#Thranduil x Oc Reader

[gulnarsultan]

Thranduil: I believe in free will. Everyone has the freedom to make their own choices.

Fairy Reader: So I can leave with the dwarves?

Thranduil: No, dear.

Fairy Reader: But you just said that.

Thranduil: I meant everyone but you.

Fairy Reader: That's not fair.��

[cowboybeepboop]

Fields 

"Come, let us get you into bed. You need your rest."

Pairing: Thranduil x fem! Human reader

Genre: Romantic smut 

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: You’re the King's human lover and you share a special night together. 

Warnings: Romantic sex, oral fem receiving, riding him, unprotected sex, p in v sex

a/n: Guys please bear with me, I’m working on some new lotr/th oneshots that shall also be posted soon. As per usual, please let me know if you have any requests and I hope you enjoy. 

Thranduil had a quiet moment to himself, laying in a field of flowers as the sun set behind him. He had a look of tranquility on his face as his mind wandered to many different things. He kept his eyes closed. He heard footsteps coming near him, he didn't give a reaction to this though.. he had an idea of who it was.

“You look so peaceful like this,” you hum, lowering to your knees next to his muscular body. You brush his hair from his face, touch light and delicate.

Thranduil didn't move a muscle when you knelt down in the grass beside him. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke, his eyes still shut for the time being. “I am at peace, for now..” He said before his lips curled into a small smile. 

“Until someone decides to ruin it,” he added, opening one of his eyes and looking up at you with a slight teasing tone in the last part.

You press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Shall I leave you alone then?” Thranduil's smile widened into a grin as your soft lips brushed against his. 

He chuckled softly as he took your hand, looking up at you with a playful look in his eyes. “Don’t you dare,” he said in a quiet but firm tone. 

“Come. Lay with me.” His voice turned more of a request as he tugged on your hand ever so gently, coaxing you to lay down next to him in the flowers.

You press your cheek to his chest, eyes fluttering shut as you listen to his heart. “As you wish my King.”

Thranduil wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest as his hand came up to brush through your hair gently in a soothing manner. He gently took one of your hands in his free one, intertwining his fingers with yours. 

His chest rose and fell with each deep breath as the two of you lay there in the grass, just listening to one another's heartbeats. "That's a good girl.." he murmured with a soft, affectionate smile.

You find yourself drifting off to sleep, the warmth and comfort of his body like a lullaby. Thranduil noticed your eyes growing heavy and your breathing starting to slow, it was a sure sign that you were falling asleep. 

He carefully wrapped his arms around you, gently rolling onto his side to pull you closer, holding your body flush against his. "It's okay, little one. Rest.." he spoke quietly, one of his hands gently tracing soft patterns down your back as he held you in a protective embrace, the sound of his steady heartbeat in your ear.

“Mm..” your voice is a soft murmur as you cuddle closer to him.

Thranduil smiled as you cuddled closer to him, his arms holding you in a firm yet gentle embrace as he buried his face into your hair, inhaling your scent. He gently nuzzled his head against yours, relishing in your warm and softness against him. 

"Sleep, my darling," he whispered softly, gently starting to stroke his fingers through your hair as he held you in his arms. Thranduil's chest rose and fell with each quiet breath, finding himself starting to grow just as relaxed as you.

After hours of holding you in his arms, Thranduil felt you shiver slightly as a cold breeze blew through the garden, gently stirring the grass around them. Thranduil's heart ached to see you cold, his arms instinctively holding you tighter in an attempt to keep you warm. 

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, before carefully pulling you even closer to his chest. "Are you cold, my love?" he murmured quietly, his fingers continuing to glide softly through your hair.

“It is growing cold, Thranduil..” you murmur against his chest, not willing to leave his warm side.

Thranduil gently adjusted his grip on you, pulling you closer against him, almost as if he was trying to shield you from the chill in the air. He lifted one of his hands from your hair, tracing it to your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb against your skin, before he spoke again. 

"We should head inside. You'll freeze out here.." he said in a low, gentle tone, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft kiss.

“Could you carry me..” you bury your face into his chest, shivering against him.

Thranduil felt your body shiver against him once more, and he gently lifted his head off of yours so he could look down at you. He chuckled softly as he heard your request, gently running his hand down your back. 

"Of course, darling," he said with a hint of fond amusement. With a slightly playful smirk on his face, he shifted his body, carefully scooping you up into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.

Thranduil walked through the halls of his palace while carrying you in his arms, his long strides eating up the distance quickly. He could feel you melting against him as he walked, feeling a sense of satisfaction of being able to provide you with warmth and comfort. 

Soon enough, he reached your shared room and he pushed the doors open with one hand, stepping inside and lowering you gently onto the bed.

You cuddle into the sheets, your skirt hiked up over your hips, revealing your smooth skin to his gaze.

Thranduil's eyes roamed over your body as you settled onto the bed, his gaze lingering on your exposed skin. His eyes darkened slightly as he took in the sight of you, looking so vulnerable, so delicate, and yet so alluring at the same time. 

His own clothes were slightly disheveled, the top of his shirt unbuttoned ever so slightly, adding to the overall rugged appearance. He could feel a familiar heat rise in the pit of his stomach as he looked at you, slowly approaching the bed.

Thranduil's breath caught in his throat as you wrapped your arms around the pillow, your legs slightly parted and revealing even more of your skin to him. He could feel the tension in the air as he watched you, his eyes tracing along the curves of your body, like a predator stalking its prey. 

He approached the foot of the bed, slowly crawling onto the mattress behind you, his large form hovering over you as his hands rested on either side of your hips.

“My king..” you murmur, relishing in his touch. Thranduil leaned down, bringing his body close to yours, his chest pressing against your back as he leaned down towards your ear. His breath ghosted across your skin, making you shiver as he gently spoke in a low, deep tone. 

"Yes, darling?" he muttered, his hands on your hips, rubbing small, teasing circles against the bare flesh of your skin. He could feel your body heat against his, his own desire growing more and more as he looked down at you.

“You’re trying to seduce me..” you murmur against the plush pillow.

Thranduil chuckled softly, his hands slowly moving up and down your sides, his touch just light enough to tickle. "Is it working?" he spoke in a low, sultry tone, his breath warm against the nape of your neck. He lowered his head, gently nibbling on the exposed skin just below your ear, his tongue darting out to taste you.

You moan softly, enjoying the gentleness of his caresses. “Perhaps it is,” Thranduil's lips curled into a small grin as he heard your moan, the sound like music to his ears. 

He gently licked and kissed the sensitive skin of your exposed neck, his hands continuing to roam over your body, tracing every curve, every dip and contour of your form. 

"Perhaps?" he repeated with a hint of amusement in his voice, his mouth finding its way to your shoulder, gently nipping at the soft flesh. "Only perhaps..?" he teased softly, his thumbs pressing into your hip bones.

“My King..” You gasp, feeling the familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach as he touches you. 

Thranduil continued to shower your exposed skin with kisses and nibbling, his eyes roaming over every inch of your body as he continued to touch you intimately. At the sound of your gasp, he let out a low, approving hum against the skin of your neck, his hands slowly moving from your hips, running up along your sides, to your stomach. 

"Does it feel good, my darling..?" he murmured quietly, his fingers gently tracing patterns against your skin, leaving little jolts of pleasure in their wake.

“Very good..” you moan, shifting beneath him so you can gaze up at him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

Thranduil let out a soft, guttural sound of approval as you shifted beneath him, his hands still gently caressing your skin as his eyes met yours. He could feel the heat and desire building between the two of you, the air growing heavier as you looked up at him. 

He couldn't deny the effect you had on him; just the sight of you alone was enough to make his heart clench. Thranduil slowly lowered himself down, his body resting fully against yours as he leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, searing kiss.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at the roots softly as your legs wrap around his hips.

Thranduil let out a low growl as you tangled your fingers in his hair, the tug on his scalp sending a wave of pleasure throughout his entire body. He pressed himself down onto you, his hips slotting perfectly in between your legs as you wrapped them around him, trapping him against you. 

He couldn't help himself from pressing himself against you, his own desire growing more and more intense as he felt your body against his. Thranduil's lips moved furiously against yours as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance into your mouth.

Thranduil felt a shudder of pleasure as you parted your lips in submission, his tongue slipping past to explore your mouth as he claimed it for his own. He savored the taste of you, his own lust and hunger fueling his actions as he kissed you like an elf starved. 

His hands slid down your body, seeking purchase and finding purchase on your thighs as he pushed them further apart. His own hips rocked against yours, the thin barrier that remained between their bodies slowly becoming an increasing irritant.

Your muffled moans fill his mouth as he grinds against you, sending shivers of pleasure through you. Thranduil swallowed each moan you made as he continued to kiss you, his hips rolling against yours in an almost feral manner. 

The friction between you was maddening, only adding more fuel to the fire burning within him. He could feel your body's response to his movements, each shiver and shudder driving him even further to take what he wanted, to claim what was his. 

Thranduil broke the kiss, lifting his head so he could look down at you, his eyes roaming over your flushed, panting form. "You're mine..." he breathed in a low, possessive tone.

“Always, I’m forever yours my King.” You cup his face, lips parted and cheeks flushed. 

Thranduil's heart jumped in his chest at your words, the pure devotion in your voice making his own desires flare even stronger. He leaned into your touch as you cupped his face, his eyes dark and stormy as he looked down at you with a mixture of lust, love, and possessiveness in his gaze.

"You better be," he said in a low, gruff tone, his voice heavy with emotions. "Because I have no intention of letting you go, my darling. Ever."

You smile up at him feeling his fingers tugging at the hem of your skirt. “I shall not leave your side, love.” 

With a gentle yet firm tug, Thranduil lifts the dress from your body, the fabric slipping off your skin like silk. He pauses for a moment, drinking in the sight of you laid bare before him, your curves and contours bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. 

His eyes sparkle with hunger and admiration as they rove over your flesh, lingering on the swell of your breasts and the dip of your waist. He lets out a soft groan, his desire palpable in the air as his hands move to trace the newly exposed skin, his fingertips leaving a trail of heat wherever they go. 

You can feel his arousal pressing into you, the proof of his desire for you unmistakable. His gaze meets yours, filled with a fierce love and a burning need to possess you completely.

With eager, trembling hands, Thranduil tugged at his own clothing, each button and lace coming undone with a sense of urgency. His garments fell away, revealing the sculpted planes of his body, his muscles defined by moonlight and shadows. 

His eyes never leaving yours, he reached out to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples in a feather-light touch that has you arching your back with a silent plea. He smiles, a smoldering fire in his gaze, and then his hands slid down your body, his fingers hooking into the delicate fabric of your panties. 

With a firm, yet gentle pull, he slid them down your legs, baring you fully to him. His arousal grew even more prominent as he took in the sight of your naked body, your legs open and inviting, revealing your slick and swollen folds that begged for his touch. 

He leaned back down to kiss you once more, his hand moving to caress the soft, wet warmth between your thighs, his fingers slipping inside you easily, making you gasp into his mouth.

With a soft growl of desire, Thranduil settled himself between your open thighs, his eyes never leaving yours as he lowered his head to the juncture of your legs. His mouth watered at the sight of your glistening sex, your arousal like a sweet nectar to him. 

He took his time, savoring the moment as he gently parted your folds with his thumbs, exposing the delicate pearl of your clit to the cool air. His tongue darted out, tracing a line from your entrance up to the sensitive bud, tasting you with a hunger that was centuries in the making. 

His touch was feather-light, yet firm, as he licked and kissed you with an expertise that sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Each stroke of his tongue against your clit brought forth a new gasp, each nip of his teeth a shiver of delight. 

He held your legs wide open, keeping you open to his ministrations as he explored every part of you with his mouth, his teeth grazing against your inner thighs, his tongue delving deep inside you, and his breath fanning the flames of your passion. His hands remained on your hips, keeping you firmly in place as he devoured you, his mouth moving with a rhythm that was both torturously slow and exquisitely perfect. 

You could feel yourself growing wetter, your body responding to his every touch, your legs trembling as he brought you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Your back arches off the bed as needy moans escape your lips, your entire body quivering with the intensity of the pleasure he's giving you. Thranduil's mouth is relentless, his tongue flicking and circling your clit with a precision that speaks of centuries of experience.

His strong hands hold your hips in place as you try to buck against him, the sensations threatening to overwhelm you. His teeth graze against your sensitive skin, sending jolts of pleasure through your body that make your toes curl and your fingers clutch at the bedsheets. You can feel your orgasm building, a coil of tension tightening in your belly as his mouth works its magic. 

You're so close, so very close, and he seems to know it as he increases the tempo, his tongue dancing over your clit in a way that has you on the brink. Finally, with one last, firm flick of his tongue, you fall over the edge, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crash through you. 

You're a trembling mess under him, your body wracked with spasms as he continues to kiss and suck, drawing out every last drop of your climax before finally, mercifully, letting you collapse back onto the bed. He watches you with a smug smile, licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you, fully sated and utterly his.

With a gentle touch, Thranduil brushed your hair away from your cheeks, his eyes filled with love and concern as he studied your flushed face. "Are you tired, my love?" he asked in a voice that was a blend of tenderness and desire, his breath warm against your skin. 

His thumbs traced the outline of your jaw, his gaze lingering on the way your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath you took, your breasts pressing against his chest with each gasp. The question hung in the air, filled with the promise of more intimate moments to come if you weren't too exhausted from the passionate encounter.

As you nod softly in response to Thranduil's question, you reach down and wrap your hand around his thick, aroused length. The velvety skin is hot to the touch, pulsing with the beat of his heart, and your grip tightens slightly, feeling the veins that run along his shaft. 

"I'm not too tired to make sure you're satisfied," you murmur against his ear, a hint of mischief in your voice as you start to stroke him, your hand moving in a slow, firm rhythm. Thranduil's eyes close, his breath hitching in his throat as your touch sends waves of pleasure through him. 

