The Angst Hurts - Tumblr Posts

Forbidden Cells

Pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Description: Years prior Thranduil had been torn away from you after your relationship had been discovered. Under the impression you had left Mirkwood he never expected to find you in one of Mirkwood’s cells when he became king.

Warnings: None? Thranduil’s father being an ass.

Word count: 1482

Thranduil stood in front of the large mirror in his new room, gazing at the reflection of the crown that now sat atop his head.

Whenever he had imagined becoming king it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t because his father was mauled to death in an ambush by giant spiders, orc, wargs and whatever other creatures had a grudge against him. It wasn’t because his mother went mad with grief afterward and passed away before his ceremony could be held. But most of all, it wasn’t without you by his side.

When his father had torn you away from each other, his mother stood idly by, giving him that look, the one that said ‘your father is right, listen to him’, after a moment of carelessness, he’d never felt so betrayed or heartbroken. Or so he thought.

When his father had come to his room later and told him that you had agreed to leave Mirkwood and never return for the good of the elves all those emotions only became stronger.

Thranduil never questioned his father’s words. You’d expressed your doubts about your lowly status as an elleth before, how surely a high ranking elf or even a princess from one of the other elf communities would be better suited to marry him, become queen when he became king, but he brushed it off every time. If you thought it was for the good of him and the rest of Mirkwood to leave, you would.

And so Thranduil learned to shut his emotions off, to be the coldhearted prince everyone, including his parents, expected him to be. He did what he was told, he stayed away from the cells in the lower levels after his parents forbade him from going there, claiming that some of the criminals would like nothing more than to see him dead.

He became a shell of who he used to be.

Thranduil glanced around what used to be his parents room before silently slipping out the door. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep and had no intention of lying there, brooding over memories of the past.

Hearing the sounds of celebration from above - no doubt drunken elves using his new title as a reason to party - Thranduil silently made his way towards the lower levels.

His parents had told him to stay away from them, but that was when he was a prince. He was a king now, someone who people trusted to keep them safe, and he couldn’t do that if he didn’t even know who was in his own cells.

Descending the steps he noticed that there were no guards, as they were most likely joining in on the festivals having already served the prisoners their supper.

Surprisingly, the cells were mostly empty bar a drunk dwarf who must have been caught sneaking into the party and brought to the cell until he was sober enough to find his way home without causing trouble. The only other cell occupied seemed to be the one furthest from the door. With the bars facing into the path all he could make out was low breathing and the shuffle of fabric against dirt as the occupant moved back into a corner hearing him approach.

Thranduil came to a stop in front of the cell, seeing the woman - elf or human? - who was huddled in a corner.

Her hair was long and tangled as shielded her face from his view. The skin he could see was dirty and discoloured by grime. Her dress was torn and…

Thranduil did a double take, the young king freezing in place. Despite the rips and dirt, he’d remember that dress anywhere. Of course he would. He’d had that dress custom made. 

That dress was the reason you weren't currently beside him as queen. After all, if he hadn’t given you the dress and told you to wear it to the moonlight dance being held that night then he would never have fallen in love with you all over again when he saw you in it.

He never would have risked kissing you, calling you meleth in a place where someone could walk around the corner and see you together.

You never would have left. But now… “Y/N?”

You looked up with a startled gasp at the familiar voice speaking your name.

When his parents had pulled him away to his room, the guards grasping your arms in tight grips and taking you to the throne room to await the king, you’d been terrified. Terrified of what your fate would be, terrified of how much trouble Thranduil would be in. Terrified of never being able to kiss him, or hug him, or even speak to him again.

And your fears were proved correct. The king had come back and had you dragged away to the dungeons for life. Or at least until his death, which didn’t seem likely to be anytime soon.

You’d been sure you’d never see your lover again.

But now… “Thranduil?” Your voice was raspy after years of having no one to talk to but now Thranduil stood in front of you, a crown upon his head, separated from you only by bars.

Thranduil struggled with words as he stood stared at you, poorly concealing his shock. Your face was just as dirty as the rest of you apart from dried tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes were dimmer than he’d ever seen them and there was no trace of the smile he’d 

come to love.

Suddenly he seemed to snap back into action when you repeated his name in your raspy voice. “Stay there. I’ll be back.”

As Thranduill left the cells, continuing down to the cellar he inwardly chastised himself. ‘Stay there?’ What kind of statement was that to say to his lover he hasn’t seen in years, who was currently locked in a cell that he was going to get the keys to?

Thankfully, the cellar was also empty apart from a few elves who were fetching more wine for the party above.

They didn’t seem to see him as he silently took the keys off their hook, retreating back up the stairs.

You didn’t know what to think when Thranduil disappeared downstairs. You didn’t know what his father had told him about you but surely he hadn’t know you were here if he was that shocked. Or maybe he did and he just hadn’t expected to see you in such a condition?

And then there was the crown that rested on his golden locks. It looked good on him, there was no doubt about that, but what did it mean for you, both as a person and as a couple?

Would you be free? Would you ever be a couple again? Did he still love you? Probably not. After all, he was a king now, and even if you were free to go back to your life you were still a lowly servant.

You couldn’t help but shiver slightly as a chill swept through the cells just as Thranduil returned, a set of keys in his hands.

When Thranduil returned to the cell he caught you shivering, and it made his heart pang. If it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be here. But now he would get you out and spend as long as it took to earn your forgiveness, and maybe even your love back.

You watched as he fitted a key in the lock, turning it and pulling open the door, and for the first time in years there was nothing to separate you from him.

As Thranduil opened the door and crouched down to your level he couldn’t help but notice that you’d lost weight, and although you were still beautiful to him, you were no longer the healthy, happy elf he’d fallen in love with.

Your breathing was shaky and you could feel your heart speed up as the young king tentatively reached out to rest his hand on your cheek. Your eyes slipped closed for a moment as he ran his thumb across your cheekbone, but opened when you felt him pull away.

He studied you with a sorrowful gaze, his face only inches from yours. “Can you ever forgive me for letting this happen?” He murmured.

You blinked tears away. Why he would think this was his fault you didn’t know, but you couldn’t stand him being so close to you and looking so down.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” You murmured, gently lifting a hand to pull his face to yours and connecting your lips.

For a moment Thranduil froze, before moving his lips with yours and wrapping his arms around you tightly.

You both pulled back, leaning your foreheads together for a moment before he scooped you up in his arms, standing and for the first time in years, taking you out of the cell and to somewhere you could be safe and loved.