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Chapter Text

The sea of orcs would be enough to get a normal person lost, however, Thranduil wasn't a normal person nor a normal elf for that matter. It had been easy to navigate through the orcs so he wouldn't accidentally hit one of the dwarves with his elk. Just as he had slain the orcs around him and prepared for others to meet his blades, movement on the bridge to Dale had caught his eye.

Tens, maybe even a few hundreds, of orcs heading to Dale, ready to slay the people of Laketown. Thranduil quickly got rid of the orcs around him and more fell as he started to make his way towards the bridge that Bard and his people had crossed. How long ago was that? He did not know and didn't pay it any mind, afterall there were more important things to take care of. 

He finally made it through the swarms of orcs and was now riding quickly towards the gates of Dale, killing the orcs on the bridge in the process. His elk miraculously missed all the arrows intended for him and Thranduil quickly got off his back, he had orcs to slay after all. He defeated the archers on the ground first, not wanting them to hit his mount. He quickly decided that, while his mount had followed him into battle many times, this was too dangerous and shouted the signal for the elk to leave. The animal hesitated for a little bit, now wanting to leave his friend and owner behind. Thranduil, however, shouted the command again and this time the elk ran.

After sending his mount away, Thranduil continued making his way through the seemingly endless rows of orcs, killing quite a bit of them. In the process of slaying one of the awful creatures, he suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot from his side. He killed the orcs closest to him while knocking the ones that were further back away from him. In the moment they took to recover, he pulled the arrow that struck him from his side, threw it away, and continued on like nothing happened. Later on, when he would finally remember, he would find that to be a mistake.

The number of orcs was slowly but steadily decreasing when suddenly, he heard a shout from above. It would seem that the grey wizard, Mithrandir, saw something. Thranduil turned his eyes in the direction he was pointing and saw three dwarves climbing Ravenhill with their goats. He had a guess on who the three were, Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews no doubt. It would seem that they were going to try to kill Azog. As much as he hated dwarves, he hoped they succeeded. Azog had to die, the orc had done more trouble than he was worth and Thranduil wanted him to be gone for good.

In his moment of distraction, more orcs pooled in from both sides. Some of them managed to graze him with their weapons before being quickly killed by his own weapons. No doubt this was going to take more time. He sighed and continued on. After what felt like endless minutes, the orcs weren't pooling in as many numbers as before. That wasn't to say there was little of them, no there was still quite a lot of them, but their numbers have once again decreased. 'At least something was going a little good' he thought. 

Just as the thought left him, more orcs started pouring out from behind. He sighed and deflected their weapons as he, once again was swarmed by orcs.

Surprisingly, someone had started shooting the orcs with arrows, making it easier and quicker for him to strike the orcs, who got distracted by the shooting. 

After the remaining orcs were dealt with, Bard jumped down from the half-destroyed wall that he shot the orcs from. ''King Thranduil! Are you alright?''

''Yes, I am fine. No need to worry Bard'' said Thranduil. It wasn't a lie per se, he was feeling fine. The pain shooting from his side said otherwise.

Bard looked him over, seemingly satisfied with Thranduil being alright, until his sight reached his side. ''But you're bleeding!''

Thranduil didn't know why Bard seemed so worried, it wasn't that bad of an injury, he'd lived through worse. ''It is a small wound, it is not that dangerous''

''Still, let me bandage it for you'' Bard insisted. Thranduil hesitated, he couldn't waste much more time. He'd hoped that the dwarves would be able to kill Azog, but it was taking too long.

Bard saw Thranduil's hesitation and looked him in the eyes. ''Please'' He pleaded. ''It won't take long, just a few minutes''. Thranduil stifled a sigh and nodded.

After that Bard quickly pulled out bandages, where he got them was a mystery to Thranduil, and started bandaging his side. Thranduil hissed in pain a few times, while Bard quietly apologized.

''Alright, it's done'' Bard said after tightening the bandages to make sure they wouldn't fall off. Thranduil thanked him and stood up ready to get back to the battle field. Just as he started walking Bard tugged on his hand and Thranduil turned around. Then he saw desperation in Bard's eyes as he pleaded: ''Be careful, please''. Thranduil slightly smiled at his concern, though he still didn't understand why, ''Do not worry Bard, I will be alright'' he spoke and Bard, seemingly satisfied with his answer, let go of his hand and quickly grabbed his bow.

''Let's meet again after this'' Bard spoke with certainty. ''Yes, let us do that'' Thranduil agreed with the same certainty. And just like that, they parted ways again.

