And now for another blast into the past! Time to finish the story of Thranduil and Leo ;)

Interlude IV

(I still don't own anything)

Thranduil was in a foul mood for a long time after he woke up alone in the clearing, the cheerful sunny morning greeting him like a slap to the face. It felt as if Lëo had stolen a piece of his soul and disappeared into the night, never to return it. He would never be whole again. Despite his anger, he returned to the clearing the next night, and every night after that for several weeks without fail, hoping that somehow, she had changed her mind.

She never came back.

Thranduil threw himself into his work, waking up early to attend drills and going to bed late after reading and writing reports or meeting with his generals. When he wasn't in the field or in his office he locked himself in his rooms, speaking only to servants and turning away any other visitors. He stopped attending parties and other royal functions unless his father ordered him to be there. He became unsociable, cold, and distant, rarely speaking to anyone unless it pertained to the war, was rude to the servants and terse with his family.

Eventually King Oropher confronted his son about his constant state of anger, after Thranduil had snapped at a visiting diplomat and humiliated a young elleth that had been flirting with him. His father had a sneaking suspicion the elven prince had had his heart broken.

Thranduil had sneered and laughed derisively at the very idea. His father had stopped pressing him for answers soon after.

Weeks turned into months and months turned into years.

The war waged on.

Time dulled his pain, and soon Thranduil was once again preoccupied by the War of the Last Alliance. The war seemed to be drawing to a close, for the dark forces were retreating and the armies of men were pressing into the borders of Mordor. However the more losses that Sauron's armies suffered the more dangerously they fought, desperate to stall retreat. Thranduil had had more near-death experiences in the past year than he had in centuries.

The years blurred together until he lost sense of time and suddenly, he found himself facing Sauron's armies in the final battle upon the plains of Dagorlad.

The Alliance had pushed into Mordor itself, and the armies of men, elves, and dwarves clashed against orcs, ogres, men, and all manner of dark creatures on Sauron's very doorstep. The human king and Lord Elrond were attempting to carve a path towards Sauron himself, their best warriors and knights alongside them, cutting down any soldier of darkness who dared attack their kings.

A roar thundered overhead as a great black dragon soared above the chaos. Thranduil watched in awe and horror as the black plates upon its breast began to glow, its scales glowing orange at their edges before a great plume of fire burst forth from his maw. The smell of ash and burnt flesh rose in the air as the flames collided with the earth like a meteor, raining down upon the soldiers below, scorching both sides of the conflict. Thranduil sneered at the monster as it circled high in the air, clearly without any regard for any of the soldiers below, whether they fought for the Light or the Darkness.

His momentary distraction nearly cost him his life as a company of orcs bore down upon him. Ducking out of the way, Thranduil whirled around as his twin blades leapt into his hands, their familiar weight strengthening his bravado. He called for his fellows to come to his aid, and soon Thranduil and a company of elves and men were engaged in an age-old fight with the orcs.

A shadow loomed over them.

"Everybody scatter!" A human soldier cried out, and men, elves, dwarves and even the orcs were all skittering about like ants to avoid the fireball that came crashing down from the sky as another dragon, this one a crimson red like the blood which soaked the battlefield, soared overhead. Thranduil was shocked to hear a deep, rumbling laughter, and snapped his head up to see that, yes, it was the beast from which the sound came. The dragon was laughing with dark malice, its golden eyes filled with bloodlust and excitement, its grin revealing fangs as long as a greatsword yet sharper still.

A piercing shriek split the air as a giant eagle slammed into the dragon, digging its talons into the side of the beast, hot blood splattering the soldiers below. The dragon roared and barrel-rolled, and then the two beasts were off, chasing each other through the sky as fire and feathers filled the air, joining the wails of men burning alive. Thranduil glanced down with indifference to an orc soldier rolling on the ground as it tried to put out the flames of a dragon that was supposed to have been its ally. The elf's face remained impassive as he cut the orc's head off.