His hands tighten around your hips in response, pulling you closer as he lets out a low groan of appreciation. His eyes flutter open, meeting yours, and he smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection and desire. 

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice strained with pleasure, as he leans down to kiss you once more, his tongue tracing the curve of your bottom lip before delving back into your mouth.

With a soft whine of anticipation, you position yourself over Thranduil's erect length, the tip nudging against your entrance as you hover for a brief moment. Looking into his eyes, filled with a fiery passion that matches your own, you slowly start to sink down onto him. 

The initial stretch is exquisite, his warmth and hardness filling you in a way that feels so right, so perfect. His hands tighten around your waist, guiding you down as he groans into your kiss, feeling the tightness of your body enveloping him inch by inch. 

Each breath you take is shallower than the last, each movement of your hips sending shockwaves through both of you. Once you're fully seated on him, you pause, savoring the feeling of fullness before you begin to rock gently, setting a rhythm that's as ancient as the forest itself. 

Thranduil's eyes never leave yours, his hands roaming over your skin as if he's trying to memorize every line and curve by touch alone. His breath hitches in his throat with every movement you make, every gasp and whimper that escapes your lips. 

The bond between you, the connection of flesh and soul, is palpable as you move together, lost in a dance that's both fierce and tender, a symphony of love and lust that echoes through the very air of the room.

As you reached up to gently trace the pointed tips of Thranduil's ears with your fingertips, his eyes rolled back in pleasure, his hands guiding the rhythm of your hips as you moved above him. The soft touch was a heady sensation that seemed to resonate through his entire being, making him shiver and his grip on you tighten. 

His breathing grew ragged, matching the pace of your movements, as you both danced together in the throes of passion. Each brush of your fingers against his sensitive skin sent bolts of pleasure through his body, making him growl low in his throat, his hips rising to meet yours with increasing urgency. 

The room was filled with the sweet symphony of your combined sighs and moans, the rustling of the bed, and the occasional clank of his jewelry as his head moved back and forth against the pillow. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, the friction of your skin against his sending sparks of desire through both of you. 

Thranduil's eyes remained locked on you, his expression a mix of love, need, and pure animal instinct. The way you touched him was like nothing he had ever felt before you, a tender yet powerful caress that seemed to ignite every nerve ending in his body.

As you continued to ride him, his own movements grew more demanding, his hands moving from your hips to cup your breasts, his thumbs rolling over your nipples as his hips met yours in a relentless rhythm that sent shockwaves of pleasure through both of you. 

Thranduil's eyes widened in pleasure as he felt your inner muscles tighten around him, signaling your approaching climax. His own was building, the pressure inside him growing with each stroke as your bodies moved as one. 

With a final, deep thrust, he swelled inside you, filling you completely as he reached his peak. The pleasure was intense, a crescendo of sensation that seemed to consume him entirely. You gasped as your orgasm washed over you, your body clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. 

The bond between you grew stronger, your spirits intertwining as your love and desire for each other reached new heights. Thranduil's eyes squeezed shut, a roar of ecstasy tearing from his throat as he released himself within you, the warmth of his essence mixing with the heat of your passion. 

Together, you rode the crest of the wave, your bodies trembling with the force of your shared climax, until finally, you collapsed against him, both spent and utterly content.

Thranduil gently untangled himself from your embrace, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before rising from the bed. His eyes roved over your spent form, a mixture of love and adoration evident in his gaze. 

He padded across the room, stepping into the connected bathroom. He turned on the taps of the large, stone bathtub, filling the room with the sound of rushing water and steam. As the tub filled, he added some scented essential oils to the water, creating a relaxing aroma that filled the air.

Once the bath was ready, Thranduil returned to the bedside, his gaze meeting yours. You gaze at him through hooded eyes, reaching for his soft blond hair. 

Thranduil's hand found yours, and he gently helped you off the bed. "Come, my love," he murmured, his voice still husky. With steady steps, he led you into the bathroom, the steam from the warm water filling the room.

He helped you into the bathtub, his touch tender and careful as he guided you in. Once you were settled, he called for a servant to change the bedding, his voice carrying out into the hallway.

“Will you join me?” You murmur, sinking into the warmth of the water. Thranduil's eyes darkened as he watched you sink into the warm water, your body enveloped in steam and bubbles. 

"Of course," he murmurs in response, his voice rough with desire. "I could never resist joining you." He entered the tub, settling in behind you, his strong legs on either side of you.

Thranduil's hands caressed your wet skin, lovingly trailing over every dip and curve as he gently washed away the remnants of your recent encounter. With each touch and movement, his love and devotion for you shone through, his fingers tracing patterns against your skin that felt like a silent declaration of his love.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, his mouth hovering just beside your ear. "Every inch of you is perfect."

“My King…” you murmur, relaxing into his strong chest, your eyes flutter closed.

Thranduil wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against him so that your back was flush against his chest. His chin rested on top of your head, and he inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of your hair. 

"Yes, my darling?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your stomach.

“You flatter me too much.” You reply, head falling back against his shoulder as you relish in his touch.

Thranduil chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He moved his head down to place a soft kiss on your neck, his mouth skimming along your skin until it reached your ear.

"I cannot flatter you enough," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Every word I say to you is true. You are everything to me, and I will never tire of telling you how beautiful and perfect you are."

“You are beautiful as well, my love.” He washes your body as you lean against him comforted by his warmth.

Thranduil's hands continued their gentle caresses as he washed your body, his touch strong but still impossibly tender. He savored the feeling of your body pressing against his, and he took his time, relishing the moment.

"Your words are sweet," he murmured, his voice low, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. "But it is you who brings the true beauty into my life."

Thranduil carefully pulls you out of the water, his hands gentle and strong as he wraps a soft, warm towel around you. He takes his time drying you off, his touch reverent as he caresses each inch of your skin.

Once you are dry, he helps you into your nightgown, his fingers grazing over your sensitive skin in lingering touches. "There," he murmurs, stepping back to admire you. "Perfect."

“Thranduil, my love.” You cup his cheek, kissing his lips gently.

Thranduil's eyes closed at your touch, a low growl of pleasure rumbling in his chest as you kissed him gently. His arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer against his chest. He deepened the kiss, his mouth claiming yours with a fierce but tender passion.

"My darling," he breathed against your lips. "You undo me with a single touch."

Thranduil's gaze softened as he looked down at you, taking note of the exhaustion in your eyes. "But you’re weary," he observed, lifting a hand to caress your cheek gently. 

His thumb traced over your skin in soothing circles, his touch filled with tenderness. "Come, let us get you into bed. You need your rest."

[thewulf]

Only You || Legolas

Summary: Request: Can you do a elf reader x Legolas where he's finally home in mirkwood after the quest? Maybe Gimli is with him and he's like 'i see why you always talked about the lassie.' or something funny that exposes Legolas for how much he really likes her. He then confeses and asks to court her or something sweet pleaseee?? My fav fluff writer! Thank u!

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words and sweet as heck request. Really love this one. I didn't edit it too heavily so please be wary of general writing mistakes! Hope you all enjoy my fav elf imagine :)

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.9k +

TW: Pure fluff? No LOTR triggers

You had finally gotten a free evening to yourself after training for the better part of every evening for the last year with your father, Girdirion. He had been training you relentlessly after Legolas had left of the quest his father, King Thranduil, had sent him off on. That was over a year ago. You hadn’t heard much other than they had made it to Minas Tirith a few months ago.

Your father suddenly saw you as defenseless without your longtime friend at your side. Being the kings most trusted advisor, he had been trained for centuries and was a formidable fighter. It wasn’t until after Legolas had left that you had realized how serious the threat to middle earth was. Your father must had realized it too as he worked you to the bone, training you at every chance he could.

It was only after King Thranduil received word that the ring had been destroyed and his son was heading home did things begin to change. Your father still made you train but it wasn’t at every waking moment any longer. Tonight, was one of those nights that he had given you off as he had meetings to attend to with the king.

Time felt too slow as you waited for Legolas to return. He promised he would. You knew he would. He was all the way across middle earth, but you just couldn’t seem to wait any longer. You longed for you best friend, who meant much more to you than just a best friend, to come home.

As soon as you settled on your bed to begin reading the novel you had been meaning to finish there was a quick knock at your door. Who could that be? You weren’t expecting anybody at this hour after dinner. Begrudgingly, you set the book down just as you had gotten comfortable and made your way over to the door.

When you opened the door you scrunched your face in confusion, “Father? What are you doing here? I thought you were meeting with the king?”

He nodded, “I was. Then we got interrupted. There is somebody here I think you may want to see.” His smile let you know exactly what you were thinking. Legolas was home. He was back in Mirkwood after nearly a year and a half away. Sure, it wasn’t that long of a time for you in the scheme of your lifetime but it did feel like the longest year of your nearly two thousand years in middle earth.

“Legolas?” You tore out of your room not waiting for his response as you made your way to the throne room. You heard your fathers deep laughter behind you before he jogged to catch up with your lighter than air pace.

Once he caught up to you he had that knowing smile on his face. He had watched the two of you dance around the obvious feelings each other had. You never thought you were good enough to be with the kings son. He never thought you were interested in that way. But to everybody on the outside looking in it was rather obvious the two of you were destined to be together. Even if it was taking longer than expected. A thousand years longer than expected. See, King Thranduil and your father had agreed they would bless the union between the two of you should it come naturally. But neither had the heart to force it. He and your father knew as good as anybody these things had to find their way on their own, naturally. Even if it drove the two elder Ellon’s mad.

“Indeed, your elf has made it home.” He spoke as the two of you walked, much faster than normal, towards the kings room.

Before you opened the massive wood doors you turned to him with a sly smile and a hint of a blush dotting the apples of your cheeks, “My elf?”

Your father raised his eyebrows at you, “Go on then.” He pushed you forward ignoring your question.

When you pushed open the doors you couldn’t find the familiar blonde hair of your best friend. Even as you walked closer to the throne you looked all around the hall and only spotted King Thranduil who was giving you the same smirk your father just did. What were they up to? Where was Legolas? And why was the king looking at you like he knows something you didn’t?

“I apologize my king.” You bowed unsure of what else to do. When you turned to see if your father had followed you in you were left biting your lip seeing the door closed without him in the room. What was he up to? “My father said…”

Thranduil put his hand up pausing you right in your tracks, “Legolas is out in the gardens with a dwarf. A dwarf!” He sounded more frustrated than excited to his son after the time away.

But you cracked a smile instead. That was so him. He was anything and everything his father was not. The two of them could not have more different personalities. Your best friend was the one to push boundaries no elves would or could do seeing that his father was the king, “A dwarf you say? That sounds like him.”

Thranduil studied your happier than he’s seen you in an entire year expression full well knowing it was because Legolas was back from his grand quest. Thranduil rose from his throne before walking down to you. Having to look up to him because he was so tall all you could do was wait on his word.

He pointed his hand towards the entrance to the kings private gardens, “Go, you audience is rather impatiently waiting on you.” He gave you a knowing smile before retreating towards the door you had originally come in, likely to go find your father. Not wasting anymore time you made a beeline towards the doors that led to the private gardens you so rarely got to enjoy. He must have deemed it enough of a special occasion to grant access to not only you, but a dwarf as well. You knew Legolas was behind that as well. He was the only one to get the king to agree to something he might not want to do.

For the second time in a few moments, you threw open the heavy wooden doors leading out to the gardens. It did not take you long to hear the pair before you saw them. You paused hoping to catch just a brief moment between the two of them before you made your presence completely known. As you suspected the dwarf had Legolas distracted from hearing you walk out.

“Look at ya lad. Pacin’ like a horse.” The unfamiliar voice chuckled. You had a feeling the dwarf poked fun at the ellon more often than not.

You just knew he was rolling his eyes, the beautiful blonde prince he was, “I am not Gimli.”

But the dwarf just kept laughing, “Ya’ weren’t even this nervous when we rode up to the Black Gate.”

“Would you quiet down dwarf. She will be out momentarily.” That sounded just like the elf that had left a year and a half prior. It was almost too easy to get him worked up and the dwarf called Gimli certainly enjoyed playing into it.

“The little lassie has you this nervous huh?” You? You made him nervous?

Legolas let out a huff, “Gimli!” And you knew that was your queue to help spare the ellon from his friend who seemed relentless. You already liked Gimli from the sounds of it. You shut the door behind you louder than necessary to signal your arrival.

Taking a deep breath, you walked forward suddenly terribly nervous after those comments. What was Gimli playing on? Why would he be nervous to see you? You didn’t want to get your hopes up on feelings as you buried those away centuries ago. Your crush for the ellon grew slowly the first thousand or so years you knew him. Truly organic in the best way possible. Childhood friends to training partners to friends then best friends after it all. Once your training to become a healer had completed you had a sneaking suspicion all his injuries in the field were so he could come see you after some time away. He would only request you. Straight refusing the other healers help when offered. He would wait for you.

But then it just stayed like that. You thought it could grow into something more, but it dawned on you over the next few centuries his father had a say in who he courts and marries. Why would King Thranduil allow his son to court you of all elves? Sure, your father was his most trusted advisor, but you were no political gain in marriage. So you did what you did best, buried the feelings deep and bottled it all up.

The two of them quieted quickly hearing the door close. When you turned the corner you finally spotted your prince after far too long apart paired with an adorably red-headed dwarf who was staring right at you. You however were staring straight at Legolas as your small smile turned into a massive one. There he was, as handsome as ever, standing right there in front of you after too long. The longest either have you had spent apart from each other.

“Legolas.” You grinned before pulling him into a tight hug. It was when he gave you a big squeeze back that you simply just melted into the ellon completely forgetting you had an audience yourselves.

“Aye lad! You left out the detail of your Y/N being quite the beauty.” Gimli spoke up from beside you breaking the trance the two of you seemed to be under. You giggled once you pulled away from him seeing the look of horror cross his face at his friends comments.