After parting ways with Bard, Thranduil hurried back to the gate he originally came through. He whistled to call his elk and had to wait for a few minutes before the elk came running through the gate. The elk circled him and soon started sniffing him to make sure he was alright. His elk seemed particularly unhappy with his bandaged sides, proding the place with his nose a few times, which cause Thranduil to hiss in pain.

Thranduil carefully lifted his elk's head and started petting him, assuring him that he was fine and that they needed to go. The elk understood his desperation and turned so Thranduil could climb on more easily.

After he was settled on his mount's back, Thranduil beckoned him to go forwards and they were off. He managed to cut a few orcs down, but focused more on the goal of getting to Ravenhill. He, unlike the dwarves, had to go through a longer way. This was because the dwarves' mounts were goats, who were naturally good at climbing, and while his elk was very fast and strong, Thranduil didn't want to risk him slipping and falling. 

The small, barely-there ache in his side had started increasing in pain, it was now very hard to ignore the pain, but he had to push through. Thranduil was eternally grateful for Bard's insistence of bandaging him otherwise, he feared he would've been suffering the effects of blood loss. But somehow, Thranduil had the feeling that he was forgetting something, something important. He couldn't for the life of him remember what it was that was so important.

As he was steadily rising up the hill with his elk, orcs started blocking his way. They, of course, stood no chance against Thranduil (and if a few managed to graze him then no one needed to know his elk kicked them extra hard). 

He was getting close, as he heard the sounds of an ongoing fight. He'd, of course, seen the bats flying at Ravenhill and had seen the eagles approaching to take them down. He even thought he caught a glimpse of Legolas and Tauriel, though he didn't pay them any mind. They were formidable warriors, they could take care of themselves. Thranduil even had a feeling that the dwarf that Tauriel had fallen in love with was there too, he did not need to worry. 

He had finally reached the top of the mountain and got off his mount. He couldn't help but wince as pain shot up from his side, but otherwise he ignored it and sent the elk away. He wasn't about to risk Azog killing his elk.

He hurried up the ruins, taking note of the knocked out hobbit laying near some orc corpses.

He suddenly startled as he heard what sounded suspiciously like Thorin screaming.

He sped up and was met with a sight of Azog pushing his blade-arm against Thorin's sword. Slowly, but surely winning the battle of strength.

He didn't know he started moving until he slammed his body into Azog, throwing the orc off of Thorin. Both Thranduil and Azog slid on the ice in different directions as Thorin still laid there shocked about what had happened with a small gash on his chest.

Thorin suddenly quickly stood up, wincing as his punctured leg protested, his eyes staring at Azog who was staring at something to his left. As Thorin turned his head at what Azog was staring at, he felt his breath leave him as his widened in even more shock.

There, on the ice was crouched the Elvenking himself, no doubt being the one to throw Azog off of Thorin and in-turn, being the one to save Thorin's life.

He couldn't believe it, Thranduil had saved his life, he hated the elf, but he was thankful for that one act (That didn't mean he forgave him, but the hate lessened just a tiny bit)

Thranduil, still crouching on the ground, was carefully watching Azog. The wile creature was also still on the ground from the impact. Both of them stood up, roughly at the same time.

Azog quickly started attacking Thranduil who dodgeed out of the way and moved himself closer to Thorin, who looked a bit angry at the elf being near him.

''We need to work together. Oakenshield!'' Thranduil shouted, dodging out of the way of another strike. He could tell Thorin was about to say something, but had to dodge out of the way of Azog's strike.

''There's no way that I'll ever work with the likes of you, elf!'' Thorin shouted back before dodging the blade that was coming for him.

Thranduil groaned internally, both out of annoyance at the dwarf and the pain that was steadily increasing in his side.

''Do you want to kill him or not?!'' Thranduil snapped, fed up with Thorin, attacking Azog, only for the orc to dodge out of the way, getting grazed by the sword if only just a little.

Thorin weighed his options while striking at Azog and dodging out of the way of the orcs' blade. On one hand he could once and for all get rid of Azog, on the other hand he had to do it with the help of the Elvenking.

Thorin groaned, annoyed that he had to work with the elf he hated. ''Fine, let's take him down!'' he grumbled.

Thranduil felt grateful that the dwarf could at least see the logical way of things.

Together they stood against Azog, fighting side by side. 

It was done.

Azog was finally dead.

Thranduil and Thorin heaved heavily, staring at the corpse of the wile creature.

Thorin was looking at Azog's corpse with completion in his eyes, finally getting revenge after what the orc had done, panting with exhaustion and slight pain.