He turned to leap back into the conflict, sparks flying as his swords clashed with orc steel. A cry from the humans made him pause to glance up from his latest kill, only to see that the human king Elendil had been cornered by Sauron. Glancing from side to side, Thranduil made eye contact with his kinsmen, nodding to each other in agreement. Then he and several other elves were leaping above the fray, stepping across orc helms and human shields as they raced to rescue the human king. Another dragon swooped through the sky, ridden by a Nazgûl of all things.

A great screeching ripped through the air, and a large shadow was quickly growing bigger and darker on the ground before them. Thranduil and his men slid to a stop before quickly backtracking as a dragon fell from the sky, separating them from the fallen human king. A dark green dragon slammed into the ground with such force that the earth shook and caved beneath it, creating a small crater. Blood splattered across the ground, alerting Thranduil to the dragon's imminent death.

The creature roared in anger and pain as it flapped its one remaining wing, the other one somehow torn from its socket, leaving a large hole where Thranduil could see shards of bone and limp flesh bleeding profusely. The dragon's only other wing was shredded beyond repair, leaving it with only its hind legs. That did not mean that the beast was done, however, for it began to snap and wildly breathe fire as the armies of light attempted to descend upon it. However it was a losing battle, and Thranduil felt momentary pity as a human leapt onto the creature's head and began gauging its eye out. The dragon wailed in a keening scream which no creature should have been able to produce, and the sound haunted all the men who were present to hear it. Finally the human atop the creature seemed to stab deep enough to penetrate to the dragon's brain, and as the great head of the beast fell, Thranduil felt a shiver go through him at the sight of its remaining golden eye losing its luster.

The sound of the dying dragon seemed to attract the other dragons' attentions. Orc and men alike cried warnings as two more of the winged beasts approached, breathing flame down upon the men who had dared killed one of their own. The black dragon Thranduil had seen before roared as it landed beside its fallen brethren, and Thranduil shuddered when he realized that the sound was less of a raging beast, but reminiscent to that of a mourning cry.

"Move!" Someone screamed, and Thranduil began running away as the black dragon let out an anguished snarl and began destroying anyone and everything in its path. He could feel the blast of heat on his back as a plume of fire shot out from the dragon, though thankfully Thranduil had managed to avoid the flames.

"Prince Thranduil!" An elf cried, approaching him nearly out of breath. "Quickly! To the Black Gates, my lord! The other kings have gathered there to face Sauron!"

Thranduil nodded and began to follow his kinsman through the fray of battle. The dragon behind them did not give chase, but continued to shake the earth with its roars. He was swift to join the elven armies and lords as their company began the final push against Sauron himself.

"The king! The dark lord has him! Quickly men!" Isildur encouraged the human soldiers as not far off, Sauron was advancing upon Elendil's company. And with that the armies of the light surged forward.

Sauron was a powerful enemy. He was a descendent of the Valar, with all the power of a divine being. Centuries old and wizened by many a war, the fallen Maia could fight by both sword and magic, and would not fall easily. Men, elves, dwarves and wizard threw themselves at him, but Sauron seemed to effortlessly toss them aside like rag dolls. Thranduil felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see his father beside him.

Oropher smirked at his son, and nodding with a silent agreement, the two elven lords leapt at their enemy. They moved in sync, both familiar with each other's fighting style. They were swift and dexterous, the best warriors that the elven kind had to offered. Still, Sauron batted their swords away like it was child's play. With a dark laugh the fallen Maia swept his arm out with black magic, and Oropher was sent reeling away. Before the elven king could recover, Sauron's arm shot out and grabbed Thranduil by the neck, hoisting the young elf high into the air. Thranduil choked as black magic began to seep into his throat and lungs, Sauron's touch burning his skin like cold fire. He struggled to find purchase, but Sauron was twice as large as any humanoid, and so even a tall elf like Thranduil was unable to even kick out at the dark lord or find any purchase.