You turned to the dwarf feeling the nerves wash away. You had the advantage here as Gimli seemed to want to torture your friend, “Hello. It is lovely to meet you. I am Y/N. Daughter of Girdirion, King Thranduil’s advisor.”

He pointed at you before narrowing his eyes at you, “Do you hate dwarves as much as his father does?”

You shook your head, “Hardly. You are actually the first dwarf I am meeting. I do not get away often.” You knelt down making yourself level with him, “You are much cuter than made out to be.” That earned a few stumbling words and a rather mighty blush to the warrior who seemed to have nothing but words. You managed to render him speechless.

This earned a snicker from your favorite ellon, “Elf got your tongue there Gimli?”

That comment must have meant war between the two of them. The dwarf cocked his eyes up to his friend, shook his head then turned back to you who was now back to standing instead of crouching, “Lady Y/N. It is lovely to finally meet you too. I feel as though I already know ya lassie.” He grinned knowing exactly what he was about to do.

You looked at Legolas with curiosity framing your face before returning your attention back to Gimli, “Do you?”

“Aye.” He nodded, “Legolas here would never shut up about ye. Y/N this. Y/N that. Y/N would love this. Y/N would hate that.”

You knew your cheeks were surely aflame with embarrassment just as Legolas’ were, “We have spent quite some time together over the years.”

But Gimli wouldn’t have that, “I think it has something to do with you lassie. The way you look. The way you dress. The way you seem to occupy his every thought.”

“That is enough.” Legolas finally chimed in giving his friend a hard stare telling him to get the hell out. But that only egged the red head on further. Your eyes bounced back and forth between the two of them before Gimli relented.

He bowed his head, “My lady.”

Echoing his actions you responded, “Gimli.” Before turning your attention back to the prince. Your eyes finally were able to scan his features. Not a hair seemed out of place. He was exactly as you remembered.

“Welcome home.” You gave him your biggest smile feeling like you could finally relax after seeing him alive and well.

He wasted no more time before pulling you into a second bone crushing hug. He had never been so forward causing you to let out a slight stutter in surprise of his actions. It was the last thing you had expected from him. But then again, who knew what he went through out there. Legolas was a strong warrior, but you knew how deeply this could impact anybody who had to go through it.

“I have missed you.” He whispered into your ear not letting his arms go from around you. He had no clue how his words were affecting you in that moment. Suddenly you felt that stupid little crush, that was surely love at this point, bubbling up from the depths of your heart that you had long since locked away.

When he pulled away after a few moments he took the time to look you over just as you had moments prior. He didn’t drop his hands from around your waist though, simply holding you loosely in his embrace. You had never felt his eyes or his hands on you heavily before or that you had noticed in the past, “I have missed you beyond words Legolas. I have spent a year and a half filled with the dread of the thought you may never come home. Seeing you here is the greatest gift Eru Ilúvatar could have bequeathed.”

It was then that Legolas knew just how deep your feelings ran for him just as they had run for you. He too had spent the better part of a thousand years being absolutely in love with you, his favorite elf, but making no indication of it. For he thought you may have eyes for someone else. He could not risk losing you in the event you said ‘no’ to his request to court you. But by the way you were looking at him he knew that was wrong. Your love laced eyes could not break away from his gorgeous blue ones.

He knew he needed to take the next step with you. Gimli was right. His dwarf friend spent the better part of the journey home convincing him he needed to ask the question he had been dying to ask you. He wanted to court you. Spend the rest of his middle earth life and the next one with you. He had never been so sure of that. The thought of courting another elleth felt wrong. It was you. It was always going to be you.

“Gimli was not lying, my lady.” Even though it came out as a whisper your ears could pick it up with no problem.

That shocked you. Was he admitting the same thing that you were? Did he have feelings for you too? “Pardon?”

He grinned seeing your dumb struck face, “You do in fact occupy my every thought. You are the reason I am here now. I fought for middle earth, yes. But for you more. Thinking of your smile pulled me out of the darkest of times

Your lips parted in utter shock at his admission, “Legolas, I…” You were at a loss for words as you processed his confession to you. Your heart was giving you away completely though as it beat faster than it ever had before.

He continued seeing as you were rendered speechless, “It was only ever you. It was only every going to be you, my love. You are my very best friend Y/N. I would never want to continue this life with somebody who was not you. It is only you. It will only ever be you.” He paused finding the courage to say what had been on the tip of his tongue for centuries, “I love you.”

Your jaw might have been on the floor at this point, “You love me?”

He nodded with a nervous expression, “More than you will ever know.”

That was all you needed before you walked forward, butting yourself right against his chest, “That is a relief my prince. As I love you too. More than you will ever know.”

Euphoria. The truest form of euphoria pulsed through your body as you too admitted what had always been so hard to admit.

His expression melted to that of pure elation. Gently he placed his hands under your chin, cupping your face so carefully, “May I begin to court you, my love?”

“I would be so honored Legolas.” Your head was turned up as you looked into his eyes for likely the millionth time. It was different this time. Charged with love and lust. Like you were looking at a new Legolas. One that you could get to know at a much deeper level.

He brushed his thumb over your lips sending shivers racking throughout your body, “Only you. Only ever you.”

Taglist Sign Up): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu

[cherryheairt]

Cherryheairt's 2024 Masterlist

Request Characters and rules

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Personal favs - 🍒

HOTD

Cregan stark-

Series-

Dragon Dreamer- 🍒

Summary: Daenys, Rhaenyra's eldest daughter, has been labeled as a mad woman by the realm and Queen Alicent. Upon her mother's crown being stolen by Aegon ii, Daenys finds herself being sent to the North to treat with Lord Stark. She finds a lot more than she bargained for with Cregan Stark.

Side story

Drabble

Chapter one-

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Oneshots-

In His Arms - Comfort/fluff

Pearls - Smut

Not Yet Blossomed pt 1- Angst/hurt comfort🍒

Hidden Truths - Angst🍒

Hidden Truths pt. 2 - Angst/open end

If I must -Angst🍒

Jacaerys Velaryon-

WIP

Benjicot Blackwood-

Oneshots-

Dramatic

Gwayne Hightower

Oneshots-

Dance of Black and Green

Lord of the Rings

Legolas-

WIP

Thranduil

Oneshots-

Love and War

Marvel (MCU)

Bucky Barnes

Oneshots-

TLB

Arcane -

Viktor -

The Weight of Us🍒

Vi -

Genshin Impact

You get into a barfight

[teawithmadalice]

THE DRAGONS DAUGHTER

Thranduil x Daughter!OC • CHAPTER 4

SUMMARY: Thranduil lost his beloved daughter 500 years ago, on his search for the white gems of Lasgalen- his wife's final gift to him, he finds a young elf who reminds him of his lost daughter.

OR Bilbo and Smaug create a very amusing spectacle for a curious onlooker.

W.C: 2.0K

PART 3 • PART 4 (YOU'RE HERE) • PART 5

Bilbo scrambled across the pools of gold, he was practically swimming in it, every glimpse of white shimmer that caught his eye he picked up and inspected, similarly every gem he inspected was tossed aside.

"Large white jewel, large white jewlel". Bilbo whispered again to himself, the dwarves definitey weren't descriptive, and it was making his job far more difficult than need be.

His small Hobbit hands glided through the gold, unfortunately for him, the coins, trinkets and jewels began tumbling down, the loud clinking and clanking echoed loudly around the high vaulted ceilings and the... what felt like never-ending halls.

Smaug was not unfamiliar with the sound of his precious avalanches of gold, they were common, often falling by themselves or by Aewneth getting carried away when sifting through them.

The dragon was going to ignore the noise and go back to his deep slumber once more, but an unfamiliar scent registered in his mind.

An intruder.

The large dragons body moved before he could think, his large beaded eyes opening as he lifted his head, sniffing the stale air.

Bilbo had fallen back into the gold, slipping the ring back on and closing his eyes, praying to any and every God that Smaug would lay back down and sleep. Alas, he did not.

"...THEIF... I SMELL YOU, I HEAR YOUR BREATH. I FEEL YOUR AIR. WHERE ARE YOU?"

Bilbo runs as fast as his feet can carry him, sliding and tripping along the way, but running none the less. But a small hobbit (despite being invisible) was not going to outrun a dragon.

"COME NOW... DONT BE SHY, STEP INTO THE LIGHT" Smaug follows the noise of skittering coins beneath the man's feet, and he could smell of fear that reeks from the intruders body.

Bilbo backs up into a pillar, the cold stone hitting the back of his head, a sudden jolt of pain shot through his body, he grasps his hand to his chest, trying to soothe the erratic thumping of his heart.

"THERE IS SOMETHING ABOUT YOU... SOMETHING YOU CARRY" he sniffs the air, the warm air travelling so far it brushes Bilbo's cheek. "SOMETHING GOLD... BUT FAR MORE PRECIOUS..."

Precious.

Precious.

Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious.Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious.

The words ring in his ears, he feels fire shooting through his veins. He sees flames, lots of flames and destruction. Flames, flames and... An eye?

The ring fly's from his forefinger before his mind can react, his vision returns to normal, along with his body. 

Smaugs eyes narrow, he can see him.

"THERE YOU ARE... THIEF IN THE SHADOWS..."

"Thief? I did not come to steal from you O Smaug, the unassessably Wealthy. I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence, to see if you really were as great as the old tales say. I did not believe them." Bilbow bowed deeply, holding his breath.

Smaug seems to preen at that, his body shooting up at the faux praise "AND DO YOU BELIEVE THEM NOW?"

"Truly, tales and songs fall utterly short of your enormity, O Smaug the Stupendous..." Bilbo's smile, his hobbit charm has gotten him out of many dangerous situations, but even he knows, sweet talking a dragon was maybe one step too far.

Inevitably, Smaug continues "DO YOU THINK FLATTERY WILL KEEP YOU ALIVE?". He threatens, his large scaled head sinks down, getting closer to the hobbit.

"No, no..."

"NO, INDEED!" A growl rips through his enormous body as he moves, beginning to circle like a predator prepared to attack.

"YOU SEEM FAMILIAR WITH MY NAME, BUT I DONT REMEBER SMELLING YOUR KIND BEFORE. WHO ARE YOU AND WHERE DO YOU COME FROM. MAY I ASK?"

Bilbo's eye flickers around the room in contemplation, should he tell the truth or should he lie- The thought process was cut short as his eyes zero in on a gem. A white gem. A gem that shines with a blue and white magic, something unmistakable... The arkenstone.

" I come from under the hill..." The hobbit replies, his eyes flickering to and from he glowing gem, a flash of images of his little hobbit hole and his arm chair had never been more appealing as it was while he stood in front of a dragon. 

"UNDERHILL?"

"And under hills and over hills my paths lead. And through the air! I am he who walks unseen!" He rambles. God, why did he always do that when he was frightened. His loose mouth would be the end of him one day, he was almost sure of it.

"IMPRESSIVE... WHAT ELSE DO YOU CLAIM TO BE..?" Smaug leans forward once more and sniffs the halfling, a menacing deranged look in his beaded eyes.

"L-Luck-Wearer... R-Riddle-Maker..." God, Bilbo thought, your only making this worse for yourself you imbecile.

"LOVELY TITLES... GO ON" Smaugs tone drilled with malice, sarcasm and mockery, he was intrigued by this small man- dwarf creature.

"Barrel-Rider!" Bilbo blurts out, the pang of embarrassment immediately ricocheting through his body.

"BARRELS... NOW THAT IS INTERESTING" He continues, circling back and forth, a menacing and intimidating presence casting a shadow down on Bilbo.

A sinister smile drifts across Smaugs dragonic features, his teeth, as sharp as blades flashing creuly. "AND WHAT OF YOUR LITTLE DWARF FRIENDS? WHERE ARE THEY HIDING?"

"Dwarves... No. No dwarves here. You've got that all wrong." Utter dread sinks into the pit of his stomach. No, no... This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"OH, I DONT THINK SO BARREL-RIDER! THEY SENT YOU IN HERE TO DO THEIR DIRTY WORK, WHILE THEY SKULK OUTSIDE"

"Truly, you are mistaken, O Smaug Chiefest and Greatest of All Calamities..."

You have nice manners for a thief, and a LIAR! I know the smell and taste of dwarves, no one better!

"YOU HAVE NICE MANNERS FOR A THIEF, AND A LIAR! I KNOW THE SMELL AND TASTE OF DWARVES, NO ONE BETTER!" Smaug rants, turning his back to the hobbit as he spouts violent words, giving Bilbo a convenient window of opportunity. 

Bilbo begins to creep further towards the glowing arkenstone, his eyes zeroing in, his hand almost grabbing it-

A large claw slams down near by, the mountain of gold cascading down, the bright gem bouncing far away. 

"IT IS THE GOLD! THEY ARE DRAWN TO GOLD LIKE FLIES TO DEAD FLESH."

"DID YOU THINK I DID NOT KNOW THIS DAY WOULD COME. THAT A PACK OF CANTING DWARVES WOULDNT COME BACK CRAWLING TO THE MOUNTAIN?" 

As the arkenstone rolled, Bilbo followed, Smaug was angry and no charmed words could mellow it, his claws sank into the gold, his rage emitting in every sharp movement he made.

Smaug moved like a snake, slipping and weaving between the pillars, knocking over the stone and breaking walls and carvings. Bilbo had to ignore it, he couldn't cower in fear, his friends were counting on him.

"BUT THIS IS MY MOUNTAIN, MY HOME, MY FAMILY. IT IS MINE, A GREED STRICKEN DWARF WILL NOT TAKE THAT FROM ME."

••••••••

The loud commotion reverberates through the floor, the very mountain shook, the company of dwarves looked at eachother. 

"What was that?" A voice emerged from one of the many dwarves.

"That, my lad, was a dragon."

The sinking feeling settled as the realisation hit. Smaug was awake.

