A/N: Hey! Let me explain the dedication really quickly. So, I know jordieblob16 wrote a heart crushing head canon for Thranduil's backstory.  I wanted to try to make an equally soul crushing one! }:D

Anyway, please tell me what you think. Is it sad? Is it cheesy? Is it stupid? Thanks! (Let me know if you don't know who Finwë is and I'll explain it.)  OOOOOH, and pic of Thranduil and the crew in the media sectiond. Ugh. Too many feels.

Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, sat on his great throne, his wife beside him. He glanced at her face as she put her hand over his, smiling softly.  

"Thranduil," she began, "I have something--"

"King!" shouted one of the guards, clad in gold armor and sprinting toward Thranduil.  "King, they're here!"

"They?" he asked, standing up quickly, his wife's hand falling to her side. "The spiders?"

The guard nodded, saying, "We couldn't hold them off, sir.  I'm sorry.  They're at the gates now."

Thranduil glared at him angrily, then looked back at his wife. She had to be protected. 

"Míriel," he said, letting her name roll off his tongue. Míriel. She was verylucky indeed to share the name of the great Míriel of old, wife of Finwë. But now, he worried for her. He knew the original Míriel's fate, and hoped that his wife would live for many years after his death. "Míriel, go to our room.  Take Legolas with you; you'll be safe there. I'm going to fight."

He heard elves shouting outside. Quickly, he threw on chain mail and helmet, which were sitting behind his throne. Míriel stood up, a worried look in her pale-blue eyes as she moved forward and threw her arms around her husband. "Be careful," she whispered.

"I will," he said softly, planting a kiss on her forehead before turning to the guard, nodding, and preparing to walk outside and fight; however, before they reached the great wooden doors, they burst apart and the spiders came streaming in. He sprung into action, slicing his sword back and forth as more elves came, only to be cut down and left motionless, the light fading from their eyes.

One spider managed to break through the line of elves.  It took off, running as fast as it's eight legs would carry it. Dread filled the Elvenking's heart as he watched it go.  It was heading in the direction of Míriel, and there were only two elves guarding her.  That spider was particularly large. They didn't have a chance.

"You three, come with me!" he barked at the nearest warriors.  They nodded, each of them managing to wound a spider before turning and sprinting with Thranduil.  

When they reached the room, it was chaos. The spider was being attacked by Míriel's two guards, but they didn't seem to be affecting it. Each blow seemed to glance off it. The four elves sprinted inside, marvelling at the spider's endurance. Truly, it was a creature bred by something evil. 

Thradnuil grimaced as two elves fell beside him.  He slashed at one of the spider's eyes, causing it to roar and impale another elf with one of it's pincers. Yet another fighter was stepped on and, by the look in his eyes and the agony-filled scream, Thranduil could see that he was mortally wounded.

"No," the king muttered.  He couldn't see Míriel. Besides him, there was only one elf left.  Before his eyes, that elf too was killed, though not before stabbing the spider in it's softer, more penetrable underbelly. It's legs flew out from underneath it, and it writhed on the ground for a minute.  Now was his trance. Thranduil jumped on it's head pushing his blade deep into it's brain.  It shuddered once, then twice, then fell to the floor, still.  The king jumped off and collapsed, eyes closed and breathing heavily. It was dead.  He was afraid to open his eyes. That was one of his weaknesses; he couldn't bear to see dead elves, companions of his, those who had died in battle.  Their faces were so fair, even covered in their own blood. It made his heart ache.

When he finally did open his eyes, he couldn't believe what he saw. He didn't want to believe it.  There lay Míriel, bloody read mark on her head, unbreathing. In her arms was little Legolas, also with cuts and bruises. He stood, tears burning in his eyes as he touched his wife's shoulder.

"Míriel. Míriel. Míriel. Míriel! MÍRIEL!" he shouted, his voice steadily getting louder. He was shaking her back and forth, trying to get her to wake up.  But never again would the queen of Mirkwood open her fair eyes. Realizing this heartwrenching fact, Thranduil set her down.  He stroked a piece of her brown hair, whispering her name once more as tears streaked down his blood and sweat stained face. "Míriel."

He glanced down at the small body laying beside her. "Legolas.  My son," he said softly.  The pain he was feeling was unlike anything he had ever felt before. In fact, he would have laid down right there and died with his family if Leoglas hadn't opened his eyes and gasped, "Ada?"

Depsite trying to keep it in, a sob escaped his throat.  He pulled his son close to him.  "Legolas..." he cried, holding the boy. And Legolas wasn't quite sure what was happening, but he started to cry anyways. He knew it was something bad. They sat there, father and son, both crying silently, until someone came to retrieve them. Little did Legolas know that was one of the last times Thranduil would show much affection towards him at all.

• • •

Legolas stood beside Tauriel, onserving the way the sunlight streamed through the stained-glass window.

"My father never visits the garden where my mother is buried anymore," he said casually, looking at Tauriel's hair.  She grabbed his hand in a sisterly sort of gesture, trying to comfort him. They stood in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Do you think about her a lot?" she asked suddenly, not sure what to say. Legolas smiled sadly. "Sometimes. She used to tell me that she and Adar had a love so great that nothing could separate them, not even death. She was sure that he would visit her all the time, but..." Legolas continued to talk, sharing stories about his mother, while Tauriel listened patiently. 

Thranduil stood watching them.  He could see the love in Leoglas's eyes when he looked at Tauriel.  That was the way he had looked at Míriel when she was alive.  He decided at  that moment that Legolas could not pledge himself to Tauriel.  She was too much like Míriel, and Legolas, his sweet Legolas, did not deserve to have his heart broken.  They lived in dangerous times. If Tauriel were to die... Thranduil did not want his son to have to endure the pain of what he had to go through.

Some said that when Thranduil lost his wife, Legolas lost his father.  He himself felt that was mostly true.  He felt like Thranduil didn't care about him. But it was okay, really. Legolas could fend for himself.

A guard ran up to them, panting. "Tauriel. Legolas.  The spiders are back, and have been spotted nearby."

They looked at each other, nodded, then ran to the gate, ready to fight. Thranduil stayed behind, and almost called out for Legolas to stay with him. That was the day Legolas lost Tauriel.  Not to death, though. To a dwarf. And Legolas felt a small, tiny fraction of what his father had felt the day of Míriel's death.