"Thranduil!" Oropher called out, freezing at the sight of Sauron holding his son's life in his hands, quite literally.

"So eager to die, little elfling." Sauron drawled darkly. "I hear that children are quite precious to your kind. To lose one's offspring is a crippling tragedy." Sauron squeezed his hand around Thranduil's neck even tighter, leaving the prince gasping for air. "If I kill you, little elf, will it break your father?"

"No!"

Oropher yelled, but he was not the only one.

Sauron froze as a shadow swept over them and suddenly he was knocked back wards by a great gust of wind. The surprise attack made Sauron loosen his death grip on Thranduil, and the elf prince rolled free. Thranduil stumbled as he attempted to stand up, and was surprised to see who helped him gain his bearing.

A scaled tail was wrapped gently around his middle, supporting him as he regained his balance. Oropher was already racing to his side, grabbing Thranduil's arm and slinging it over his shoulders so that his son could lean on him. Then the elven king signaled his guards to surround them while he looked over his son for any injuries.

Thranduil stared at the dragon that had rescued him. He had never been so awed by a creature. It was… It was beautiful. The dragon was slimmer than the others he had seen, body sleek but muscled, built for speed and agility rather than brute strength. The creature's scales were a light purple, almost lilac, its hide marred by battle wounds still weeping blood. And when it opened its wings, Thranduil and Oropher were dazzled at the sight. The thin leathery material stretched between the bone structures was iridescent, reflecting every color imaginable as the light shimmered across its surface. And when the dragon turned to regard him with bright golden eyes, Thranduil was hit by a wave of familiarity.

The dragon turned away from the two elven lords and placed its body between them, crouching in a predatory manner, its tail curling up to bare a sharpened point that could easily pierce steel.

"You will not touch him."

Again Thranduil was struck by how familiar the voice sounded, not as dark as other dragon voices that he had heard, but still deep and chiming, ringing with a musical quality. Oropher gave his son a quizzical glance, but Thranduil was just as confused as he was.

"You pathetic lizard!" A dangerous voice growled as Sauron stood up. "You would dare stand against your master?!"

"Dragons do not have masters." The dragon snarled. "And it is time we remembered that!"

She was a female, Thranduil realized from the dragon's voice, though it was only discernible by the fact that her voice was less gravelly than the black dragon that had spoken earlier that day.

"Thranduil," Oropher murmured to his son. "What is the meaning of this? Do you know the beast?"

"I don't know. The voice is familiar but… I am quite sure I have never met a dragon before." Though Thranduil began to have his doubts as memories of a mysterious girl with golden eyes appeared before his mind's eye, her strange accent and outlandish appearance. But she had still been humanoid, making Thranduil doubt his suspicions.

A roar shook the air around them, and Thranduil's head snapped up to see Sauron engaging the dragoness in battle. Fire billowed out from her powerful jaws and Sauron countered it with a warding spell. He leapt into the air and slammed his mace against the side of the dragon's face, leaving multiple gashes down on its cheek, just under the eye. The dragoness snarled and swiped with razor-sharp claws at the fallen Maia, sending Sauron flying into a group of orcs. Enraged, the Maia jumped back to his feet and sent a blast of dark magic towards the dragon, only for the creature to block it with another plume of fire.

"Why is it not taking flight?" Oropher muttered, his eyes glued upon the fight.

Thranduil continued to wrack his mind for a clue about any connection between him and the dragoness. He was broken from his reverie when the dragoness roared in agony as Sauron's magic destroyed her right wing, decimating the fabric of the membrane until all that remained was the structure of the wing, her flesh hanging off of it like tattered cloth. Blood and bits of flesh coated the ground around the blast, making Thranduil nauseous. Still, the dragoness stood her ground.

"She… She is keeping herself between us and Sauron." Thranduil realized with a gut-wrenching feeling.

