Thranduil's Crown Novels & Stories

Just as everyone was amazed by Caspian's encounter, something else happened in the Crown Prince's mansion. The Crown Prince's face darkened, and cracks appeared on his thumb ring. One had to understand that the jade thumb ring the Crown Prince wore wasn't an ordinary item, but rather a powerful magical treasures. It could easily block a Supreme Master Realm attack, but right now, it was crushed until there were traces of cracks. This showed how angry the Crown Prince was!

“This marks you as mine. Anyone who attempts to hurt you will answer to me. It will also serve as protection for your pups.” I glance to Devin and gasp when I see a small blue crescent between his brows. It has the opening of the crescent facing upwards towards his hairline and a small band of stars and full moons spread to both sides of his forehead. It looks almost like a circlet diadem, like the one that Galadriel wears in the Lord of the Rings. Ok, my dad was a big fantasy buff. I know these things whether I want to or not. Anyway, the diadem shimmers and gleams in the moonlight. I can tell from the expression on Devin’s face that I have one as well.

“Well technically your mothers but it would have been handed down to you” “You are seriously expecting me to where a crown” He laughs “I am not expecting you to do anything, I have learnt never to expect anything from you” “What is that supposed to mean?” “Lets just say you can make up your own mind” A crown, the idea seemed so ridiculous and something out of a fantasy story. Daryl leaves and reappears with a golden crown set with large amber gems just like my eyes whilst a pattern of points sit on the top, it looked dainty and sturdy at the same time, with an incredible design woven through. It was magnificent.

*“Find the crown.” A glint catches my eye—a circlet of obsidian and starlight, hidden in the shadows. I grab it. The ground shakes. --- **Ryland’s Choice** The pack’s howls turn panicked. I sprint toward the tomb, Silas’s energy spiking like a wildfire. He stands at the entrance, the crown clenched in his fist. “I know how to save her!” “Silas, *no*—” He slams the crown onto his head.

They could smile at me all they wanted, and I would simply smile back. "Bring my niece here," Uisdean called from his gigantic throne. The throne was carved from obsidian and polished to look like glass. Uisdean sat in it casually; one arm draped over the table in front of him while he sipped from a goblet of wine. At least, I hoped it was wine. The wall behind him was covered in black, thorny, thick vines and hanging from them was a banner with a device embroidered on it, just like the one in the Twilight Castle. Except this device had a silver moon instead of a star and its background was completely black.

But when they stepped away and I turned to face the tall mirror, I stopped recognizing myself. I looked like someone who belonged. Not to their world instead of mine. To both. Exactly as the dress said. "The headpiece," Brinla said, disappearing briefly and returning with a velvet-lined box. Inside, nestled carefully, was a crown of sorts — though crown wasn't quite the right word. It was wrought gold, a circlet from which thin tendrils extended upward and outward in an organic sprawl of vines. Moon-shaped pieces of pale amber caught between the branches. At the front, centered perfectly, the Blackthorn sigil sat.

"I bestow upon you this Queen's Crown, affirming your honor. You are the chosen future queen, destined to wed the prince." Elder William lifted the crown from the tray, an exquisite masterpiece crafted from the purest silver, adorned with the whitest gemstones, and embellished with radiant diamonds and moonstones. At its pinnacle, a moonlit blue sapphire shimmered, encircled by twelve dazzling diamond stars. Silver laurel leaves elegantly entwined the crown's base, reminiscent of waves cradling luminous stars. Such a crown surpasses our mortal craftsmanship; only the Moon Goddess could conceive such celestial beauty.

And then—the passage widened. Into a chamber of stone that pulsed with forgotten energy. At its center: a pedestal. And on it, a crown of silver bone, wrapped in roots and embedded with a black crystal that shimmered like a frozen scream. Theron stepped closer. Elira hissed, “Don’t touch it.” “I’m not,” he said. “It’s touching me.” --- The voice boomed now—not outside, but within his skull. > You are the shadow-bearer. The child of the star-sundered line. Take the crown. Take your name.

Mason’s jaw tightened as he regarded his sister. “I did,” she responded, strolling in. “But I’m back. Obviously.” “And Kaden?” She stiffened, her eyes darkening. “What about him?” Mason didn’t press it. No one did. My eyes lingered on the little girl with her. She had pale blonde hair and eyes so white, they rivaled mine. I looked away. “The Crown of Thorns was not forged as a gift,” I went on, ignoring the pressure against my forehead. “It was wrought from divine wrath and bound with the breath of the goddess herself.

The majority had chosen, placing the crowns on our heads and giving us an incredible weight of responsibilities… I drew a deep breath as I took one final glance in the mirror. I was wearing a long white dress with golden threads. A white velvet cloak, trimmed with fur, rested on my shoulders. I had a necklace with a tear-shaped pearl and matching earrings, but the heaviest piece of jewelry rested on my head. My crown resembled tangled golden and silver thorns with little buds where pearls bloomed. A similar crown was made for Kaan, but his was made of silver and black steel, with black pearls instead of white.