Title: TH Elvenking's Visitors

Chapter 1: Remembrance

Pairing: Thranduil/OC

Genre: Ship/Romance/AU/Angst/Humor

Rating: T, but M later.

Warning for Entire Fic: Spoilers, Sexual Situations, Language, Violence, Gore, Blood.

Spoiler Alert: The Hobbit (books, maps and movies)

Summary: Thranduil lost his wife years ago to war. After the death of the dragon, there is a group of humans who claim to have won a weekend trip to his kingdom, and he has no idea what they are talking about. He is suspicious especially since the last group that showed up caused problems.

A/N: This is set just after the Hobbit book. I have read the Hobbit and there is no mention of a Queen during this time, so for my fic I am going with the idea that Legolas' mother passed away. I am writing this after watching a trailer for the second Hobbit movie. I just can't get enough of the Elvenking, so I had to make this up. This is not a Canon-Fic. This first chapter is mainly to give background information on Thranduil's situation to lead into the story.

"Who is at the gate? I just parted with Gandalf, so I know it is not him." Elvenking Thranduil inquired while he unpacked his weaponry from his quest to the Lonely Mountain.

"No my King. It is a group of humans." The dark haired elf bowed knowing it would not be received well.

"Humans? I had not heard any news this morning that they had crossed into my woods." Thranduil stopped cleaning his sword and eyed the bowing elf before him. "Why is that and what do they want?"

"My King, they say they have won a trip and are curious to tour our dwelling. And, I am sorry my King I do not know why the sentry did not see them. I will make inquiries." He bowed even lower wanting to keep his head on his neck.

"Won a trip? Tour? So spies arrive at our gate. They traveled here undetected. And what? Knocked and asked to look around?" Thranduil picked up a gift he received from his son Legolas. It was a belt that allowed you to carry your sword on your side in a scabbard. He felt the silver material knowing it matched with his attire.

He shook his head very minutely, tried on the belt and slid the sword home inside the scabbard. "Did Legolas send you in here?"

"No my King."

"Are you jesting?" He took a breath and adjusted the belt on his hips. It felt unusual to him to have something restraining about the waist, but he thought to himself that even Gandalf wore such a belt.

"Never my King." He was practically on the floor he bowed so low.

"Escort them out of my realm…no wait. I need to understand how they got this far without being seen. Bring them in and show them to the throne room. Question them and see what you can find out then come back. Since they have been so forthcoming already, maybe they will tell who sent them and why then we can execute them and up the prices on trade with who sent them."

Thranduil waited till he was alone and sat on his bed. It had been a long journey, and he had not even been back a day when other travelers show up. The last set caused a lot of problems for him. He leaned over putting his head in his hands speaking with hatred. "Dwarves."

It had been a long time since he had taken a trip abroad and fought in skirmishes. It brought back the memories of her. The one whom his heart loved above all others. She was kind and wise, and as far as he was concerned near perfect. But he had lost his wife when she ventured outside of their camp to help wounded Dwarves.

Thinking of it now, he stood and paced. He had went to war with his wife by his side because she insisted. He had won a great many battles with her counsel and wit. But she had a heart that was too big to be in battle he thought now. They had camped for the night, but she ventured into the woods farther on. He hadn't noticed she left because he had been wounded and was being tended.

Birds flocked into the camp chattering to him about his Elvenqueen hearing sounds in the woods and going to investigate.

Even with a gash in his side where his organs had near spilled in battle, he stood to his feet and brandished his sword. The healers had barely sewn up his wound and were even then trying to stop him so they could enchant the wounds for a fast recovery. He waved them aside fearing for his love.

He ventured into the unknown woods with hundreds of his men who volunteered to find her. His side ripped partially open and bleed as he climbed over fallen trees and ran as fast as he could go given the undergrowth. His face and hands were covered with scratches when more birds hovered telling what they knew.

He gasped in horror hearing that she had come across a group of Dwarves who were badly wounded and set upon by wolves.

The Elvenking and his men made it to the location the birds told of and dispatched the remaining wolves. He stood among the dead wolves and peered into the gore seeking signs of his beloved. It took him a few moments before he spotted her golden hair that was half covered with blood.

Thranduil's heart shuddered to a stop and in that moment part of him died.

He went to her and fell next to her unwrapping the wolf from her body. "No."