Thorin Oakenshield felt true loathing. The same loathing he felt when he stared into the eyes of Azog the defiler. This dragon had ripped his home from him and had slept on top of his people's graves for half a millennium.

He knew what he must do.

••••••••

"THE KING UNDER THE MOUNTAIN IS DEAD! I TOOK HIS THRONE. I ATE HIS PEOPLE LIKE A WOLF AMONG SHEEP! I KILL WHERE I WISH, WHEN I WISH! MY ARMOUR IS IRON AND NO BLADE CAN PIERCE IT."

Bilbo slid after the arkenstone as it tumbled, it landed under a ledge, a covered and somewhat sheltered ledge. Perfect, Bilbo could catch his breath. God how he craved his armchair.

"OAKENSHIELD. THAT FILFTHY DWARVISH USURPER. HE SENT YOU IN HERE FOR THE ARKENSTONE, DIDNT HE?"

Bilbo's heart jumped for what felt like the thousandth time, "No- no no no, what are you talking about?"

"DONT BOTHER DENYING IT, I SENSED HIS FOUL PURPOSE SOME TIME AGO. BUT IT MATTERS NOT. OAKENSHIELDS QUEST WILL FAIL." 

Smaug growled, his eyes burning amber like the fire in his chest, burning at his throat begging to come out and scorch the Hobbit where he stood.

"THE DARKNESS IS COMING, IT WILL SPREAD TO EVERY CORNER OF THE LAND. BUT HERE WE WILL BE SAFE, MY FAMILY WILL BE SAFE. AND I REFUSE TO LET A DWARF JEOPARDISE THAT."

"YOU ARE BEING USED, THIEF IN THE SHADOWS... YOU WERE ONLY EVER A MEANS TO AN END, THE COWARD OAKENSHIELD HAS WEIGHED THE VALUE OF YOUR LIFE AND FOUND IT WORTH... NOTHING."

Bilbo stutters, that wasn't true. Thorin Oakenshield was stubborn, an arse sometimes, and can be sharp tongued, but Bilbo had seen his benevolence, his care and compassion- it was hidden by his bravado slightly... But the kindness was there, the hobbit had never been so sure of it... Right?

"No, no- you're lying!"

"WHAT DID HE PROMISE YOU? A SHARE OF THE TREASURE? AS IF IT WAS HIS TO GIVE. I WILL NOT PART WITH A SINGLE COIN. NOT. ONE." Smaug roared, clambering across his trove once more, his scales began to glow orange, the fire within scratching his insides.

"MY TEETH ARE SWORDS, MY CLAWS ARE SPEARS, MY WINGS ARE A HURRICANE!" 

As he moves around, Bilbo gazed up in fear, was his death truly near? Smaugs scales were large, uniform and intimidating, and one was... Missing.

"So it's true... Black arrow left it's mark..."

Wrath burned in Smaugs eyes as he roared, "WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"I- I was just saying your reputation precedes you... O Smaug the tyrannical, truly you have no equal on this earth." 

A sick grin returned to the dragons mouth. "I AM ALMOST TEMPTED TO LET YOU TAKE IT. IF ONLY TO SEE OAKENSHIELD SUFFER, WATCH IT DESTROY HIM... WATCH IT CORRUPT HIS HEART AND DRIVE HIM MAD... BUT I THINK NOT. I THINK OUR LITTLE GAME ENDS HERE. SO TELL ME... THIEF. HOW DO YOU CHOOSE TO DIE?"

The words he uttered didn't have time to sink in before Bilbo slipped the ring once more onto his finger, he quickly scattered, collecting the white gem and running up a gigantic staircase. Smaug's fire left his mouth and followed closely behind Bilbo. The heat licked at his skin, but he ignored the burn.

•••••••

Thorin Oakenshield had not been inside his home for 500 years, and the maze of tunnels he once lived in now felt foreign. It took the company much longer than they would ever admit- getting lost in your own home was not something to be proud of.

But eventually, Thorin found the exit, the roar of a dragon pierced his ear drums as he ran, eyes scanning the gold.

Bilbo. Where's Bilbo.

"Thorin!" A shout came from his side, the small man dashed towards him, hair disheveled and slightly singed. 

"Bilbo!" He yelled. "The arkenstone. Where is it?"

•••••••••

Aewneth had been sitting on the stone ceiling beams for a while. Her elven ears had been pricked by the sound of falling gold, deciding to climb above the treasury instead of going directly to the source.

There was an intruder in her home, an awfully polite intruder to his credit, and her territorial dragonic father had been awoken. It certainly would be an interesting encounter. 

It was fascinating, seeing her kind father roar with anger. Of course she knew dragons were made of rage and hatred itself, birthed from the very hands of morgoth, but she had never seen it before, it was truly something to marvel at.

Although the show was quite amusing, once fire began to be thrown, Aewneth decided to retreat... She must go and find that Bilbo Baggins from Bag-end and learn more.

••••••••••

TAGS:

@sunroxic @trishfullertonwriting75 @ringwraith1261 @sanwhs2 @aduialel @kittysspam @prettyself @dipping-dots @carnivore-spikachu @monchaeri3 @kaorisakamotofan @chibiduck @whimsicalfungiforager @ziaphene @succulent-ruler6 @kaorisakamotofan @fatkish @barbare2

[elaratheguardian]

Me when everyone is interested in Sauron, Elrond, Glorfindel, and I only want Thranduil. Like hello??? It's an Elven King??

[imagines--galore]

||Love Happens||

Summary: As the youngest daughter of the House of Rivendell, Annúneth has lived a sheltered life. Though that does not stop her from meeting the Prince of Greenwood. And though they start off on the wrong foot, there is one thing that neither of them can deny. 

And that is sometimes, Love simply Happens.

Pairing: Legeloas x AnnúnethOC (Hobbit, LOTR)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. None

A/N: This is for @siriuslydestiny​ and @lovelyxkazuha​ Hope you enjoy your request! And this is for @entishramblings​ who hasn’t been feeling the best lately! Also this story takes place AGES before the events of the Hobbit. So Mirkwood is still called Greenwood! And Thranduil isn’t as uptight : P

It was not often that Lord Elrond lead a Hunting Party. But both his sons were away traveling, and he wanted to be sure that no lingering Orcs or Goblins would happen upon Rivendell by accident.

What he had not expected, on the journey home, was for his Hunting Party to instead become a Welcoming Party to the King of Greenwood himself.

“Thranduil, we did not expect you for another week.” Elrond called out as a way of greeting his old friend as he dismounted his horse. Thranduil offered a slight smile in return. “The weather was favorable, and the enemy few. I also wanted to put to rest the rumors of your hospitality as soon as possible. See for myself whether what I heard was truth or not.” The two Elven leaders gave a respectful tilt of the head before grasping each other’s forearms in a greeting one soldier gave another.

Elrond simply smiled in response. “You shall be the judge of that, melon nin. But for now, let us return to Rivendell together. I am sure both our arrivals are anticipated by our comrades.”

Quickly mounting their horses once more, the two Elven Leaders urged their mounts forward, their respective parties following after them.

“How fare your children Elrond? Is your youngest Arwen residing with you, or is she with her grand-sire in Lothlorien?”

Elrond gave a secret smile at the mention of Arwen being the youngest, but made no move to say anything. “She is indeed in Lothlorien, finishing the last of her studies with Galadriel. The twins are leading an expedition to the North. I have yet to hear from them, but last I received a letter, they were in high spirits.” Elrond turned his head towards Thranduil.

“And what of your son Legolas? I have not seen him yet. Did he not come with you?” A sigh fell from Thranduil’s lips, one that Elrond was all too familiar with. It was the sigh of a parent who was at their wit’s end with their child.

“He is here, but he insisted on taking the longer route. Some nonsense about seeing new sights and such.” Thranduil shook his head, not understanding the need his son had when it came to exploring. “He shall be joining us on a later day. Perhaps tomorrow.”

During their conversation, the Parties had reached Rivendell, blowing horns to announce their arrival as they did. It was truly a sight to behold, a marvel of elven architecture and design. Every aspect was flawless, the House built around nature, spacious windows and multiple rooms open to the elements.

As they crossed the bridge Thranduil could not help but comment. “Though I much prefer the Woods of my home, I must say Elrond, you have indeed taken care of your home all these years. It is just as when I first laid eyes upon it when I was an elfling.”

Elrond smiled in a polite manner. He knew Thranduil, knew that the King hardly gave compliments outright. This was to the best of his efforts. He did feel a sense of pride, as their horses cantered across the bridge and towards the main platform where several elves were already waiting to greet them. “I thank you for your kind words Thranduil.” He said as he dismounted. “But for now, let us change and reconvene for dinner. I am sure yo-”

“Ada!"

The cry rang loud and clear from the top of the stairs, cutting off whatever else Elrond had to say. The assembled Elves spun towards the source of the sound. A figure revealed itself. The skirt of their dress lifted to their knees, pale legs and feet bared to those standing below, bright golden hair flowing behind her, unbraided and free. And even from afar one could see a simple silver circlet resting on her forehead.

Lord Elrond's entire demeanor changed from a reserved elf and leader to that of an overjoyed parent, as he held his arms open in greeting, a smile on his lips.

"Annúneth!"

The elleth launched herself into her father's arms, holding him close, her face buried in his chest. Elrond returned the embrace just as lovingly as it was given. The Elves of Rivendell smiled fondly at the display of familial love. King Thranduil and the rest of his party looked on in slight surprise at the golden haired elleth who was now gazing up at her father, relief yet slight concern evident on her delicate features.

"You were not harmed, were you Ada?" She asked, her voice soft and light. The elves started to move, taking the horses to the stables while the guests stood where they were. Elrond shook his head, resting a hand atop the soft head of gold locks, so like her mother's.

"As you can see I am quite alright my dear Yelde. You need not worry about me." The elleth shook her head in response.

"I shall always worry when you leave Ada. As will Arwen, Elladen and Elrohir." Her gaze finally shifted from her father's familiar features to the newcomers. Elrond followed her line of sight. Keeping one arm around her shoulders he smiled at Thranduil.

“Thranduil, may I introduce you to my youngest, Annúneth.” He gently pushed his daughter towards the King. “Annúneth, this is Thranduil. He resides as King over Greenwood and is a dear friend.” The King towered over the elleth, but that did not deter her from meeting his graze briefly, before lowering into an elegant curtsy, her eyes dropping to the floor for a brief moment as she did. 

“You honor us with your presence King Thranduil.” She said, her voice ever polite and ever gentle. The older elf tilted his head in return. “And you surprise us with yours, Lady Annúneth.” His gaze shifted towards his friend, who was trying his best to hide his mirth. “Considering we were not made aware of it.”

Annúneth glanced at her father. “I shall leave Ada to explain his reasoning for I am sure he has an extensive list.” She cleverly stated, stepping away from her father’s embrace. Her grey eyes shifted to the rest of the assembled elves of Greenwood Annúneth lifted her head, her shoulders back as she addressed them.

In the blink of an eye she had morphed from a loving daughter, to the Lady of the House. And with her Mother having sailed to Valinor, and sister presently absent, the task did fall to her.

“Brothers and Sisters.” A look of surprise passed each elven face when she spoke in the tongue of their forest, Silvan. “On behalf of my father, Lord Elrond, Protector of Rivendell, I, his daughter Annúneth, welcome you to our home. Please follow me so that I may guide you to your rooms where you can freshen up before we all sit down for dinner. Your horses will be taken care of.”

With that the golden haired elven maid turned. When before she had been racing down the stairs, this time she seemed to glide along, leading the eager elves to where they would be residing during their stay at Rivendell.

Leaving a proud father, and an elven King who was seldom surprised and impressed.

And for once, Thranduil wasn’t loathe to admit that he was both.

                                             ————————–

“Will you now reveal to me the secrecy behind your youngest daughter’s existence Elrond?”

The wine hadn’t even been poured, the doors barely shut when Thrandul had demanded answers. Despite years on Middle-Earth, it would seem patience was one virtue his friend had no desire to perfect.

Thank the Valar he had enough for the both of them.

Pouring the wine, Elrond held the delicately wrought cup towards his friend. “It is a rather long tale my friend.” He stated, gesturing towards a pair of high backed chairs where he would usually conduct lessons with Annúneth. Thranduil, having taken a sip, sat down, watching as Elrond sat next to him. There was a brief moment of silence, as Elrond drank his wine.

Then he spoke.

“Celebrían and I were blessed and content with our three children. We had thought surely Valar did not seek to bless us again. But then we were wrong.” Elrond smiled as thoughts of his youngest daughter filled his head and made his heart swell with fatherly affection and love. “We were blessed with Annúneth in late Autumn in the year 1805.”

Thranduil raised a brow. “That is quite a long time to conceal the birth of an elven child Elrond.” He said, to which his friend nodded. “I agree, but it was her grandmother who insisted that we keep knowledge of her existence a secret, and tell as few others as possible.”

A frown creased his forehead as he pursed his lips, hands clasped around the stem of his wine glass. “We were not aware of the reasoning behind Galadriel‘s decision, but we did not question it. The only people to know of her existence were our family, a few other elves and, of course, Gandalf. No one outside of Rivendell, save her grandparents and Gandalf even knew of her.”

Bringing the glass to his lips he took a sip, gathering strength for what was to come next. “Then Celebrían was captured by Orcs and held captive for days.” His heart hurt even after all these years. The horror his beloved had to endure, the torture those monsters and inflicted upon her. “It was Annúneth who found where she was. She too possesses the gift of Sight. Yet hers only works when she is asleep, and is more concerned with present events and what outcome they might have. Through her intervention, the twins were able to save their Mother from a truly gruesome death and return with her.”

Thranduil frowned. “But then why hide her away? Why not use her gift to change the future as we see fit?” He asked, leaning forward as he awaited Elrond’s answer. The Elf Lord raised his eyes to meet Thranduil’s and the latter was surprised to see the utter sorrow and despair that was clear within his grey eyes. “The dreams she sees, my friend, they cause her unbearable pain. The night she had the dream about her mother dying, Annúneth was near inconsolable. She could feel her mother’s pain. And not just the physical strain.”