"What?" Oropher exclaimed, his gaze whipping to stare at the lilac-colored dragoness fighting against an equally monstrous being who, by all definitions, was equivalent to a god.

Sauron raised a steel-clawed hand and sent forth a blast of black magic. The dragoness opened her mouth and shot forth not fire, but light magic, much to the astonishment of the elves around them. No one knew that dragons could harness magic like that!

But it was not enough. The dragoness was bleeding out from several serious injuries, and she had already lost one limb, forced to lean her weight on her left wing to ease the pain of the destroyed right wing.

As their magic clashed, the dragoness' tailed curled upwards and shot towards Sauron, intent of impaling him. But the dark lord leapt out of the way of both her magical blast and the tail, and in the same movement drew his sword and hacked off the dragon's tail. The dragoness let out a screech in pain, rearing back and swiping her left claws in an attempt to force Sauron away from her. This caused her to accidentally place weight on her right limb and the dragon screamed as the reduced ability of the wing caused her to stumble. Sauron rounded on the dragon and continued blasting her with black magic, forcing her to stagger further away from the elves.

Suddenly Oropher seemed to realize what the dark lord was trying to do, as he hauled his son up and yelled at the guards to be ready to charge. Thranduil attempted to protest but his father had pushed him out of the immediate path of Sauron and Thranduil was left to watch as Oropher and his guards rushed Sauron. The dark lord scoffed at their approach and held up his hand, black energy swirling around his fingers. Thranduil's eyes widened as a wave of dark magic rose up around them and paralyzed the elven warriors. Sauron laughed malevolently as he strode forward and easily beheaded all of them, and then taking a moment to stab Oropher in through the chest and slitting the elven king's neck.

"Ada!" Thranduil gasped, his voice strangled.

Sauron turned to regard the young elf, laughing darkly. "And now it is your turn, little elf."

Thranduil felt cold with fear, his mind screaming at him to jump out of the way, but as he stumbled back Sauron cast a curse to paralyze him in place. The fallen Maia conjured a wall of black power, dark as the void and writhing with wraith-like shapes that seemed to silently scream.

And then Sauron was sending forth the void-magic, and it was all Thranduil could do to close his eyes and accept his death. But it never came.

A high, keening wail tore through the sound of war, shaking the ground and making the air quiver. Every living being in the area froze at the sound, for the cry did not stop, but only seemed to scale higher in pitch until it was grating on the ears of every human, elf, dwarf and orc. Thranduil winced, covering his ears before he realized that could move again.

At the realization his hands dropped limply to the side and he stared at the fallen dragoness. She had leapt in front of the dark curse Sauron had meant for them. The dragon writhed on the ground as black goo began to ooze from her wounds, her nostrils, her ears, and most alarmingly, her eyes. Her right limb was limp, but her left clawed at her chest as if there was something eating her from the inside out.

And the screams.

The screams.

"Make it stop!" One of the warriors near Thranduil begged, covering his ears and squeezing his eyes shut, a young human boy that looked at once terrified and angry.

The whole valley could hear the howling of the tortured dragoness. A glance to the sky showed that the remaining dragons had stopped their terrorizing and now hovered just out of range, gazing intently at their fallen sister. Thranduil wondered what they felt.

But above the screams of the dragoness Thranduil could hear the laughter of Sauron as he walked away, leaving the dragon to die a slow and painful death.

Thranduil ducked away from the remaining elven soldiers, ignoring their protests as he raced to the dragon's side. He hesitated upon reaching her head, gazing down the length of the dragon's body to see a plethora of cuts and gashes, jagged wounds oozing with poisonous black substance. The dragoness was taking labored breaths, and with each exhale she coughed up blood and black toxin. All that remained of her right wing was skin and bone, looking skeletal without the leathery membrane stretched between the digits. The stump where her tail had once been left a lake of crimson in its place, staining the ground beneath her.

