mysterious woman a reprieve from continuing on her battered feet. Just minutes after he began to carry her she had drifted off to sleep, her head resting against his armored shoulder. His inner beast purred in approval, instinctively knowing that he was carrying an omega in his arms, a Prime Omega, and was eager to make her submit to him. However, he didn't know who she was, nor where she came from, and there was also the matter of who she was running from. All his burning questions will be answered in time, he knew that, yet he felt so impatient and on edge since the moment he laid eyes on her. The alpha in him vibrating, wanting to come out and claim this omega.
Upon returning home he had ordered his servants to take the woman and clean and tend to her wounds. He had once more been surprised by his feeling of reluctance to have her taken away from him but quickly quashed those feelings as he went to his father, knowing that the Elvenking was going to be displeased. Not only did he disobey his father's orders of wandering outside the borders of their Realm but he had also brought with him a stranger. His thoughts wandered to the woman he carried home, eager to hear an update about her and already making up his mind to go see her once he was done with his scolding. His father had always been strict and wary about outsiders, having taken his people long ago to settle in Greenwood.
Yet Thranduil could care less about what his father had to say about his reckless behavior. It was clear that bringing home a strange woman was not the wisest thing he had done, but in his defense he could not have left her out in the cold, not when she had such a strange pull on him. He recalled the way she had looked, injured and dirty and frail. She would have easily succumbed to the elements or worse; killed by some beast in the wild. He was sure that those warg riders would have easily caught up to her had he not intervened. It was luck that he had been patrolling his borders at that time; otherwise she would have surely been killed.
But why were they chasing her?
Who is she?
xxxxx
Kwenthrith entered the chambers of her Lord's guest, having been personally appointed to look after his guest and tend to her every need. He had mentioned that his guest was unable to speak, possibly due to weakness and had many injuries that risked infection. It was Kwenthrith's duty to make sure that her Lord's guest regains her full health back. She quietly walked towards the bed where a healer was applying salve to the woman's injured feet where the cuts were red and inflamed with signs of infection. Kwenthrith examined the woman, immediately picking up the mild scent of something sweet, hinting to the elven beta that this woman is an omega.
She next observed that the woman is a human and looked young. She looked rather child-like, sleeping soundly in the bed with her long dark hair splayed out on the pillow in loose curls. All of her cuts had been cleaned and treated, the filth had been washed away in the bath that had been provided and then changed into a nightgown by the servants. Kwenthrith did not disturb the healer, letting them continue their treatment until they were done. Per Thranduil's orders, Kwenthrith sat by the woman's bedside, waiting for her to wake.
When the woman did stir it was late in the evening as the moon was nearing its zenith. The omega was suffering from a fever brought on from exhaustion and infection from her wounds. Kwenthrith had prepared ahead, lighting a few candles and readying a pitcher of water. She snapped her fingers at one of the attending servants who quickly left to fetch broth for their guest. Kwenthrith watched patiently as the young woman breathed in deeply and slowly let out a tired exhale, her eyes slowly opening, blinking a few times to adjust to the soft light of the candles. The elf maiden was taken aback by how beautiful and bright the human's eyes were; their vibrant color showing so clearly like shining gems.
The human woman had taken a sharp intake of breath, clearly surprised by Kwenthrith's presence and obvious change of scenery as she tried to put distance between them. The omega let out a sharp hiss of pain, clearly jostling and reopening some of her many cuts.
"Do not be afraid." Kwenthrith spoke, keeping her voice soft and gentle to soothe the other woman. "My name is Kwenthrith, Lord Thranduil has appointed me as your caretaker." She turned slightly to pour water into an ivory cup and held it out to the frightened woman. "It is safe, this is just water." she said, taking a sip and swallowing to show her that it was not poisoned. She watched with patience as the woman slowly scooted closer towards the edge of the bed and hesitantly reached out to take the goblet of water.
The young woman took a careful sip while eyeing Kwenthrith with suspicion. The elf maiden was amused when the omega emptied the goblet in a few greedy gulps.
"Do you want more?" Kwenthrith asked, seeing the conflict in the turquoise eyes before she shyly nodded her head. Kwenthrith took the goblet from her and refilled it with more water and then handed it back. She refilled the goblet three more times and as the young woman was finishing her fourth helping the servant returned with a tray that carried the broth. "You must be hungry; Lord Thranduil had the kitchen prepare broth for you, as it would be easiest on your stomach until you are well again."
Kwenthrith saw that the prospect of food had grabbed the omega's attention; however she noticed the beginnings of sleep taking over. "I know you are tired, but have a bit of broth before you rest some more."
The omega nodded slowly as Kwenthrith took the bowl and spoon into her hands, using a cloth as a barrier from burning herself as she carefully scooped up some of the broth and blew on it gently to cool it down. She brought it to the omega's dry lips and watched as the omega carefully slurped up the golden broth. Kwenthrith fed her a few spoonful before it was clear to the elf maiden that her charge was already drifting. With gentle hands, Kwenthrith laid the omega back down and tucked her in.
She had ordered the servant to take the bowl back to the kitchen and to refill the pitcher with more water. Kwenthrith returned to her chair beside the bed, maintaining her vigil duty for the rest of the night and well into the first rays of morning. The omega was in and out of sleep for nearly a week, her fever breaking on the second day. Her infected wounds were healing, being tended to by the healer daily.