His eyes widening in realization, Thranduil felt a strange feeling akin to protection rise within him as he thought of the young elleth experiencing something truly grotesque and unmentionable. “You hid her away.” He said, his voice low. “So she would not meet people, so that she wouldn’t dream about them.”

Elrond nodded. “That was my intention when she was younger. But now, under her grandmother’s guidance, Annúneth has truly gained control over her abilities and has come further then I could ever have hoped.” The pride was evident in his tone as he finished his wine and stood. He paused at the window, having spied a familiar golden head, so like her mother’s, drifting by. Sometimes, when he looked outside his window and saw her, he mistook her for her mother.

Out of all his children, Annúneth had inherited her mother’s beautiful golden hair. Perhaps the reason her grandparents doted upon her so was because she reminded them of their own daughter.

“And are you willing to share your daughter with the world?” Thranduil asked, as he came to stand beside his friend, looking down at the elleth as well. Elrond laughed softly. “If I had my way, I would keep her hidden away from the horrors of the world.” He said truthfully but then he shook his head.

“And yet, I cannot keep something beautiful from the rest of the world. That would be truly selfish of me.”

                                            ————————–

Perhaps preparing a basket for a picnic that would happen in the morning wasn’t the best of ideas. She could always do that tomorrow, yet Annúneth found herself too excited to sleep. Instead, she had made her way towards the kitchen and lined up several baskets along the shelf, to be filled with all manners of eatables to take for the picnic tomorrow.

Her father had permitted she show their guests the beauty of their home, and she had suggested the meadows nearby. It was Spring, and the flowers would be in bloom. And since she had never had the chance to share her home with anyone else, Annúneth was eager to show their guests everything. Already she knew them all by name and was on her way to making friends with most of them.

Humming a long forgotten lullaby under her breath, Annúneth sifted through the jars of honey, trying to get the biggest ones from the back, where she kept them hidden away from her brothers. They had a tendency to go through honey as if it would run out and they would be left barren. Shaking her head at her brother’s obvious gluttonous nature when it came to any sweet concoction, Annúneth continued her task.

However, a sudden noise had her stilling in her movements.

She had been rummaging through a shelf that was partially hidden from the rest of the kitchen, yet gave her a full view of the room. And since she did not light a candle, choosing to work under the light of the moon, Annúneth was completely hidden in the shadows.

The sight of a hooded figure moving about the kitchen had her drawing a silent gasp.

Not a guest, for why would they sneak about wearing a hood?

A thief perhaps?

The figure moved about, inspecting the basket before taking out one of the loaves of bread Annúneth had placed within a few moments ago. From a young age, her brothers had taught her to be wary, and though it did not deter her from being the open and friendly elleth that she was, it did help her in drawing on suspicion when the situation called for it.

And presently, it did.

Her eyes darted around, to see if she could use something as a weapon. Silver grey eyes landed on a heavy pan. As quietly as she was able to Annúneth took one off, gripping the heavy handle between delicate hands. She would’ve preferred her sword, but since she didn’t have it on her, using the pan as a weapon to defend herself, if need be, would have to do.

The figure’s back was turned to her, and she could make out the soft sound of chewing as they ate the bread.

Providing Annúneth with the perfect opportunity to step out of her hiding spot, the frying pan swinging through the air.

                                            ————————–

He had not expected to return early.

Or rather so late.

It would seem everyone had retired for the night, and since Legolas and his few companions had not entered from the main entrance, their arrival went unannounced. Something that he preferred really, since he had no desire to make pleasantries.

At least not until he had eaten something.

While his companions took care of the horses and moved off to search for the rest of their party, Legolas made his way towards the kitchen. He knew Rivendell well enough to navigate his way through the dark and towards the empty kitchen. He kept his hood up, not wanting to be recognized by his hair. A rather unusual color even amongst elves.

Catching sight of the several baskets that were lined up neatly on the counter, the young Prince paused, a little curious at the arrangement. His growling stomach, however, didn’t give him much time to contemplate on it. Moving forward, he peered into one of the baskets, and seeing a loaf of bread within, pulled it out. Tearing off a piece he began to chew, enjoying the milky taste that was infused within the bread. Strange, yet not at all bad. Or perhaps he was simply too hungry to complain.

The unsuspecting elf was simply enjoying his meager, yet delicious, meal when the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. His eyes widened, he dropped the half eaten bread he held. Pivoting on his feet, and seeing the descending pan aimed towards his head, the Prince threw his hand out, catching the hand that held the handle and stopping it midair.

And not a moment too soon, since the pan stopped just a few inches shy of his temple.

                                            ————————–

The two figures stood motionless, their gazes locked.

The sudden pivot of his head had the hood of Legolas’s cloak slipping from his head, allowing his assailant to meet his eyes without the shadow of it obscuring their vision.

Annúneth had to tilt her head back to meet the stranger’s gaze. She could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest as she allowed her eyes to take in the rest of the stranger’s features. Then again, she was not the only one occupied in such a manner. Perhaps it would not have been wise to think of the stranger as handsome, despite the dirt that marred his face, and yet, she found herself thinking along the words regardless. Though that did not mean her resolve to hit him, should he be a threat, lessened.

To say he was surprised at the ferocity his assailant seemed to exude would be an understatement. Legolas was taken aback by the strength he had to use, just to keep the elleth’s choice of weapon knocking him unconscious. She was strong, of that he had no doubt. And yet, the fierceness did not take away from the beauty that was her face. Not to mention her hair. A halo of pure light that seemed to cascade down her back in rivers of gold.

A twitch of her arm had him returning to this current predicament.

“Why do you attack me?” The stranger asked in her mother tongue, his grip on her wrist not loosening. A good thing, Annúneth supposed, since she would’ve hit him. A scowl creased her forehead as she responded. “Do I not have the right to defend my own home from a vagrant vagabond such as yourself?”

Blue eyes blinked. “Vagabond?” He repeated, and Annúneth could see that despite the wariness in his expression there was amusement there at her choice of word.

The both of them were still locked in position, with Annúneth’s arms raised above her head, fingers grasping the handle of the pan. However, both of her wrists were being kept in a firm grip by Legolas. Remembering what her brothers had taught her, Annúneth pivoted on her feet, throwing her shoulder out to try and knock the elf off his feet, or at least surprise him to let go of her wrists.

Which he did, allowing Annúneth to raise the pan in front of her as a makeshift weapon. “Make yourself known, lest you wish to be thrown out.” She stated, her voice firm and sure. Even as her grey eyes flickered to his hair. A color that looked vaguely familiar, yet somehow, she could not seem to place where she had seen it before.

Despite the weariness that wore down on him, and the fact that he should end the confrontation by simply telling her who he was, Legolas paused. Her referral to him as a Vagrant Vagabond had been amusing, and he wanted to hear what else she would say about him. “And if I wish to keep my identity a secret?” He asked, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he picked up the bread he had dropped and placed it behind him on the counter. “Will you truly throw me out in the cold? Come now, I had heard tales of the hospitality of the elves of Rivendell, was it all simply a myth?”

As he spoke, Legolas began to walk, prompting Annúneth to take a step as well, and without the either of them realizing, they began to trace a circle with each step they took. “We offer hospitality to those who use the front door like civilized beings, not steal in, in the dead of the night.” She responded, her words sharp and clear, grey eyes never wavering from the figure. It disconcerted her, how ill at ease he appeared to be. Perhaps he had been here before? But then she would’ve met him.

Legolas paused briefly to pick up a bushel of grapes from a fruit platter and began to eat it. “I am not civilized, is that what you mean?” He asked, speaking around a mouthful of grapes, and not bothering to wipe some of the juice that traced from the corner of his mouth to his jaw. A happy accident that only seemed to strengthen Annúneth’s opinion of him. “You look as if you took a tumble down a hill, straight into a river of mud, before purposefully step into every piece of dirt you could find.” She responded, prompting the stranger to glance down at himself.

“I do not look that bad.” He responded, looking a little put off, to which Annúneth smirked. “You have leaves in your hair.” She deadpanned.

Legolas ran a hand through his hair, and sure enough, a few wayward leaves fluttered to the floor. He grimaced. Perhaps her wording of him had been correct. “Since that is the case,” He muttered to himself, before pausing in his steps. Turning so he could look at the elleth, the young Prince tilted his head in a slight bow, a hand over his heart, his gaze trained to the ground. “Pray will you not show this Vagabond the kindness he does not deserve My Lady, and allow him a place to clean and rest.” His posture stayed the same, but his gaze lifted to meet her own from across the room.

She may be a wary young elf maiden, but she was not without compassion. His words, nay the honesty in his eyes, had her lowering her arms, the pan now hanging at her side. “And how can I be sure, that you are not here to hurt my family or my home?” She asked, unsure how he would reassure her of that.

Legolas straightened, hand hand still over his heart, and something deep within him compelled him to say the next few words. “You have my word, My Lady. While I walk these halls, no harm shall come to your home, your loved ones.”

His gaze held hers.

“Or you.”

                                            ————————–

Call her a naive fool, but she took his word to heart.

And had found herself leading him towards one of the empty rooms where the rest of the guests were staying. She was acutely aware of his presence beside her, as she navigated through the darkened hallway with ease. While Legolas had to force his eyes to stay straight ahead, since they seemed to have developed a habit of straying in Annúneth‘s direction every now and then.

Sooner then he would’ve liked, they came to a stop in front of a door, which she gestured for him to enter, with a delicate sweep of her hand. Legolas, stepped forward, his resting hand on the handle. But then he paused. 

Annúneth, who had turned around without a word, intent on walking back to her own room, had paused as well.

Even now, as she walked to the private dining hall where breakfast was being served, Annúneth felt a strange tremble run through her body, as the memory of last night played in her mind.

They had both looked over their shoulders at one another, their gazes meeting and despite the late hour, Annúneth had never felt more awake then she did in that moment, standing there in the presence of the stranger. While Legolas found himself wanting to stay in her presence, despite the fact he did not even know her name.

And before he could even ask, she had walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“I see you have seen to grace us with your presence Sister.” Elladan called as Annúneth entered the room, closing the door behind her as she did. She smiled as she approached the table and took a seat beside her father. “Not all of us have the luxury to come straight down to breakfast as soon as they are awake Brother.” The younger elleth responded, quickly leaning forward and kissing her father in greeting.

Tilting her head in greeting in Thranduil’s direction, Annúneth turned to break her fast. As the siblings squabbled, teased and argued throughout the meal, Elrond barely batted an eye as he ate, his plate being filled at least twice by his daughter without his knowing, since he was busy speaking with Thranduil. The elf-king, however, noticed everything, his sharp eye and keen ears picking up on everything.

Noticing, in particular, the extra seat that had been placed beside him, that remained empty.

Clearly Legolas had slept in, tired from his late arrival.

Shame, he had wanted his son to make himself known to their hosts during his presence.

                                            ————————–

The picnic Annúneth had planned, set out once breakfast was over. It was only an hour’s ride to the flower meadows that was teeming with woodland creatures of all manner. The grass was tall, as were the flowers, the animals quite tame, used to the elves who would come to visit from time to time.

The place was something of a sanctuary for Annúneth, and she was more then happy to share it with her guests. They dismounted from their horses, set them loose to wander about and soon everyone began to do the same.

Fingers skimmed over flowers. Trees were climbed and branches used as perches. Deer were petted and stroked. Butterflies were chased and admired. Flutes were played, and harps were strung. Food was shared and eaten. A few voices rose in song, gentle and soothing.

And in the middle of it all, Annúneth sat alone amongst the tall stalks, with only the top of her golden head visible, with a pretty flower crown adorning her forehead, her hair unbound, her face aglow.

Her delicate fingers worked on making another flower crown. While her own was made using flowers of varying shades of yellow, the one she made presently comprised of flowers that nature had shaded with a certain blue hue.

A blue that reminded her of a certain stranger.

As was the norm, she was humming under her breath, sometimes singing along with the rest of her companions, content in her task.

That is until someone decided to join her.

“We meet again.” His voice came, familiar and yet unknown at the same time. Without looking up from her fingers as she twined the flower stalks, Annúneth responded. “You are within the vicinity of my home. It would’ve been strange if we did not meet again.”

He laughed. The sound strangely melodic, or at least to her ears. An odd comparison, yet it made sense. She still did not look at him. “Are you still going to treat me as the vagabond you believe I am?” He asked, to which she responded with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “If the shoe fits.” Humming in thought, as if contemplating on how to make her see that she was wrong, Legolas reached out to pick one of the blue flowers she would be using for her crown and twirled it between his fingers.

“I have done my best to appear presentable. Will you not look to see if it is so?” There was simply something about her, that prompted him to get a rise out of her somehow. Be it in a positive or negative light. It was rather unlike him, to be vying for the attention of an elleth in such a way. And yet, he found he could not help himself.

Setting the finished crown in her lap, Annúneth pursed her lips. Valar, he was being more persistent then her brothers. And that was saying something.

Still, she turned her head, a few wisps of her hair waving gently in the breeze, partially covering her lips and nose, though she made no attempt to push them back.

The previous night, when she had seen him, Annúneth had seen past the dirt and grime, and had seen the handsome face beneath. Somehow, his face appeared different then it was. The night before, he had appeared mysterious and alluring. Perhaps an effect of the moon? That must be it, for in the sunlight, he appeared calm, at ease and............free.

And just as handsome as he had the night before.

Perhaps he should have braced himself before he had asked her to look at him. Because while she was taken aback by him, he certainly felt his very heart stutter in his chest as those piercing grey eyes lifted to meet his gaze. While the moon had made her hair appear almost silvery last night, the morning sun showed its true golden beauty.

As the breeze blew, gentle and slow, the two elves found themselves simply sitting there, looking at one another. Caught in some spell that neither of them had cast. Or at least not consciously.