"Why?" Thranduil asked the dragoness.

She opened one large eye, the other swollen shut after being hit with Sauron's mace. Thranduil looked into the golden depths, the pupils a vertical slit like a feline. The pain in her expression was momentarily eased by a glint of amusement.

"Apologies…my dear… prince" the dragon rumbled, hacking up blood stained with black, the fluids dribbling down the side of her mouth. "I had hoped –" she coughed, her lungs rasping –"you would not… see this…"

Another seizure wracked her body, and Thranduil stared at the thrashing dragoness as an alarming realization dawned on him. He hesitated to ask, if only that he could deny the truth for a little longer.

"Lëo?" He breathed in horror.

They were interrupted as a powerful shockwave echoed throughout the valley. The forces of darkness froze, before the armies of Sauron suddenly turned and began running away. A cheer rose up at the far end of the valley and gradually made its way throughout the rest of the free armies. But Thranduil paid no heed and stared down at the fallen dragoness, his chest twisting and gut wrenching and for some reason, he felt like he was the one dying.

"Lëo…" His entire body shuddered as he fell to his knees, his burning eyes locked with her own great golden orb. "Please, don't…"

"Don't cry." Lëo crooned, her gravelly voice trilled. Her body continued to convulse from the black magical poison, but Thranduil could see that her body was tired, as the seizures became less frequent, more lethargic. "You'll ruin that pretty face."

The dragoness hacked up more blood and black ooze as she wheezed a laugh. Thranduil couldn't help a small smile at her teasing, even as more black toxin leaked from Lëo's mouth and ears, as well as the edges of her eyes, like poisonous tears.

"Don't leave me." Thranduil shamelessly begged, his voice rasping and hitching, tears catching on his eyelashes as he thought about the death of his mother, then his father, and now… her. "I don't want to be alone!"

Lëo hummed, and with her dragon's vocals it sounded like a rumble, yet it still held the chiming quality that her voice always did. "I am truly sorry –" she convulsed again, this time bile joined the mixture of blood and poison which dribbled slowly from her lips. " Thrahn…du..il…"

Her golden eye regarded him warmly, before closing slowly. The great body of the dragoness heaved and shuddered, before going still.

"Lëo?" For a moment Thranduil actually felt his heart stop. Then it was beating faster than ever before, thundering in his ears as he shot forward, placing his hands on the scaled cheek of the dragoness, trying to shake her awake.

"Lëo! Lëo please! LËO!"

A shadow loomed over them, and distantly Thranduil registered the cries of soldiers and the sound of bowstrings twanging. He closed his eyes for a moment, ignoring the commotion, before turning away to look up into the sky.

Another dragon hovered just out of bowshot from the men, golden eyes staring intently down at the dead dragon beneath his hands.

Thranduil stood, turning to his men. "Stand down! That is an order!"

The men stared at him as if he had gone mad – and perhaps he had – but reluctantly complied with his words. When the dragon saw that it was not in danger of being attacked, it circled slowly before landing softly next to the still form of Lëo. The dragon was a dark violet, nearly black if it weren't for the purple glint its scales gave off in the light.

The new dragon arced its neck gracefully as it studied Lëo's form. Then its large golden eyes turned upon the elven prince, studying his blood-encrusted armor and tear-streaked face.

"Why do you protect the body of my sister?" A deep female voice rumbled from within the violet dragon.

Thranduil met her golden gaze with weary eyes, heavy with loss and sadness. "Lëo… was my friend." He swallowed thickly. "My dear… dear friend."

The dragoness' eyes widened in surprise, though nothing else betrayed her bewilderment. Then they softened, regarding the young elf sadly. "Her full name was Lëonora." The dragoness snorted in sad fondness. "And she was always too kind for her own good."

