I recommend listening to this song while reading the part from Thranduil's POV (ooooh!) The lovely floranocturna said I should listen to it because it reminded her of Elena, the fallen star :)

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Thranduil's POV

A sudden flame knocks me and everything around me down to the ground. The orcs fall together as a visible shock wave flattens them, and do not rise again. Gathering my wits, I sit up to face the source of the magic, but she's not there.

Elena is gone.

Just like that, I've lost her.  She's gone just as quickly as she had appeared that night, when a blazing white fire had fallen right into my line of sight.  I was only going for a ride that night, with no intention but to escape the suffocating confines of my kingdom, yet what I did when she was in my arms is unspeakable.  No excuses, no apologies could justify my actions, and somehow she still managed to love me. 

But now she's gone.  She's gone, because I wasn't quick enough.  I cannot explain the level of magic that took her away from me, for I never saw Menelion depart all those years ago, but it was something evidently too strong for Elena to combat.

Why did I have to hesitate?  I wasn't afraid... was I?  Afraid to touch her when she was burning with starlight fire?  My fear has cost her her life, and lost me her love.  Ilúvatar knows where she is now.

The night suddenly closes in around me, forcing my head to my knees, where the reeking remnants of the orc that was crushing Elena are still leaking black blood into the soil. I do not hear any of the clamour erupting from all sides, the elves running in from all directions and their footsteps thundering on the ground. I can only stay here, paralysed, immobilised, breathing in the pungent scent of orc mingled with the sweetness of the beds of lissuin and niphredil. My own breathing fills my ears, long and deep, joining the pounding of my heart which is now suffering its last break. This is the last thing. Legolas barely cares for me at all—I have my own stupidity to thank for that—and the one person who does has been taken away from me.

This is what I had feared. This, this anguish... I have felt it countless times, and I swore to never have to feel it again, not while I could protect Elena from the fate that befell all others who were close to me. They all left me in one way or another, and I told her this, I told her that it was a risk to be near me, I told her I would put her in danger—but she told me it was alright.  She told me I would never lose her, yet it seems I have broken my vow.  Broken my vow, my heart, and the kingdom.  She was the hope that I was clinging to, and now darkness descends in place of her light.

There have been tears before, tears for my mother and my father and Ellerian, tears when I was forced to run away from Fínegel, tears when Legolas chose to leave for Imladris for the first time... tears when I cut Elena away from me. But now... there's nothing left. Nothing. 

I cannot find the strength to weep now.  Of all the times in the endless millennia of my life, this is the worst.  And I know it.  Not only is there guilt, a sense that I could have done something to save her, but there is the knowledge that Elena attacked that orc because it was going to attack me.  And above all that, it was Elena whom I loved the most, Elena who melted my heart as though she was a fire and—and my heart was ice.

She was fire. I was ice.

He yearned for someone to complement himself. He's ice, and he wanted fire. Unfortunately for him, I'm water. He believes he loves me, but ice could never love water like it loves fire. It craves something that burns bright, and that's not me. There is no passion, no spark, no mingling fury of true love between us. He deserves more than what I can give. Thranduil Oropherion deserves a better Queen.

Ellerian knew all along what it was I needed. I had it, for a brief moment I had it within my grasp, and now I do not. I lost it—she burned out. Inexplicably, I know, but she did.

When I was with Elena, I was becoming snow. Softer, yet still myself. If only someone could relight the white fire, relight the Star that lit up everything I thought I knew... but they cannot. There is no reason for me to hope.

There is nothing.

***

Elena's POV

I have no physical form, but through the wisps of cloud I can still see the crowds of elves rushing to where I once was. Gelya, dropping to her knees; Tauriel, hiding her face in her hands; Thranduil, the very picture of despair as he curls himself into a position making him look the most vulnerable I have ever seen him.  Other lugubrious elves have gathered in a dismal circle around the scorch marks I left behind, with Thranduil alone in the centre.  Alone, because someone took me away from him.

That someone promptly takes physical form and gives my own body back to me.  Before me on a dais of cloud stands Varda, Elbereth, Elentári, Queen and Star-kindler—the names given to her are beyond count.  But she is a Vala, mightiest of the Valier, and one of the very few who wield greater power than myself.  She is unnaturally tall, eight feet perhaps in her glory, and is surrounded by an ethereal glow illuminating the deep sky.  A floor-length gown of midnight blue enrobes her body, glittering with Star-like embellishments and contrasting with the delicate pale colour of her perfect skin.  Her mass of night-black hair is adorned with millions of tiny white lights, while her brow sports a silver-white circlet with a band of seven Stars at the front—one for each of the Valier - Yavanna, Nienna, Vána, Vairë, Estë, Nessa and Varda herself.

I have never had the privilege to gaze upon my ruler, never been graced with her presence or been surveyed with those doe-like eyes which house an infinity of wisdom.  I knew nothing of her sharp cheekbones and arched brows, and the way her thin lips tighten as Varda clears her throat.