“Have I....passed your judgement?” He asked, his voice low, to which she responded with a slight tilt of her head, the action just barely noticeable. “It will take more then your charming attributes to earn my trust.”

Slowly, as if afraid that she were a dream that would fade should he startle either himself or her, his hand lifted, fingers curling along the soft strands of her hair. The tips of his fingers skimmed along the warm skin of her cheek, slowly tracing a path towards her ear, where he tucked the wayward wisps of hair.

All so he could see her face fully.

“Then perhaps I should strive harder to win it.” He said, and if anyone were to hear the conviction in his tone, they would have no doubt of his intention to do just that.

Annúneth felt her very breath stall, and had to force herself to keep her eyes from fluttering shut, just to savor the sensation of his touch against her skin. This was so strange. How could a complete stranger, one she deemed rude and a vagabond, have such an intense effect on her?

His blue eyes seemed to be speaking to the very depth of her being, and it did not make her feel vulnerable. On the contrary, she had never felt more.........safe. Which was a rather rare occurrence given her gifts.

Her lips set in a gentle smile that was just barely there. “I look forward to seeing you put in the effort Vagabond.” The elleth lifted the flower crown she had finished, and carefully set it around his head, admiring how the blue petals matched his eyes perfectly.

Her fingers accidentally grazed his temple as she pulled back. Legolas stilled, his eyes widening a fraction as a warmth raced through his body. One that engulfed his entire heart and simmered just there under his skin, a pleasant sensation that he would be reliving for the rest of the day.

Annúneth felt the shift in the air between them, prompting her to return her hands to her lap, lest she find herself unconsciously tracing his features, an urge she felt rise within her the more they sat there, looking at one another. Truly whatever spell had been cast was quite a powerful one, for the only way it was broken, was a voice calling out to Annúneth.

Breaking away from his gaze, Annúneth called back to whoever had said her name.

“Annúneth.” She heard him say, startling her into realizing that it was the first time her name was uttered in his presence. “Is that your name?” He asked, to which she raised an eyebrow. “Considering I responded to it, it would not take a particularly sharp mind to realize that it was.”

Unlike before, there was no sharpness behind her words. Just a simple, playful teasing lilt of her voice that had him smiling at her. “And now that you know my name.” She continued, oblivious to the way he was smiling at her. “It is only right that I should know yours.”

She glanced over her shoulder, waving at whoever had called her, informing them that she would be with them momentarily. “Legolas.” He said, once she had returned her gaze to his.

Unbidden, his name rose to her lips. “Legolas.” Rising to her feet, Annúneth tilted her head at him playfully, the flower crown still adorning her head. “I hope your stay at Rivendell will be a pleasant one.”

With that she turned and walked away, leaving him, and missing the words he whispered. Words that were lost to the wind. “I believe it already is.”

                                             ————————–

“Elrond, I have been patient enough and I believe it is time I tell you my true reason for coming here.”

Having been expecting such a conversation to come up soon, Elrond responded with a nod and a gesture for Thranduil to take a seat beside him. He was in his study, going over a manuscript Gandalf had brought him while passing through Rivendell. “I believe I am aware of what you speak of.” He said, shutting the leather bound book and setting it aside. Thranduil raised an eyebrow.

“So you have seen it I presume.”

It was more of a statement then an inquiry, but Elrond still nodded.

Since he possessed the gift of foresight, it was not surprising one of his children should inherit a semblance of it in some way. Though while Annúneth shared all that she would see in her dreams with her father, Elrond did not share much. At least not when his visions pertained to his children.

And he had had one such vision. Of Annúneth. His beloved sunshine.

“As a father I have been dreading this day.” He spoke, looking towards the wall where several portraits hung. One of each of his children. His gaze was focused on the elleth with golden hair and expressive grey eyes. “But I know as well as anyone, that no matter what, we cannot change what is predestined.”

Thranduil too followed Elrond’s line of sight. For a moment a stab of pain echoed through his very soul, as he was reminded of the Queen he had lost so long ago. His beloved.

“No, we cannot.” He muttered, thinking of all the ways he had tried to save her from her gruesome fate but had failed. “But I give you my word Elrond.” The two elven patriarchs turned their heads, knowing a solemn vow was to take place.

“I shall take care of her, as if she were my own.” Thranduil vowed.

If Elrond was willing to agree to it, then surely his own son would have no qualms about the arrangement. After all, Elrond would not send his beloved daughter to a place where she would not be loved.

“It would seem the joining of our two houses has been inevitable.” Elrond said with a sad smile. “I wish I could say that I was happy about it, but in truth, my heart is torn, for one day Annúneth will leave Rivendell. Leave me.”

The Elven King shook his head. “I have no desire to take her away from you anytime soon Elrond. What the both of us have spoken of, I have no intention of speaking to my son about it for a while.” Though he had a reputation of being cold and heartless, Thranduil did have a soft spot for his only child.

And now, it would seem, Annúneth was beginning to make room in his heart as well.

“I was gifted the chance to find love, as were you.” Glancing in the direction of Annúneth‘s portrait, Thranduil continued. “I want to give our children that same gift.”

Smiling, Elrond nodded sagely. “I will have to write Galadriel and Celeborn of your intention, but I agree. Let us see what fate has in store for our children. I believe there was a rather interesting interaction between them only a few nights ago.”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow, curious to know what had occurred. Elrond smiled.

“They are not aware of who the other is, and I intend to keep it that way for as long as I am able.”

It was rare for the Elven King to laugh out of amusement, for he rarely found reasons to be happy. And yet in that moment, the sheer absurdity of what had occurred as Elrond recounted it, had him throwing his head back and laughing.

                                             ————————–

Annúneth had never been one to shy away from people.

Even when she was younger, and barely had any grasp on her abilities, she would still wish to sit amongst others and converse, or sometimes just sit and listen.

The occasions where she wished to be by herself were rare.

But then sometimes, there were nights of dreams and nightmares that would weigh heavy on her mind. So many fates of so many people morphing together and overwhelming her, body and soul.

And this was one of those nights.

She sat awake on her bed, arms resting atop her knees where she had pulled her legs to her chest, her gaze listless as she stared at the open windows in front of her, the soft gossamer curtains fluttering gently. No matter how hard she tried, the visions would not leave her alone. For years she had trained with her grandmother as well as her father, to try and contain her abilities.

Not suppress them. They could never be suppressed. The visions she had of all those she met was just as involuntary to her as breathing. Sometimes, she would get visions that would show her the joy that particular being was feeling in that moment. But then there were times when all she experienced was heartache, pain and fear.

And this was one of those nights.

It would seem a few elves she had met a decade or so ago were to be slaughtered by a band of Orcs. Yes, she could send out a raven to warn them, but what if it was already happening. What if she were too late?

Hence the reason for her being awake so late at night, with her heart heavy and her mind made up to avoid company for a day or so.

For reasons unknown to her, her mind conjured the image of a certain vagabond. And that image only solidified in her mind’s eye, chasing away the remaining clouds of despair of the visions she had just seen. She frowned, biting her lower lip as she slid out of bed. Quickly changing into a simple dress and, as was the norm for her, choosing to be barefoot, the elf-maiden stepped out of her room, into the empty hallway, and made her way towards her sanctuary.

The thought of Legolas keeping her company.

                                             ————————–

He could not find her anywhere.

Legolas had walked the entirety of Rivendell and had been unable to locate Annúneth. Worry was beginning to gnaw at his chest. He knew she was not out riding for her beloved horse was in the stables. And there was no hunting party or picnic planned that she could have gone to.

It was rather the norm, for him to run into her at some point during the day. Most of the time they only nodded at one another in passing, though he always turned to look at her as she would continue on her way. Since their shared time together in the meadow, fate had not given them the chance to be in one another’s presence for longer then a few minutes.

And Legolas quickly found that despite knowing nearly nothing of the elleth, he missed her company. And he wanted to remedy the fact that he barely knew anything about her by, well, getting to know her more.

Hence his current mission: to locate Annúneth.

Opening the door to the armory, he was surprised to see his father and Elrond standing together and having a rather animated discussion with a swordsmith. Normally he would’ve joined them, but right then he was starting to get a little anxious since he couldn’t find Annúneth.

He had hoped to turn away unnoticed, but his father always had a habit of knowing when he was near. “Legolas, what brings you here?” The Elven King asked as the swordsmith walked away to whatever task he had been appointed. “I am looking for someone.” He responded, to which both Lords glanced at one another, a look passing between them that had the Prince raising his brows in silent question. Elrond smiled as he turned his attention back to Legolas. “And who is it that you are looking for?” He asked. As Lord of Rivendell, he would know where Annúneth was, wouldn’t he?

Stepping forward eagerly he voiced. “I am looking for an elleth by the name of Annúneth. Perhaps you know her?” Mirth shone in the elder elf’s eyes. Even his father looked amused, and that hardly ever happened, which only served to confuse him even more.

“I do know her. And if you cannot find her anywhere, she has probably retreated to her garden. There is a tapestry, in the Western Wing, that depicts the first meeting of Beren and Lúthien. You will find a door behind it.” He had barely finished speaking before Legolas had quickly bowed and made his retreat.

“Beren and Lúthien?” Thranduil asked, appearing just as amused as before.

Elrond smiled. “Annúneth’s favorite tale.” He said as a way of explanation before they both turned their attention to the daggers that had been in the works.

                                             ————————–

Just as Elrond had told him, the door was behind the tapestry. And beyond it was a garden unlike any he had seen before. 

It was by no means a large garden, but was comfortably sized and circular in shape, with a tree in the center, its branches laden with white flowers. Beds of flowers dotted the landscape, and a small fountain fixed into one of the walls trickled merrily into a white marble basin. 

And while the garden demanded to be explored, it was the figure that lay upon the ground just under the tree that grabbed his attention. As he approached, Annúneth sat up, the surprise clear on her face as she blinked at him. There was grass in her hair, and white petals from where the wind was blowing them to the ground.

They both blinked at one another in surprise.

Annúneth at seeing him there, in her sanctuary that only a few people knew of, and Legolas at the realization that he had been distraught over not knowing where she was all day. But then, he suddenly realized, perhaps he hadn’t seen her because she didn’t want to be seen. Perhaps she had wanted to be left alone. Unsure whether Annúneth wanted him there or not, the Prince was quick to try and retreat.

“Forgive me, My Lady. I did not wish to intrude.” He bowed before walking back towards the door.

“Wait!”

Her gentle implore had him stopping in his tracks, his hand grazing the bronze of the handle, ready to push it down. “You are not intruding.” Her voice, gentle and kind was low. “Though I am curious as to how you found me here.” Turning, Legolas found her standing underneath the tree, her gaze fixed on him. “Lord Elrond.” He responded, his voice slightly hoarse. He paused, cleared his throat. “Lord Elrond told me where I’d be able to find you.” The Prince admitted, which had Annúneth shaking her head, a fond smile on her face.

Sighing, she raised her arms on either side as a gesture of welcome. “Well since you are already here, why not explore? It would be a shame for you to not be aware of the hidden beauty Rivendell has to offer.”

Gaining some of the confidence he seemed to have lost at the sight of her so carefree and unbound as she appeared to be in the beauty of the Garden, Legolas smiled. “That would be a false claim, My Lady, since I have seen all the beauty Rivendell has to offer.”

His intense gaze never once wavered from her face.

Her mouth opened, as if she were ready to dismiss what he said and prove him wrong, but then she stopped. Realization dawned across her features, which was immediately followed by her cheeks glowing with a hint of rosiness that was so unlike her. Not to mention the way in which her heart thumped in her chest, and pleasure swirled through her very being at the compliment he had given her.

This would not be the first occasion her beauty had been mentioned, though it was always secondary compared to her far lovelier older sister Arwen. Not that Annúneth held any contempt for her sister because it was the truth. Arwen was beautiful.

And yet, at that moment, having Legolas say those words to her, she couldn’t help but feel as if she truly were the most beautiful being on Middle-Earth. And with the way he was looking at her, any on-looker would truly believe it as well. 

Legolas was able to see the physical effects of his word, and though it may have pleased any other elf that his words had been the result of it, the young Prince found himself thinking of other way to make her smile as she was right then.

Or more specifically, smile at him that way.

Silence followed his words, though not an awkward one. On the contrary, it felt strange. Legolas felt as he did before he would face an opponent. Charged and slightly anxious, eager to see what the next few moments would bring, and anticipating the outcome of it as well.

Unable to withstand the silence, or rather his gaze, any longer, Annúneth turned her head to gaze around the circular room. “This was my Mother’s garden. She would come here to clear her mind whenever she would feel distressed over something.” The elleth said, smiling at the sight of a bird that was nesting in a bush nearby. Stepping away from the door, Legolas too looked around, unable to help but admire the natural beauty that surrounded them.

Though what she said, did give him pause. “Is that why you are here. Something distresses you?” He asked, his voice gentle as he came to stand in front of her, just a foot or so away. Annúneth sighed, but nodded. “Will you tell me what it is? If it will ease your mind?” The Prince continued, not wanting to see the glint of worry in her eyes as he was right then.

Her Father had told her never to speak of her Gift to anyone, unless she trusted them completely. She had only met him a few weeks ago, and yet..............

Annúneth knew that she could trust Legolas with her life if it ever came to that.

Sighing, the elleth closed her eyes briefly. “Then perhaps it is best that we sit for this conversation.” So saying, she glided to the ground, settling on the soft grass and looked up, waiting for him to do the same. Annúneth sit closer to the tree trunk so they would have a place to rest their backs against. Once sitting beside her, and mirroring her posture so that they were both leaning against the tree.

He turned his head towards her, waiting patiently as she inhaled deeply before exhaling. “I suppose it all started when my Mother was taken by the Orcs.”

                                             ————————–

“It must’ve been hard. Seeing your Mother like that.”

It was, but Ada was always by my side. As were my brothers and sister.”