Thranduil heaved heavy with pain and exhaustion. He had started to see little black spots appear in his vision at the end of the fight. The pain that pulsed from his side was excruciating, it was simply unbearable. He closed his eyes, hoping to somewhat gather his composure in front of the Dwarven king. He was unsuccessful,

After catching his breath, Thorin turned to Thranduil. Even though the dwarf was reluctant, he needed to thank the elf for saving his life. Just as he caught sight of Thranduil, he knew immediately that something was off about the Elvenking. It was either the way he was heaving, even though the fight finished minutes ago, or the way his shoulders slumped and he couldn't seem to be able to right himself. Just then Thorin noticed a bloody bandage on the side of the elf. It was cut in a few places, but still held together quite nicely. The alarming thing was that the bandages were completely soaked through with blood.

Thranduil opened his eyes to see the black spots in his vision had increased, he barely processed that someone was speaking to him. He started slightly swaying on his feet and his vision worsened within seconds.

The last thing he saw before his vision went completely black was Thorin Oakenshield's alarmed face.

And just like that Thranduil had lost consciousness

Chapter Text

At first, all he could hear was ringing.

What was ringing? He didn't know

After a while, the ringing slowly faded into static.

He couldn't decide which was better.

Finally, the static had disappeared and silence ensued.

His whole body hurt, he realized.

Why did it hurt? What had happened? He couldn't remember.

The pain got worse and worse as he felt himself be moved.

Finally, familiar voices reached his ears, though he could not figure out who they belonged to.

They were frantic, worried, though he could not hear them very well.

It was as if someone had stuffed cotton in his ears.

He was laid onto a warm surface, it was comfortable. The pain had not eased, yet he felt quite relaxed.

The voices started sounding more worried as he heard people running around.

A sharp pain in his side caused him to let out a quiet whimper.

The hands resting on that side froze, before continuing in their work.

He was laying on furs, he realized.

And the voice speaking to him was one of the Elven healers.

He could feel the pain rising once again as he stopped focusing on the healer's muffled voice.

He faintly felt himself slipping away as the healer had tied the wounds he had sustained with bandages.

His thoughts came to a stop as he fully slipped into unconsciousness.

He, once again, could hear people talking as he drifted into consciousness.

This time, Thranduil was no longer stuck in that weird place between consciousness and unconsciousness, which was a relief.

He could finally identify those voices as that of Legolas and the healer that had treated him earlier, though he could not focus enough on them to know what they were saying.

'Legolas' he thought, though appearing cold, he had always loved his son and it broke his heart to see him standing against him. Logically, he knew why Legolas had done what he had, yet it still hurt that his son thought he would hurt him.

He heard rushed footsteps and the tent flaps open and close. Another voice, Galion, joined his son's and the healers'. It was a relief to know that Galion was alright. Thranduil had rushed off so fast to Ravenhill, he had not checked to see if Galion was okay.

He still felt pain, he realized, though it was not as strong as before, and felt muted. He remembered Bard bandaging his wounds and felt a warm feeling overcome him. He hoped Bard and his children were alright, he assured himself that Bard was a strong warrior and that he would be alright.

Despite being conscious for so little he felt drained. He felt hands on him and started trashing a little. The hands held him firmly and the last thing he heard before losing consciousness once more was a muttered

''Rest well, ada''

A few hours earlier

Galion was panicking.

The battle at Dale had stopped an hour or so ago, yet he could not find Thranduil anywhere. He'd been rushing through Dale trying to find his king, he'd asked Elves, Humans, anyone he'd run into if they'd seen the Elvenking, yet no one did.

He was beginning to lose hope when suddenly he saw a familiar face. Bard, his mind supplied. The dragon slayer was talking in hushed tones with his son while his daughters slept next to them.

Galion composed himself and quickly walked over to them. Bard noticed him approaching and stood up, walking to meet him.

''Have you seen the Elvenking?'' he asked with hope.

''Yes, I saw him during the battle. He had sustained an injury and I helped him bandage it. He rushed off after that, I recall him saying something about Ravenhill. Why? Did something happen?'' Galion breathed out a sigh of relief and then immediately felt horror and panic seep through him as Bard continued.

''Everything is alright, don't worry. Focus on your children and your people now.'' Galion said after he composed himself. After that, he quickly said goodbye to Bard and as soon as he was behind a corner, he rushed off.

He yelled for a few elves as he got on a horse and rode off. He could hear the elves following him and so he sped up.

They quickly got up the hill and off the horses.

Galion instructed them to search the place as they all went their separate ways. He'd explain to them what was happening while they rode up and they were all worried for the king.

