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Summary
His son lived, but that made little difference.
He lost him.
He lost his laughter, his presence, his trust.And when loneliness began to crumble his image, the night became his refuge.
A night in which he indulged in too much wine, too many memories, too much despair.But one night shattered everything.
The night in which Thranduil—weary of suffering and wine—allowed himself to fall into another's arms.Little did he know that this single moment of weakness would become the beginning of something far worse than loneliness.
That a shadow he had never seen before would begin to grow in the darkness of his palace.Bookmarked by AnaMorg
28 Nov 2025