'Before you ask... you will return to Middle Earth.  You are only with me for a short time,' she says, her voice a deep yet feminine melody, once again with age upon age of refinement and gravitas resting upon it.

I mustn't let myself be distracted by her magnificence.  I have a score to settle, regardless of how disrespectful I turn out to be. 

'Why?' I ask bitterly, 'why would you let me return when it was you who took me away at the worst of moments?'

Varda seems to ignore my rudeness as she replies solemnly, 'to keep you here would abolish all that we have worked towards achieving.  To keep you from Thranduil would be to kill him.'

'Then why am I here?' I persist, 'he was going to save me, and now...'

'You are here for a reason, just like you were sent to Middle Earth for a reason,' Varda cuts me off, firmly yet not irritably.

'I have to get back to him!  He thinks I'm dead!  They all think I'm dead!'

'All in good time, Elena.  We have much to talk about.'

I purse my lips impatiently.  'Alright, how about what in Arda was I supposed to achieve? I have brought nothing but grief and suffering to that innocent kingdom.'

'That is not true. Think of Thranduil.'  Varda remains almost impassive.

'He is the very reason why I must go back. No matter what it was I was supposed to do, no matter what you want of me, I will go back to him. I will not be a pawn in your game a moment longer.'

'You think this is a game?'  She raises one of those sharp, black eyebrows.  'Well, you would be mistaken, Elena.'

'In what way?'

'Everything that has happened is real.  The Valar, we took a gamble—the chances of one Star changing the course of the Woodland Realm were very slim, and only by giving King Thranduil his happiness back could it be done.  He was going to die, Elena.  He was going to fade out of existence through grief.  Our only hope was for you to become his ally, even better his friend.  But you gave him more than friendship, did you not?  You gave him love.  And without you, he would be dead by now.  Legolas would have refused the throne.  The kingdom would fall into chaos and disrepair, becoming vulnerable to attacks, and easily defeated.  Thranduil is a great King, and for the Woodland Realm to endure, it needs him.  Our last attempt to save his life and therefore the kingdom was you, and you have done it.  Now begins a time of unity.'

I was supposed to help Thranduil?  But—but what if he only fell in love with me because that was the Valar's will?  I hastily swallow my queries and respond to her latest statement.  'Unity?  Between who?'

'Between the Woodland Realm and my Stars.  Through you, a new alliance can be made.  I am calling it the union of Erthelin.  You shall be the link between earth and sky.  If ever the Stars are needed, they will answer to you.  And I feel that they shall be needed before this is over.  Sauron grows stronger day by day, and now that the Ring of Power has been found, the threat of war has increased again.'

'Why... why did you put me through all of this?  The pain?'

'In order for you to be the required link, you had to learn two things: how to feel as one of the elves, and how to treat them as your equals.  You learned the first by experiencing fear, anger, heartbreak, friendship and love.  You learned the second through Thranduil and your friends; they taught you to see yourself not as a superior being, but as an equal to them.  I never told Stars they were better than everyone else.  You just all grew to think that, and you have now discovered the truth.  I know you are worried, Elena.  I know you have doubts and fears, about yourself and whether you can live up to my words, and you wish to know if Thranduil and your friends are still safe.  They are, and soon you shall return to them.  And when you become Queen of the Woodland Realm—you will, because Thranduil shall want you as his wife sooner or later—you have no reason to doubt yourself.  You have come so far, and you are ready for this responsibility.  Thranduil loves you, and he chose to do so—we had no say in it.'

I pause, feeling myself break into an appreciative smile.  I do not need to put up a fight.  It is real.  'Thank you... I still do not know one thing.'

'What is that?' Varda asks kindly.

'What exactly was my task?'

'Your task was to save the King, strengthen the kingdom and unify it with the Stars.  It was to be an ally of Thranduil—not necessarily his lover, but the way you have done it was better than how any of us could have imagined.  It was not something you had to do; I thought, by wanting to save the Woodland Realm, I was asking for too much, and the chances of success were unbelievably small.  But you strove.  You carried on.  And now you must believe in yourself again—there is hope for Middle Earth, and every one of us, including you and Thranduil, can be part of it.'

'So... it was all real,' I whisper in relief.  After all this time, I finally know my task and it was to do with Thranduil?  How was I beside him the whole time and yet convinced that he wasn't part of it?  How did I not see?

'Yes.  All of it.  And you should be proud of yourself.' Varda pauses, as if in deep thought.  'From the moment the crown touches your head, you shall be Elena Rîngail—"crowned with bright light".'

'Thank you again.  I am sorry for anything I may have said...'

'You do not need to apologise.  You need only to return to where you belong.'

'I will.'  I incline my head respectfully towards her.  'Of course I will.'

***