Thranduil was very loved by his people so it made sense for them to be so worried

Just as he was rushing up the stairs leading to the main part, he heard a panicked shout and a thud. He sped up his steps and came to a sight that made him gasp.

On the ice laid the body of Azog, the orc looked like he had been stabbed multiple, though that was not the reason of his horror. Neither was Thorin Oakenshield, who stood a few meters away from the body with a horrified expression, Galion guessed that the panicked shout from earlier came from him.

No, the person that elicited such horror from him was unconscious on the ground. Even while not conscious, Thranduil had a pained expression and it took Galion a moment to get over his shock. When he did, he quickly rushed towards Thranduil while shouting for the other elves that came with him.

He kneeled by the king's body and quickly assed his wounds. He had a few cuts and scrapes on his face, nothing that couldn't be healed in a few moments. The alarming injury was the one hidden underneath the bloody bandages on Thranduil's side. He didn't bother unraveling them, he couldn't waste any time.

Galion heard rushed footsteps and quickly turned to the elves, who were also wearing panicked expressions. 

''Help me get him to the horses!'' He shouted and they quickly got to work. He lifted him up and some of the others rushed ahead to prepare the horses while the rest walked with him, ensuring he could carry their king. He noted that he couldn't see Thorin anywhere so the dwarf probably left at some point.

They were quick and gentle in carrying Thranduil down to where they left their horses. They got him secured to Galion's horse and quickly rode off. They were not as quick as they wanted to be as they had to be careful with their king. Some elves had rushed ahead earlier to get inform the healers.

A few minutes later, they were riding through Dale's gate and getting off their horses. Galion carefully held Thranduil up while he got off the horse and proceed to lift him into his arms. He quickly looked around and saw that thankfully thei tents had been set up near the entrance and Galion quickly rushed to the one with a healer symbol on it.

He barged in and all eyes turned to him. They quickly rushed him to put Thranduil on the makeshift bed and had him help get Thranduil's armor off for better access. After that he was ushured out of the tent while the healers set to work.

He started pacing around outside of the tent when he suddenly heard a familiar voice: ''Galion!''

He turned and saw Legolas rushing up to him. He looked worried, Galion noted.

''Have you seen adar? I need to talk to him about something.'' said Legolas. GAlion briefly wondered what Legolas needed to discuss with his father, but quickly got rid of that question. Now was not the time for that.

''Your father had been injured, he's currently being tended to by the healers'' Galion spoke quietly, as to not let anyone else overhear their conversation.

A shocked look had appeared on the prince's face and was quickly replaced by a worried one: ''Is it bad? Will he be alright?!'' he asked hurriedly.

Galion shook his head. ''It's bad, I do not know if he'll be okay. All we can do is wait'' Legolas looked grim at the news that there was a possibility that his father wouldn't live.

He wordlessly nodded and Galion walked them to a piece of ruble safe to sit on.

After that, they sat in silence until a healer showed up to tell them that they could now go to Thranduil, though they had to be quiet as he was not to be disturbed. Legolas looked partly relieved at the news that his father was alive, though there still remained something grim in his expression. There was, after all, still a possibility that thranduil would not make it through the night.

They entered the tent and Legolas had to hold in a gasp at the state his father was in. He quickly claimed a seat next to the bed and wordlessly took his father's hand into his. galion sat on the seat a bit further and put a hand on Legolas' shoulder.

All they could do now was hope.

Consciousness hit him as he slowly came back to himself. He rembered everything this time too.

Thranduil started opening his eyes only to shut them again as he was blinded by the light. He tried again, slower this time and managed to open them. 

He could see the ceiling of a tent. He heard a bit of noise coming through the door and getting louder along with steps of multiple people.

The tent flaps flew open as Legolas, Galion (who both looked quite exhausted) and one of the elven healers walked in.

The healer went to one of the crates with his equipment while his son and Galion had sat on the chairs next to the bed he was lying on.

They started whispering to themselves and as Thranduil and just woken up, he found he could not make out what they were saying.

''Are you really going to leave me out of the conversation?'' All of the heads in the room snapped over to him and widened eyes locked onto his. 

''Ada!'' ''Thranduil'' ''My king!'' Thranduil winced as all three shouted in their surprise.

Legolas immedietaly grabbed his hand and locked eyes with him. The prince looked relieved to see him awake, as did everyone in the tent.

''Ada'' Legolas whispered. Thranduil's look softened even more and he slowly lifted his other hand to cover his son's hand.

''I'm here, Ion nin, I'll be okay'' Thranduil whispered softly. He was not okay, he could still feel his injuries hurting. But he would be and that's all that mattered. To him, to Legolas, to Galion.

Thranduil would be okay