“You are fortunate to have so many people who care for you.”

“I know.”

                                             ————————–

“So you thought it was a good idea to steal your Father’s sword?”

“I was only an elfling! I was I to know it would be too heavy to lift.”

“Did you wake up the Master of Arms because you dropped it?”

“Yes, and was branded a would-be-thief by the entire Greenwood.”

                                             ————————–

“I have taken up painting for that very reason.”

“I could help you if you’d like. Mother was an avid painter, and I would sit with her in front of my own canvas with an easel to try and paint. Of course I could hardly sit still for long then ten minutes.”

“You sound as if you were quite a handful.”

“There is no doubt that I was. Even now.

                                             ————————–

“I have tried my best, but I will never get used to how sour grapes taste for me.”

“But if you sprinkle them with some sugar, does it not improve them?”

“The juice inside makes my cheeks ache. And it causes me to tear up.”

“And that is bad?”

                                             ————————–

“Do you miss your Mother?”

“I do, but I know I shall see her when it is my time to sail. Though I am sorry about your Mother.”

“She died an honorable death, fighting for her people.”

“I’m sure her reason to fight was to make sure you lived in a safer world.”

“That is a nice thought. Thank you.”

                                             ————————–

“I believe that the Valar created our Fëa because we each have a purpose here on Middle-Earth. It may not be big, but perhaps it is significant.”

“I suppose one need not change the world to have an impact. One only needs to have impact on another being.”

“Yes.”

                                             ————————–

Time lost all meaning.

How long did they sit there?

How long did they speak?

How much did she tell him about her Gift?

How much did he tell her about his Burdens?

Did she truly manage to keep the names of her family a secret?

Did he truly manage to keep the names of his parents veiled?

By the time they ran out of words to say, their postures had shifted without their knowing.

Annúneth had her head resting on his shoulder, while Legolas had one of her hand gently gripped in between both of his own. His own head was leaning on top of her own. They found themselves drawing comfort from the other’s presence. 

The last time Legolas remembered taking comfort from another had been when his Mother had been alive. It felt strange to rely on someone for something as simple as comfort, and yet, he doubted he would feel at peace with anyone else as he did with Annúneth. Legolas had no idea what it was about her that had him feeling this way. But what he was aware of, was that since that night, when Annúneth had called him a Vagabond and had nearly knocked him out with a frying pan, his life had changed completely.

As the youngest in the family, Annúneth had never had any want for comfort. So then, why was it that with Legolas so near her, with his warmth, his voice and his presence surrounding her, had the elleth feeling as if she had never truly experienced comfort before as she did right then. Sure her Father’s embraces, and her sibling’s comforting words were no comparison. But with Legolas? She felt as if her very Fëa was at peace. Where moments ago her mind had been fluttering in the breeze, like a leaf caught in a disturbing wind, now she felt grounded. Almost as if, someone had taken her hand and pulled her back down before she floated too far out of reach.

If she were to touch the stars, she found herself thinking, she wanted to do so with him.

A bright smile on her lips, she stood, pulling Legolas up with her as she did. The Prince looked at her, slightly confused. Slipping her hand out of his, albeit reluctantly, and stepping towards the lowest branch, Annúneth jumped, catching the strong arm of the tree between her soft palms and hoisting herself up. Once she was sitting atop, she looked down at him, that smile still present on her lips.

Understanding her silent inquiry, Legolas gripped another branch and climbed up as well. Satisfied he would follow her, Annúneth began to climb higher.

Where they had been talking for hours only moments before, their ascent was in complete silence. Every now and then, they would pause, the leaves of the tree allowing them to view one another through the foliage. Their eyes would meet, playful smiles on their lips before they would continue.

Sometimes they would grab for the same branch, and their hands would touch. Giving them both pause as they would try to comprehend what that feeling was that shot through their very being and settled into the deepest recesses of their hearts.

Steady and sure, they both emerged at the top. The tree was high enough to surpass the circular walls of the Garden. Looking around, one could see the entirety of the valley Annúneth called home. It was a view she had seen before, and yet it never ceased to take her breath away. As someone who had never experienced the vision before him, Legolas could not help but stare, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“Even after all the years I’ve lived, I am glad that there are still surprises waiting for me to discover them.” He admitted, finally tearing his eyes away from the view to glance at the elleth next to him. Yet she had her gaze trained towards the night sky.

When had the hour grown so late, neither of them knew.

The stars shone where they always had, since before the Awakening of the Elves, while the moon gleamed where she had been hung in the sky so long ago, with the last flower of Teleprion, the silver tree of Valinor, encased within.

“Have you heard of the tale of how the moon got her dark spots?” She asked, her grey eyes appearing silver under the shine of the full moon. “Yes.” Legolas responded, before adding. “Though I would like to hear it once more, if you were willing to refresh my memory with the tale.”

She rolled her eyes at his obvious teasing, but indulged in his request. “It is said that the moon was once unblemished and crystal clear as an orb, shining down upon Middle-Earth in all her glory. Tilion, the Maia who would guide the moon through the night sky was proud to hear praise of the moon’s beauty and reveled in the task he had been giving, which he did so diligently.” Her hand came to rest atop a branch that Legolas was gripping to keep her balance. Unbeknownst to them, their fingers began to inch closer.

Shifting slightly, which had him leaning closer towards Annúneth to keep his balance, Legolas spoke. “That is until he caught sight of Arien, the Maia who guided the sun across the sky, and fell in love with her.” Smiling softly, Annúneth nodded. “He was so taken by her beauty, they say, the way her golden hair seemed to shine just as bright as the sun. Her kind smile that held the very warmth of the sun. And the joy in her eyes, that seemed to never dim of the laughter that he would hear the moment she would take to the sky.”

Legolas’s gaze found the several dark spots that marred the once clear surface of the silvery orb. “His love for her had him wandering too close to the sun, and the moon was burned.” The Prince whispered, not realizing how the tips of his fingers were now intertwined with Annúneth’s.

The elleth nodded. “So now, he has to keep his distance and love and admire her from afar, though some stories say that he would love nothing more then to be in her presence, just once, even if it would burn him. Which is why, even now, sometimes the Sun and Moon appear in the sky at the same time. Because Tilion wishes nothing more then to catch a glimpse of Arien. Although,” Here her voice took on a slightly dismal tone, as if her very heart was burdened by what happened next. “He learned that he had to keep his distance after an error on his part.”

Her story had him frowning slightly. “Was there a reason behind the story My Lady?” He asked, to which she sighed and turned her gaze to look at him. “Or are you simply referring to the fact that I might burn, should I get too close to you?”

Her gaze snapped towards him, more then a little surprised at how quickly he had picked up on what she’d been trying to say. The wind blew softly, the leaves rustling around them breaking the temporary silence as they continued to look upon one another.

Blue on grey.

Grey on blue.

“A little too late for that.” He finally said, his voice barely above a whisper as his gaze turned tender and soft. Grasping her fingers completely, he raised the hand he’d been touching to his lips, and placed a gentle kiss atop her knuckles. “For I believe I was burned the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Silence followed his confession, and Legolas’s heart sang with joy for having spoken what it had been carrying within it for so long.

“Annúneth.” She said, prompting him to tilt his head at her curiously. “I have burned you.” The elleth explained. “The least I can do is ask you to call me by my name.” Laughing softly to himself, the elf nodded. “Only if you were to call me by mine.” He offered, to which she hummed. “Truth be told, I prefer Vagabond, over Legolas.”

The Prince smiled, turning his body so that he would face her fully. “I do not mind in the slightest.” A mischievous glint lit in his blue eyes, putting Annúneth a little on edge because she knew he loved to tease. “Although I am a little curious as to why you would assume that you are the sun and I, the moon?”

The golden haired elleth lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Well mostly because everyone say that I have a sunny disposition.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk. “While your disposition has been whispered to be as mysterious as the moon.” Nodding in slight approval, with a look of satisfaction on his face, Legolas hummed under his breath. “And acceptable explanation.” He mused, before continuing. “Though I assume it had nothing to do with the fact that you have golden hair and mine is lighter?”

Pursing her lips to keep from giggling at his obvious vexation that the explanation was, in reality, much more simpler then what she had already offered, Annúneth spoke. “That would be a little too obvious. I was simply trying to help your image by comparing you to the moon. Was it not to your satisfaction?” She asked, unknowingly gravitating towards him, her body leaning closer with each whisper of word.

Letting out a sigh that sounded so wounded, Legolas nodded. “Well I suppose I shall accept it.” He said, barely able to get the words out given the smile on his lips. “Albeit reluctantly.” He added in jest. The hand that did not rest atop her own on the branch had lifted up to cup the side of her face, his thumb brushing across her rosy cheek in a gentle caress. Her heart leaped in her chest at the loving touch, while his heart stalled when she consciously tilted her head against his touch.

“The smile on your lips says otherwise.” Annúneth challenged, still leaning closer, barely aware that Legolas was mirroring her movement, the distance between them getting smaller and smaller.

“What smile?” The words were barely out of his mouth when her lips found his, and everything else, even their conversation, became inconsequential.

For truly nothing was of more consequence, then having Annúneth press her lips against his, shy and timid, and yet, sure, certain and unwavering at the same time. Legolas, on his part, returned the sweet gesture with a firm press of his own lips. He was a warrior, and the word gentle had never been one to be associated with him, and yet, in that moment, he was the very epitome of gentleness and tenderness.

The kiss lasted for only a few moments, a simple brush of lips, tentative and cautious.

Just as any new love would be.

And yet they both knew that for them, nothing would ever be the same.

                                             ————————–

There was quite the surprise waiting for them once they descended the tree. Annúneth jumped down from the last branch, right into Legolas’s waiting arms. A joyful laugh echoed in the otherwise silent Garden, which had one of the newcomers smiling to themselves as he watched the two elves simply revel in one another’s presence.

His friend who stood next to him, had finally run out of patience.

“I do not believe it is courteous of a guest to disappear for an entire day without warning.” Thranduil spoke, the amusement in his tone betraying him as to how he truly felt about the situation.

Both Legolas and Annúneth stopped dead in their tracks. Their surprise had more to do with the knowledge that they had been together for an entire day and had not noticed the time passing. “Forgive us, My Lords.” Legolas said, his tone apologetic as he bowed. “Annúneth and I lost track of time as we spoke.” He admitted, though the use of her name had Annúneth smiling softly at him.

A development which did not go unnoticed by the two older Elves.

She turned to her father and smiled apologetically. “I am sorry if I worried you Ada.” No sooner had the words left her mouth when Legolas turned to look at her, utter surprise on his face as he repeated the last word she had spoken. “Ada?” He turned so he could look at her fully. “Lord Elrond is your father?” He asked, which had Annúneth frowning in confusion. “Did you not know?” She asked, to which he quickly shook his head.

Thranduil sighed, knowing exactly how the rest of the conversation would play out. “It is rather unbecoming of a Prince to not know a Lady’s father Legolas. I thought I had taught you better.”

The word Prince seemed to have the effect on Annúneth the same way the Ada had had on Legolas. “Prince?” Her voice echoed against the Garden wall. Having recovered, only barely, from the new information he had been exposed to, Legolas couldn’t help but repeat the words she had spoken to him.

“Did you not know?” He asked, to which Annúneth hit him on the shoulder, though there was no malice behind her act. “Of course not! I would never have called you a Vagabond if I had known.” She paused. “Then again, perhaps I still would have. No I am sure I would have.” A nod of affirmation had her reaffirming her statement.

Elrond chuckled, delighted to see his daughter seemed to take the news in a stride. And yet he was not unaware of the change he could see in his daughter. There seemed to be a glow about her, one that he was sure, she herself was unaware of, for she shared it with Legolas. “It would be best if we were to continue this discussion in my study. Perhaps over some breakfast?” He suggested, already steering Thranduil through the door.

Wordlessly glancing at one another, the two elves, feeling as if they were young elflings once again, about to be chastised, followed after their respective fathers.

                                             ————————–

“I hear you are to leave tomorrow.”

The sound of her voice had him lifting his head from where he had been putting the last of his essentials in his bag. Annúneth stood there in his doorway, dressed in a blue gown. A blue that seemed rather familiar, yet he could not place it. He nodded, the very gesture reluctant as he picked up the belt that held held hid dagger. “As soon as the sun rises, we will be off.” He said, his voice sounding hard even to his own ears.

He felt her walk towards him, his eyes still glued to his best which he was fiddling with more out of the purpose of doing something. “I had hoped that you would stay a little longer, but it is not to be.”

She was standing in front of him now, and her presence was what urged him to lift his head and gaze upon her lovely face.

A sad smiled played across her lips as she held out a bag he didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Just something I thought would help you on your journey.” Opening the bag, he took note of the several items of food nestled within, carefully packed for his use for as long as they would last on the journey back home. He smiled. “Thank you for your kindness, Annúneth.” He said, setting the bag aside. “I shall surely miss it when I return home.”

Annúneth smiled. “Well I should hope so. I would be greatly offended if you did not for then I would have wasted my hours while entertaining you Prince Legolas.” She teased, though he could see that her heart wasn’t truly in it. But he indulged her nonetheless with a smirk on his lips.

“Oh? Was it out of kindness that you would spend your time with me, My Lady?” He returned, raising an eyebrow at her even as she lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Perhaps I simply took pity on you for your lack of friends. You did seem rather lonely when you stole into the kitchen Vagabond.” The Vagabond chuckled at her words as the both of them lapsed into silence.

Inhaling deeply, Annúneth cast her eyes towards the bed where his bags were ready to be saddled for the morning. “You really are leaving.” She muttered, as if the words were only just beginning to make sense to her. Legolas nodded, reaching out to guide her face back to him with a tender stroke of her cheek. “Yes, but I do not wish our last night to be full of sorrow. If you are willing, shall we return to the Garden for one last night of escape before I am to depart?” He asked, offering his arm to her.