Thranduil then came at the end of the week, having lost patience in waiting for his guest to awake. He had gotten the scolding he was expecting from his father, Oropher, being told once more that he acted recklessly and allowed himself to act on impulse instead of thinking about the welfare of their people. Thranduil understood the possible repercussions but he couldn't ignore the omega, neither could he ignore the warg scouts. Then there was the fact that he felt an overwhelming urge to protect the omega that he could not make sense of. He had stayed away while she was ill, knowing he could do nothing to heal her. Now he was finally able to have a good look at her, seeing that he was right to have thought her beautiful before and now she looked younger, more angelic. She was currently sleeping on her side facing him, looking still a bit too sickly for his liking though worlds better compared to when he first saw her. Then there was her scent, so fresh and sweet that it gave him quite the heady rush and made his blood heat up within his veins. But there was some underlying smell, something that made him think of evil that did not fit the image before him.
Kwenthrith had informed him that she did wake up several times, but only long enough to drink water and a bit of food before going back to sleep. Her exhaustion and illness had been understandable; Thranduil had no clue as to how long the omega had been on the run. At least for now she would not have to worry and can rest easy that her days of running are now over.
He reached out and gently caressed her cheek with the back of his knuckles; coaxing a small little noise from her while she slept. Thranduil wondered what her voice sounded like when she spoke, his thoughts quickly turning to wonder what sort of noises she would make while writhing with pleasure beneath him. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to force such lustful thoughts from his head. This past week he had trouble sleeping, his thoughts consumed by this omega he rescued. What little sleep he did get, his dreams were filled with lewd images that were surely unbecoming of a future ruler such as himself, regardless of how enticing her smell was.
He opened his eyes when the omega shifted her position in bed, rolling onto her other side beneath the covers. Her long dark hair was gathered up on the pillow, giving him a view of her slender neck and the creamy skin. He saw, with great disappointment, the claim mark on her neck, identifying her as a bonded omega. It made sense now why there had been an underlying scent that was not hers. Just seeing the proof of her mark made the alpha in him seethe with anger and jealousy, but then he thought back to their first encounter and wondered if her mate was possibly dead. That thought gave him hope. If her mate was dead then Thranduil can change her mark, be rid of the stench of her dead mate and infuse his scent with hers.
It was such an attractive fantasy.
It was possible that she is a runaway omega, escaping her mate. Escaping an unwanted bond. That seemed to make more sense in regards to the warg scouts that had been chasing her. They could have been hired to track her down and be brought back. But they were dead now. But her mate could still be alive.
What was he to do if her mate truly was alive? Bonding with her while her mate was still alive can potentially kill her. An omega can never have more than one mate, unless they are mated to their Fated Pair. Their soulmate.
He wanted to be her Fated Pair.
Another attractive fantasy.
It was an hour past dawn and the omega finally stirred awake, stretching and letting out a soft yawn before pausing. She sat up quickly, her dark hair falling around her shoulders like a thick curtain as she looked around at her unfamiliar surroundings, obviously still disoriented despite it being a week. When her turquoise eyes spotted Thranduil, sitting calmly in the chair beside her bed, she let out a startled rasp. Fear lacing her sweet, heady scent but it wasn't as sharp as it had been when he first met her. She seemed to recognize him at the very least.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked, remembering to keep his tone low and calm. He was fighting the urge to pounce and claim her as his. Her scent made his inner beast clawing at its cage to be released.
Her current bond be damned!
She nodded her head, shyly pulling the comforter up to hug against her chest. Thranduil could only assume that it was a human habit in an attempt at modesty when he found it to be unnecessary. He didn't want her to cover herself up and hide in front of him.
"Can you speak now?" he asked. He so desperately wanted to hear her voice.
She parted her lips, attempting to speak but only a raspy noise came out. She cleared her throat and tried again, but the result was the same and her face fell.
"Do not worry, you are still recovering. I am sure once you have regained your strength then we will be able to talk to each other." Thranduil said, hiding his own disappointment. "Would that be all right with you?"
She gave him another shy nod of her head.
"In the meantime, I will tell you my name, I am Thranduil, Prince of the Woodland Realm. You are my guest and have permission to stay for however long you wish. I will see to it personally that you are well looked after."
The omega looked at him with an unreadable expression before a soft, grateful smile pulled at her dry lips. Her beauty had magnified with such a small gesture and it pulled at Thranduil's heart to see such a thing, as if he was unworthy of being on the receiving end. His desire to devour her pretty mouth intensified and it took much effort to keep his exterior calm.
"I wish I knew your name." catching too late that he had spoken his very wish aloud.
She surprised him when she moved closer to the edge of the bed and reached out and took his hand. He allowed it, shifting closer and secretly inhaling her scent deeper as she turned his hand over with the palm up. She traced her finger over his palm; her touch was gentle as she traced letters. She was using the common tongue to write, spelling out her name for him. She had to repeat it before Thranduil understood, having been lost by the tickling, teasing touch on his palm. How he wanted more than this.
"Ayla?" he asked, looking at her. She looked back at him, her cheeks flushing a light pink as she nodded her head shyly before releasing his hand. He instantly missed her touch, wanting more physical contact. "Ayla. It suits you."
Now he knew her name, feeding into his newfound hunger to learn more about this beautiful omega that spurned his inner alpha with desire.