Thranduil's Crown Novels & Stories

"A bit rushed, perhaps." Sniffing back her tears, Mory chuckled out loud. "Just a little bit." Opening his hand in front of them, Daniel held two gold bands with the old Realm language of the binding spell engraved on them. A shiver ran through Haldir's body as the memory of a long- forgotten trinket came back to his mind. It was a strange coincidence that he be presented this band when he had a similar one locked away for safe keeping. If Haldir knew Daniel as well as he thought he did, it was really no coincidence at all.

He had his black hood on to cover his face and red eyes, as the people might get suspicious. After waiting for almost half an hour, the High King finally finished, now walking towards the man holding the white pillow where the blue crown had rested. The Ice Crown of Glacia was made of Everfrost Stone, the most valuable mineral in the north, even more valuable than any diamond, as it had been formed for thousands of years in the glaciers, and it would never melt. The High King gently held the crown with both hands, then walked towards the back of Arth’s seat.

"That crappy orchard your brother bought. It’s got quite a bit of rosemary in it. Ha! Not only has that dump never made a single dime, we still have to pay a crew to maintain it every year." A thought flickered in my mind. I knew that place. The orchard sat on a ruined silver mine, its trees drawing on the soil and the breath of silver for years, gaining a power to ward off evil. The Haunts came with the wind, but silver tamed the wind. Those trees were worth far more than my mother and brother could ever imagine. If my infant spirits had wielded weapons made from that wood, they would have been unstoppable.

Randall replied, his voice steady despite the weight of the moment pressing on his shoulders. The High Monk nodded, and an attendant brought forth the golden crown on its Velvet cushion. Seeing this crown made my heart skip a beat. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, a circlet of gold inlaid with emeralds and diamonds, with a central spike shaped like the antlers of a stag. Once it was placed on his head, everything was going to change. The dynamics of our marriage and our responsibilities will keep growing bigger and bigger. “With this crown,” the Monk said, holding it high for all to see, “I name you King Randall of Halewood.”

I stop in front of it, admiring its grandeur, its power, it's meaning. “From this throne, the world will bow before me,” I declare with pride. I ascend the steps slowly, savoring the moment. As I sit on the throne, I feel as though I belong to it, and it to me. The magic emanating from the stone, the strength, and the significance it holds, flows into me. Moments later, Fenrer approaches with the crown my brother was once crowned with—a magnificent golden crown adorned with rubies and sapphires, tall and imposing. At its center rests a rare jewel, the Moonstone.

It waited there, silent and claimless, an ancient burden cast aside. The Crown of Eldoria. Forged in the heart of dragonfire. Set with moonstone mined from the sacred caverns of the Frostpine Wilds. Passed from one ruler to another, generation after generation. Kings and queens had worn it, yes, but not as a symbol of glory. The Crown of Eldoria was a chain. A heavy, unyielding chain that demanded sacrifice and blood and obedience. Elara reached out, her fingers hovering above the twisted metal. She felt it hum faintly, an ancient pulse of power, a whisper demanding order, calling for submission.

" Instead of responding, Tj simply laughed before turning his attention back up front to where Duke Randal was approaching Haidan with a crown. I watched on as Haidan bowed, presenting her head to Duke Randal as he spoke about honor and glory. Once he placed the crown on Haidan's head, he waited as she stood up straight once more. Turning towards the crowd, she wore a serious expression as her eyes scanned the troves of lycans that were watching.

Never! He smiled with a proud glint in his eye as she lifted her head. One of the attendants offered a rough-looking black circular crown, the top spike in the center adorned with a massive black gemstone. Around the circlet's base are four long horn-like thorns. Nothing about the crown screamed glamor; everything about it roared status and dominance.

Her crown fell to the marble floor with a clear clang, there seems also to be a clanging sound of someone's sword falling to the ground outside the palace gates. The deep red gem on the crown shattered and scattered. Warm blood down the steps on the cold ground, slowly spreading, reminiscent of the shallow creek she used to play in barefoot as a child. This golden hall of Avalon became her grave, swallowing her bones, burying her life. Outside, the sun shone on the snow, melting it bit by bit…

He made no effort to wipe them away. Ravyn offered his hand. Caelian took it and rose. The circlet was brought forward on a dark cushion by the master of ceremonies. It was lighter than the old state crowns, white gold worked in clean lines, set with dark stones that caught the candlelight without flashing. Ravyn took it himself. He did not make Caelian kneel. He simply lifted the circlet and set it on Caelian’s dark hair with a care that silenced the nearest rows all over again. When his hands fell away, the Queen of Eldoria stood beside the King under the full weight of the hall’s attention, eyes still wet, the new metal cool against his brow.