He wiped blood and mud from her face willing her eyes to open. "My love." He could not feel her breathing or a pulse, and he knew she was gone.

For thousands of years he had woke every day feeling gifted by her presence. He had children with her and loved her dearly so that every part of his life was wrapped up in her happiness. And now she was gone.

As his own blood spilled on the muddy ground mixing with hers, a rough voice sounded behind him in the gore. "She saved us."

Thrandil's bloodshot eyes turned to see Dwarves lying on the ground with severe wounds. He wanted to slice his sword over their throats for contributing to her death. He shook his head knowing that he was not being rational and if she were there he knew she would not approve.

He found himself talking. "I would that you and your brethren died slow and agonizing deaths than for my love to even receive a cut on her hand. Go and die somewhere else. Your lives were purchased with too high a price."

His eyes burned with unshed tears as the Dwarves bowed their heads.

One risked speaking again. "She killed so many of them. I've been in many battles, but I've never seen a warrior with such courage and skill. We were already wounded when the wolves found us. There were twenty of us, but the time she found us there were seven. Six of us survived and it was because of her. We mourn with you and understand your loss is great. Could you tell us her name? We will sing songs of her courage."

Thrandil continued to clutch her body knowing he would never see her smile again. He would never hear the lilt in her voice as she laughed at one of his silly tales he would tell to amuse her. He would never again kiss her lips or forehead. He would never again feel the joy of her company. She was gone. Taken. Killed while he lay having his body sewn back together.

He felt that it was his responsibility to protect her and he hadn't. "Her name shall not be spoken by me or anyone else. From this time forth. She was my Elvenqueen and that is all you may know of her."

He continued to hold her as the Dwarves bowed their heads in respect, but he didn't care. He had already deemed they were not worth the price she paid. He knew she would not see it that way and knew she believed if you could help someone in distress then it was worth almost any cost. He had always admired her for that, but now wished that he had discouraged it because she would be safe now.

His healers came to close him back up, but he pushed them away wanting one more moment with her. One more second. One more chance to pretend it was not real; she was only sleeping.

For the first time in his thousands of years worth of life, he openly wept and cared not that he was being watched. His love was gone and his entire body shook with the horror of it.

When the healers gently took her from him, he wrapped every memory and thought he had concerning her and pushed it into the darkness.

He allowed them to stitch back his open wound, and he did not feel the pain because the wound in his heart was so much worse.

Now in his room years and years later, he pressed his hands hard against his head as he struggled against the emotional turmoil that flowed over him like great waves of the sea. Each one drowning him in sorrow. Each one bathing him in renewed grief.

A knock at his door brought him turning toward the sound. He swayed under the force of the tide that still brought images of her smiling face then bloodied throat into his troubled mind. "Enter."

"My King, your son Legolas sought you out in the throne room believing you were there. He left word that he was venturing to Rivendell to see Elrond about the borders that were negotiated. The humans stopped him with paper and writing utensils asking him for something called an autograph. They gave him the writing items and then asked him to put his name on them. Since they were blank pieces of paper with no contracts on them he signed, but put the symbol that it is not a binding contract of any kind. There were several they wanted signed and kept asking him about his clothing and bow then something called a movie. He managed to leave telling them he had urgent business. They were so happy and thanking him." He paused watching his king secure his crown then shimmy his hips pulling on the belt as if he were checking it would stay in place.

Thranduil took a long drink of Elven wine.

Since he did not comment, the servant continued his story. "One young red haired female held up her hands with a flat box. It made a click sound and flashed with light. She commented that he was hot. He assured her that he did not have a fever and she replied that she wished it. After talking to her for a few moments, his face started to flush. It is the most peculiar thing that anyone has memory of happening in Mirkwood for generations. We fear they are mad or touched by the gods."

Thranduil felt dizzy as he suppressed his emotions and tried to keep up with his servants rambling. When he was sure that his face only expressed mild annoyance, he allowed himself to speak, but kept his voice low because he didn't trust it yet. "Very well. Let's go see these mad humans with flashing boxes."

A/N: :) Ok, so this is the back story for my non-canon fic. I was going to jump forward to a romantic interlude then found myself writing the story of his wife and why he is resistant to helping others. Well, I can definitely use that later. It's 5 in the morning and I need to go to bed. What do you think of the first chapter?