Thranduil's Crown Novels & Stories

Katherine liked this throne very much. In front of the podium waited King William with Aston to his right and Liliane to his left. The younger generation carried velvet cushions with two sparkling crowns. The one Aston carried was a dark, roughly cut cliff of obsidian with cracks of glittering blue sapphire, while Liliane showcased a filigree glass crown with diamonds, and white fur softening the rim. Both were beautiful and imposing in their own right. When Nathaniel and Katherine reached the end of the carpet, the music subsided, and the King of the Icelands raised his voice one last time. "We are coming together today to start a new era of peace..."

I said. I looked out the window at the North. The forests were still there. The mountains were still there. The scars of the war would take years to heal, and the High Council would eventually send more men. But as I looked at my husband and our son, I knew the shadows didn't stand a chance. The Crown of the North was heavy, and it was made of thorns and silver. But we were the ones who wore it. "What's his name?" Killian asked, his eyes never leaving the boy.

The forge ignited a gold flame rising high. John cried out as the mark on his chest pulsed violently. His knees buckled. Sarah grabbed his hand, grounding him. The crown sank into the molten pool and began to change. From the forge rose something new. Dark, elegant. The metal wove together like light and shadow, the true crown, the way it was meant to be. Callen’s voice was barely a whisper. “Wear it.” John reached for the crown, he paused, looked at Sarah, she nodded once, eyes glassy but proud.

Queen Thalia said, she is still holding her golden trident with her left hand, with a golden crown on her head, her white long hair fallen between her shoulders and is covering her bosom. "I'm sure my father is smiling at you where ever he is, for your kind gesture towards me, I really enjoyed my stay here and do hope to see you guys again," Darrell said. "That's not a problem Darrell, you should be on your way now, Monaserus needs you," Pontius said and gave Darrell a hug. Pontius had a golden crown on his head. He also wore a golden bracelet on his upper right arm. They broke from the hug and Darrell returned a warm smile to Pontius and walks to queen Thalia.

THUMP. THUMP. Auren's silver mark glowed. The First Father grabbed the Creator's arm. “We need to leave.” She shook her head. “There is nowhere to go.” The crown descended. Kael raised his weapon. Auren stepped forward. “Daddy.” “Stay behind me.” “But—” “Please.” Auren stopped. Kael looked toward the crown. “If you came for a fight, then come.” The crown began changing. Its black surface turned silver. Then white.

They were the stewards of the land, entrusted with the welfare and prosperity of their people. As the ceremony reached its pinnacle, the crowns themselves were brought forth, symbols of authority and unity. Kendrick's crown was studded with precious gemstones, reflecting the strength of his rule, while the Faith's crown was adorned with delicate filigree, symbolizing her wisdom and grace. The king's crown was placed upon Kendrick's head with a regal solemnity, a weight that he accepted with a sense of duty and honor. The queen's crown followed, its gentle placement a reminder of the delicate balance she would bring to the kingdom.

Thick brown wings with dangerous looking talons bordering it flapped behind him, causing his brown hair to fly about his face. "'Tis nigh impossible, my liege. The crown never moves until the Lord is dead. 'Tis the way of things." Lord Vas let go of my hand and stroked his bare chin with it. "Aye Ferrin. So we thought, until this morn. Allow me to show you."He said and snapped his fingers. The sound of metal clashing against glass filled the air and i craned my neck in the direction of it. I sucked in breath sharply as did everyone else around me. A transparent rectangular box made of glass was being carried in by a man who seemed to have a problem with it, since it was moving. Not

In his hands, he held a crown. Not gold. Not bone. But dust. Crumbling. Ancient. And filled with power that shouldn’t exist anymore. Liora’s heart stuttered. Because she knew that crown. Not from dreams. But from the forbidden vaults beneath the Sanctuary. It was the Crown of Dust, forged from the ashes of failed gods. Worn only once before, by a king who tried to rewrite death itself. That king’s name? Valen Thorne. And he had died. A thousand years ago. But now, He stood on her land. Alive. Wearing that cursed crown. “Impossible,” Myra whispered.

he bows, not looking me in the eye. Pulling the small diadem from my braids, I hand it to him. He nods, understanding what he needs to do. If the Prince were to ask to see Kora's vault and noticed that her mate's crown was missing, he'd ask too many questions. Dressed as a servant, I open the door to the dreamer's suite where Thalan and Xane are mixing up some more dream paste. The dreamers look peaceful, their faces calm, and their breath even. I hate to disturb them, but we have no choice.

the grand duke reassured Elen, taking her hand and fastening the necklace around her neck. Elen examined the necklace carefully. The pendant, in the shape of a teardrop, was made of high-quality diamond, and she could feel the power emanating from it. It was simple yet elegant, and the weight of the pendant brought her a sense of comfort as she grasped it, finding relief in the protection it seemed to promise. "Thank you, Grand Duke. This means a lot to me," Elen expressed her gratitude, her voice filled with relief as she felt the comforting weight of the necklace.