Thranduil turned to look upon his friend in her true form, the greatest of beasts and most powerful of magic. Here too, she was beautiful, even despite the wounds which mangled her body. He could imagine the power of her wings, her stream-lined body faster than the winds. Her golden eyes full of intelligence and curiosity, sparking with sharp wit. And he knew, deep down, that there would never be another like her in the world again.

"Lëonora…" Thranduil whispered. Yes, the name fit her.

The violet dragoness gave a heavy sigh and ducked her head to scoop Lëo's body onto her shoulders. She shifted and shrugged a couple times to make sure that the body was balanced so that she could fly without dropping the dragon's body. Then the dragoness turned to regard the strange elfling that had befriended a dragon of all things.

"Where will you take her?" Thranduil asked softly.

"Somewhere far from here." The dragoness replied. "Men will desecrate the bodies of dragons for trophies or magical artifacts. It takes a great deal of effort to hide our own from such treasure hunters."

Thranduil grew angered at the thought of grave robbers tearing apart Lëo's body for her teeth and bones and scales. The violet dragon watched his emotions flash across his face with intrigue, once again surprised at the bond between a dragon and elf. Her long neck arced as she turned to grip one of Lëo's scales and tore it loose from the dragon's body.

Thranduil was interrupted from his thoughts when something was pushed into his hands. He stared at the lilac dragon scale in his hands, shimmering with pale iridescence as he tilted it in the light. His emotions were so haywire at this point that he wasn't sure whether it made him happy or sad.

"She would want you to have this." The violet dragon told him, her tone gentle despite her gruff attitude.

"Th-thank you." Thranduil muttered, still staring at the dragon scale to avoid looking at the limp body of Lëo, one eye swollen shut and the other half-open, no longer gold and staring at everything and nothing.

The violet dragoness hummed in response before he heard her giant wings snapping wide. Thranduil backed away as the dragoness began beating the air with powerful strokes, rising slowly into the air before wheeling around and flying east.

Thranduil watched them until they were but a speck in the distance, clutching the dragon scale to his chest. Then he glanced down at the scale, tilting it so that the sunlight caused it to shimmer like a pastel rainbow, stroking the surprisingly soft surface with his bloodied fingertips. His world felt hollow now, his chest empty. The echoes of her dying breath haunted his ears, rattling and gasping for air. And he had been helpless to comfort her. Lëo was gone, his Ada was gone… and how many elven soldiers had they lost in this war? Too many to count. Their deaths weighed heavily upon his mind, and Thranduil could only ache with their absence.

"Lord Thranduil!" An elven soldier approached their silent lord warily. "Those dragons… were you harmed?"

Thranduil took a deep breath and straightened himself, slipping the dragon scale into his breastplate so that it lay against his heart. Then he turned to face the elven messenger, carefully keeping his face stoic despite the tear tracks which stained his cheeks.

"I am fine." He assured his soldier. "Gather my father's body, as well as that of any other elf you can find. We will take them back to the elven cities for burial."

The elf bowed. "Yes, my king."

Thranduil froze as the elf hurried away and began ordering the rest of the elven warriors to start retrieving the bodies of their fallen brethren.

His father was dead.

He would be king, now.

He glanced over to where Oropher's body was being placed in a cart and covered with a silken sheet.

"I'm not ready for this, Ada." Thranduil whispered, staring at the still body.

But Fate had never been a kind mistress.

Soooo…. I've changed my mind. Well, I changed my mind about halfway through this story, but now I will be confirming it to you all. Many of you readers have been asking for a romance between Thranduil and Leo… and so it shall be!

When I first wrote Thranduil and Leo's story, I never intended them to be romantic interests, just really close friends. It would not have made sense for two very dutiful and logic-driven people to fall in love in the middle of a war. They would have had too much sense to let their emotions run wild like that. But after merging the background story with To Face a Dragon, I've realized that the emotional bond between them could change dramatically after a few thousand years apart and plenty of unresolved tension between them.

The day of reckoning is near!

~Lilithia