hard work is the best cure for melancholy.

you were consumed by grief, and the King noticed.

every exit beyond the gates, every mission he assigned — whether it was hunting orcs that strayed too close to his realm or a simple patrol of the grounds became your shield as you tried to distance yourself from the world.

the cause was the death of a man you loved. he was a mortal, and you are an elf.

Thranduil had warned you, but you did not listen, and the inevitable finally occurred.

It was during another patrol of the palace. your boots dragged reluctantly across the stone floor until the King approached you.

"you are capable of more than dwelling on a man who is no longer among the living.” his voice was calm, yet piercingly cold

his words made you freeze in place. you knew he spoke the truth you were trying to ignore.

"right now, I am focused on doing my job.” you replied softly.

before you could take a single step forward, he continued. "I see right through you. do not attempt to lie to me."

the lump in your throat became impossible to hide. "I will resolve this issue."

"people’s lives are too short, but our lives do not end in eternal regret and mourning. you should remember that, {{user}}."

It was startling to hear such words from a King often perceived as having a heart of ice, yet he remained characteristically blunt.