Thranduil's Crown Novels & Stories

The students in the dormitories cried out, their voices a mix of fear and relief, and I heard Theron shouting for them to run, to leave, to not look back. I stood over Lorna, the crown in my hands, its thorns cutting my palms. Blood dripped down my wrists, mixing with the black liquid that still clung to the thorns. The gold beneath my skin surged, and the crown began to glow—not black, not dark, but gold. Pure, bright, living gold. The king screamed. His voice echoed in my mind, in the bond, in the shadow itself. And then he was gone. The crown went still.

my mother whispered again, and the crown above me answered with a trembling silver note. I looked at the shadow wearing Maelor’s face, then at Ashina’s stomach, where the real child had moved beneath terror and command. “How?” I asked, because every answer in this field seemed to demand blood from women who had already bled too much. Rudina touched the crown with one fading hand, and the silver branches lowered toward me like something ashamed of its own hunger. “The crown can cut false naming from living blood,” she said, her voice thinning beneath the throne’s pull.

Wendy lowered her head, fingers twisting the hem of her dress, as if she'd been wrestling with the words for a long time before finally letting them out. "I've been working on the crown for the wedding day. It's made from Moon Goddess thorns—according to the old tradition, the final step requires shaping the thorn tips by hand in ice water, to show the bride's devotion to the Moon Goddess." She glanced at me, then quickly looked away. "Traditionally, this task was given to lower-ranking wolves. I know Clara hasn't been well, but… no one's performed this ritual in a long time, and I can't find anyone else…"

Colton is led out of the dungeon; his skin looks a little sallow from the lack of sunshine these past few weeks, but he is no less arrogant as he walks scowling at everyone. When his gaze meets ours, fury morphs his features at seeing the crown upon lance’s head and a small tiara on mine. I was told I needed a token until my crown was ready for my coronation. Naturally, I accepted, not wanting to cause trouble and it is a beautiful piece of jewellery that is so light I can forget I’m wearing it. “That crown is mine by birthright! You should be bowing to me!” His yelling doesn’t stir anyone to act in his favour and I am secretly pleased as Lance, and I wouldn’t want to have to deal with a rev

“She knew Valak would never give it to you, and in her eyes, you’re the only one deserving of it.” A small smile spreads across my face, sitting the crown on my forehead. The Nairn crown fits perfectly against my forehead, and it swirls into an intricate design downwards and rests between my brows. An amethyst crystal, sitting in the middle. Theia gasps, “wow.” I smile just as Henry announces, “w-we’re here.” I don’t think he meant to stutter, but I can feel the tension bleeding of wolves, so thick I could cut it with a knife, and the Qusayr makes their presence known.

After what felt like an eternity of training, it was finally time for the champions to showcase what they have learned from the five Sages to the packs. The arena was a massive circle, it was surrounded by high stone walls with rows of seats stacked in layers, where the crowd watched eagerly. Roxanne and the other champions stood in a line, all dressed in a dark-gray tunic that reached their mid-thigh, with leather straps across their shoulders and waists. Their slim pants tucked into knee-high boots and leather bracers on their wrists, and their hair was pulled back tightly, with arrows on their back and their bow at their side.

All the guard bowed when they knew I was there and they repeated the gesture when Andras stood from the throne. He walked to me, two guards following him behind like the ones with me. When we were close enough, he dropped the crown from his head and placed it on the glass floor, following customs. As long as I was still the king, he had to follow them. I was expected to pick the crown and wear it. It was a black crown with different rare jewels on it. It had long spiky thorns of poison rising from it. It was perfect-fit, meaning it could resize itself to the perfect size on the user's head.

Almost frighteningly beautiful. My silver-white hair had been swept into a high, elegant ponytail, soft tendrils left loose to frame my face. The gown… gods, the gown. Liquid gold silk poured over my body like molten sunlight, embroidered with delicate black thorns and crimson roses that caught the hellfire light with every breath. The train was impossibly long—ten maids had to carry it when I stood, arranging it in perfect waves behind me. And the crown. Not the full Luna circlet—not yet—but a breathtaking piece all the same: black gold filigree shaped like intertwined thorns and crescent moons, studded with blood-red rubies that glowed faintly under the torches.

The room beyond was breathtaking. Silver pillars stretched toward the ceiling. Ancient banners hung untouched despite the passage of time. Moon symbols covered every wall. At the center of the chamber stood a throne. And resting upon that throne... Was a silver crown. The Moon Crown. Silence filled the room. The Crown glowed softly. Ariana couldn't look away...Neither could anyone else. Even Kael seemed stunned. Lucien slowly dropped to one knee. The gesture shocked everyone. "The Crown of House Lunareth."

He turned, presenting two identical crowns carved from a seamless blend of volcanic obsidian and pure mainland silver. Vance lifted the first crown, placing it lightly upon Natalia's silver-white braids. He then lifted the second, placing it upon Dmitry's brow. The moment the twin crowns settled, Natalia and Dmitry reached out, locking their fingers together, their palms pressing the silver scars of their blood-tie firmly against one another. A violent, breathtaking shockwave of raw, golden light exploded from the balcony.