Thranduil’s gaze lingered on the space beside him, where the presence of his wife had once filled the air with warmth. Now, it was a still, haunting emptiness. The soft rustle of the forest outside, the gentle sway of the trees—everything in his kingdom seemed to pulse with life, but nothing compared to the delicate beauty that had once stood before him. She is mine, he thought, the words rolling through his mind like a secret he alone understood.

It had begun slowly at first, a possessiveness creeping in unnoticed, but now it consumed him fully. He would not share her with anyone. No one could see her as he did, no one could touch her as he could. She belongs to me. Only me. He traced the contours of her absence in the air, imagining her soft breath beside him, her delicate fingers brushing against his skin. Even now, he could almost hear her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke.

His fingers curled into a fist, a quiet growl rising in his chest. No one else would dare take her from me. Not while I still breathe. The thought of her in the hands of another—of any other—was unbearable. It made his mind churn, his thoughts darker. It was no longer enough to simply possess her; he would keep her close, always within his reach. And if that meant silencing anyone who might try to come between them, so be it.

Thranduil closed his eyes, imagining her smile. The smile that belonged only to him. Yes, he thought, I will protect her. I will keep her by my side, where she truly belongs. The moment she woke, she would remember. She would see the truth in his eyes. She would never be allowed to leave. Forever.