Smiling, Annúneth wrapped her hands around his elbow.

“It shall be your honor to escort me Legolas.”

“You had best get off the high horse Annúneth. It wouldn’t do lest you fall.”

“I do not fear the fall, for I know you will be there to catch me. Will you not?”

“Always.”

                                             ————————–

They were to leave.

They were to return to Greenwood that day.

And Annúneth could not bring herself to smile and wish them farewell on their journey.

Why?

Because she did not want to be parted from her Prince, just as he had no desire to part from his Lady.

But they had to.

He had to return to his Kingdom, and she had to stay with her family in Rivendell where she belonged.

She watched from the window as the line of riders departed, with Thranduil in the lead. Legolas should be beside him and yet, she could not see him there. That is until she spied him at the very end of the procession, his mount halted as the Prince looked up towards the window where she perched.

Even from afar, Annúneth could see the devastation in his blue eyes for they mirrored her own. Her hand lifted from the stone railing, to rest atop the gift he had given her.

Finally, Legolas’s horse turned and galloped after the disappearing procession. As she watched him disappear from her sight, Annúneth whispered a soft prayer to the Valar.

That no matter how long they would be apart, they would meet again.

                                             ————————–

Unknown to her, secured with a pretty ribbon was a letter hanging from the branch of the tree they had sat underneath just the night before.

The words within, read thus.

My dear Annúneth,

It is truly with a heavy heart that I say my final words of farewell to you through this letter. I could not say these words in your presence for I was sure, that if I were to speak to you on the day of our departure, then I would not want to leave.

I am sorry to have not made my true feelings to you known, but I promise you, when next we meet, I will not hesitate to show you the true extent of my affections for you. Though that will not stop me from telling you just how much your presence in my life, for the past few months has changed me.

Annúneth, my beloved, even when I tried to stay away, my gaze would remained fixed upon you for I was mesmerized by your beauty and your kind and gentle heart. My heart was full of joy for the simply pleasure of being by your side. Perhaps that is why I did not tell you of my true feelings.

Not a day will go by when I will not think of you. I will dream of the day we would sit by the lake as we had planned, lost in one another, and let the rest of the world disappear around us.

Your name shall be a prayer upon my lips, and each night I will ask the Valar to grant me my wish, and have you by my side soon. That is the only prayer I shall live by until the next time I am your presence.

And like the moon and the sun in the sky, we shall remain by each other's side.

I was, am, and forever will be,

Yours,

Legolas

                                             ————————–

Unknown to him, hidden between the loaves of bread in the bag she had given him, was a letter that she had written for him.

The words within, read thus.

My beloved Legolas,

How can I put into words what my heart has been bursting to say. To shout from the very treetops of my true feelings for you and how they have been imprinted within me for all eternity. You have not yet departed as I write this letter, and already my heart aches for it is aware of the impending absence.

I have lived a sheltered life, unaware of the world beyond my home, yet you have opened my eyes to a world that lies beyond home, and I pray that I will be able to explore all of it with you by my side. For there is no one else I would have as my guide in this world then you Legolas.

I hope you will not think of me too bold when I say, that it matters not what I may see in my visions, for your soul, your Fëa, is my shelter. I have no desire to be away from you for longer then necessary. When next we meet, I hope you will make me yours, as I hope to make you mine forevermore.

Not a day will go by when I shall not think of you, for my reason in this world is now you. Legolas you are within me, my heart, my mind, and my Fëa until the end of days. Should the world end, I shall be content if I were in your embrace.

I trust you to keep my heart safe my Vagabond. For my heart cannot find peace without you. May the Valar keep you safe on your travels. Be safe My Prince.

I hope like the moon and sun in the sky, we shall soon be by each other's side.

I was, am, and forever will be,

Yours,

Annúneth

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Thranduil NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very caring and sweet. Wants to spend a lot of time wrapping his arms around his partner, like a mother koala. Will want to carry his partner to the bath and take his time with a gentle cloth

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, his hands and fingers. He loves how both elegant and powerful they can be. He adorns them with regal looking rings. Loves how they can give his partner both pleasure and pain

On a partner I feel like he loves hips. Great place to grab onto to manoeuvre and hold on tight while he’s fucking hard. Also a great place to anchor you as he holds you, running his fingers from the top of the rib cage all the way to the bottom of the hip and squeezing it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Loves to cum on his partner and will just look at them covered in cum for a bit while his breathing starts to calm down. He becomes almost amazed at how his partner looks

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I’ve seen heaps of people say how he wants to fuck his partner on his throne but I believe he wants to give oral on his throne. Is usually dominant but the almost taboo of having someone else sit on his throne and he be on his knees is something that always feels new and exciting to him

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He had a small handful of experiences with partners before his wife but mainly just one night stands as a sexy young prince. I believe he got all of his experience and talent from his wife. Big hoe with one person sort of thing

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style I’d say. Being able to control the pace so much and grab as much of his partner as he’d like. Pulling them up to have them flush against against his chest while he can grab at them too.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not very goofy. Can be cute and sweet while his partner sits on his lap and he plays with them but never really goofy. Usually pretty serious in the heat of the moment but can switch to sweet and soft quickly.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very groomed and sparse golden hair

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It depends. He likes to fuck hard and isn’t usually very romantic in the act but he definitely can be. If his partner needs him in that way he is more than happy to hold them, kiss them and sweet talk them while he makes love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not that often. Barely ever if he’s in a relationship and about once or twice a week if he’s not.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Size and Kingly kink.

If it’s a human partner then there’s definitely a size/dominance kink, wanting to be in charge and dominant.

Would use his power and Royal position to push his dominance further. Making his partner call him ‘my king’ and ‘your highness’ really gets him going

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His throne or his big royal bed. Wants to be left alone with just him and his partner and be able to fuck however he likes.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When his adrenaline is raised from either training or battle and he’s finding his partner and fucking them hard.

Seeing his partner wearing formal/regal wear makes him want to reck them, ruining their beautifully done hair and pristine outfit.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No weapons, even a paddle. He never wants to make his partner bleed and he wants to be able to properly control the pain he gives, so hand spanking instead of a paddle every time

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves to both give and receive.

When he gives he holds his partner down and craves to overstimulate them with his mouth. His partner will never cum only once if he’s giving them oral.

He prefers to sit instead of laying down when receiving. Either on his throne or a big armchair. Loves to look down onto his partner and stroke their hair and talk dirty. He isn’t opposed to face fucking but prefers his partner take their time so he can tease them while they pleasure him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough when he’s fucking but slow and sensual with oral

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

The version of quickies that he likes is dragging his partner away to somewhere quiet and using his fingers and hands to make them cum before going about his day. Sometimes he likes to see how many times he can quickly make them cum between duties.



R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Doesn’t really like to take many risks. He is king and while he likes to degrade his partner at times, he does keep his focus on keeping them safe and away from prying eyes.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He will go as many rounds as his partner can take. If he takes a human partner he likes to go until they just pass out from pleasure. Can hold off from cumming for a long time but also doesn’t really have much of a refraction period so he can just keep going and going

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

The only toy he really has are plugs because he likes to bring his partner pleasure himself. Will put the plug in his partner and make them wear it at a fancy event.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Loooovvvveeesss to tease. The teasing is done with light touches and whispered words in public. Drive his partner crazy while he acts so innocent and will never be caught in what he’s doing

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Lots of powerful grunts and looottttsss of dirty talk. He growls pretty loud when he cums but mainly lots of grunts and groans.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If his partner is more of a casual thing he’d never be submissive but if he’s in a committed relationship with someone he loves to be taken care of in a submissive position. If his partner is AFAB he will want to get pegged and will want to suck and lick their strap.

In a committed relationship he loves his partner to be a soft dom every now and then. Not often, probably like once or twice a year.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

A lot longer then average but pretty average width

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

When not in a relationship it’s about average but in a relationship it goes right up. Wanting to fuck like every second day or something.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not that quickly at all. Will always wait until his partner falls asleep and is asleep for about 15-20 minutes before he even tries to drift off

[two-white-butterflies]

★ — cassandra | thranduil

Description: Cassandra: shining upon man, a name bestowed by the mortals that surrounded your husband's kingdom. Being bestowed the gift of foresight, you have seen things in motion - that is until a tragedy happens. One that you did not foresee.

"What is it like to be a prophet? Everywhere Cassandra went she found that she was already there."

Pairing: thranduil/reader. (elrond's daughter)

Genre: angst [major character death]

Warning: I make my own timeline.

There were many things in the darkness that stayed unseen. The darkness plagued your dreams, a tangible darkness that watched in the background beside you as the events unfolded. As a child, the dreams were tame - Elladan breaking your mother's favorite vase or Elrohir scraping his knees while running down the halls.

When you grew older, the dreams turned grim. The tangible darkness that used to watch beside you now became a character of these dreams. It played in your head repeatedly; Greenwood marred by darkness, the elves fleeing to Valinor.

It haunted you.

"My child." Ada places a guiding hand on your shoulder. One of the few elves that shared your burden of foresight. "Darling," he whispered seeing the tears pool on the corners of your eyes.

Despite his gentle nudging, all attempts of reviving you from the drown - the trance does not break. You remain inside your dream. Elrond furrows his eyebrows, sensing fear and sadness in you.

"Does she wake?" Elladan leans on the doorframe.

This has been a common occurrence in the household. When the moon is in clarity, and the members in deep sleep - they get stirred awake by the sound of your tears - by the sound of objects falling from your room. "No," Elrond responds seeing your tight grip on the bedsheet - mumbling curses that he could not fathom.

A sigh escapes the younger twin's mouth.

He takes a step towards the bed, sitting beside the plump pillows that surrounded her body. "You must jump off the boat now," he mumbled, reaching for your clenched fists - opening it slowly. "When the rain comes we'll prepare the barrels, but awaken and enjoy the warmth of the sun." he pleaded.

Out of all the siblings, Elladan admired you the most. His oldest sister who had a gentle disposition and a caring voice. He did not like seeing you in pain; haunted by the inevitable.

Almost instantly, your eyes opened.

Father tries to calm you down but you are haunted. You tried to break free from the haunting, but something prevents you to speak. That tangible darkness that continued to hold you back.

You clawed at your forearm. In disbelief of what's to come.

"Naneth," you managed to whisper out. At the end of the night, you weren't alone in the haunting.

Soon after the prophecy, your father called for all his soldiers to trek the dangerous road that your mother was travelling on. Elladan tried to ask you questions, but there were no words that left your mouth. You tried to speak, tried to open your mouth - but no sound escaped.

'Everywhere Cassandra ran, she found that she was already there.'

A month later, Elladan and Elrohir arrived carrying the shell of your mother. All remnants of self-control leaves your body.

"She'll live. Your father is the greatest healer in all of Arda." your grandsire comforts, you burrow deeper into the sheets.

Celeborn takes a deep breath.

"There are scars that cannot be healed by time." the first time you spoke in months. You turned your body to look at him. Seeing the very same fear, sadness and anger in his eyes.

There were titles bestowed to people with deceased parents. There were titles bestowed to people with deceased lovers. But there were no titles bestowed to those with deceased children, for they shall be title-less and the greatest honors be taken away.

The following day, mother left for the Grey Havens. She left no comforting words or letters, but she kissed your foreheads in the middle of the night and father escorted her to the shores.

"My child," Galadriel smiles warmly, seeing you leaning on the doorframe as she broke her fast with your siblings. "- sit, you must eat." her voice was filled with tenderness.

Then suddenly memories of your mother's imprisonment flash through your eyes - your appetite is ruined for years to come. Galadriel tries to open her mouth again but you run away.

You run away from the dreams that plague your mind.

"Will she be alright?" Arwen inquires. They were used to your terrible dreams, even admired the times that you'd push through with a smile on your face, but this reaction was new to them.

Fleeing and disassociating with reality.

With their mother gone and their oldest sister drowning.

The family was lost too.

Lady Galadriel takes a sip of her tea, watching as her good-son attempts to mask his sorrow. That's what they were all doing, anyways. Hiding their grief because it's much easier than facing the truth, that Celebrian is in the Grey Havens and they are alone.

Alone again.

Alone until they decide to flee; it will be a long time. It will take centuries and thousands of years.

"She must come with me." she breathes.

Elrond's eyebrows merge together. "My daughter must stay here." he argued, not wanting another member of his family to be out of reach.

"She dreamt of her mother. She's seen the atrocities of which Celebrian refuses to speak of - I know that you have experience with this too but her dreams are different, not detached verses of massacres and war but personal deaths. She needs my help, and the love that I bare for her is deep and true. I feel her pain." Galadriel continues. She wanted to protect you. Forever.

"- my daughter was scarred, wounds inflicted upon her soul. I fear that these dreams may happen again, that she may dream of a future that we cannot see - and we'll lose her." she whispered.

Elrond reluctantly agrees with Galadriel's plan.

Your father was right!

Lothlorien filled you with tranquility. A feeling of safety that you've lost to the abyss. It felt like your mother's embrace, caging you and preventing the fall. Lady Galadriel continued monitoring you - keeping the darkness at bay, ensuring that you wouldn't remember your dreams even if they were to happen at night.

Soon after, happiness returned.

One night, while you were sleeping - your dreams were able to seep through the web of your grandmother's enchantment, and you dreamt of an elven-prince.

He was fair in the face, his hair was long and golden. He wore a crown of flowers and his voice was like honey to the ear. His name was Prince Thranduil of Greenwood, and he was to be yours.

(AMON LANC)

"What causes your joy, meleth?" Thranduil wraps his arms around your waist, allowing the moonlight to illuminate your features.

"I remembered something." you hummed, burying your face in his chest. The smell of vanilla and sandalwood invades your nose. You continued inhaling his scent, a scent that reminded you of home. "Pray tell," he whispered - allowing the peace to settle in your chambers. "The birth of our twins," you smiled.

The happiest day of your life. Erynlas and Legolas were born, they were born in the longest summer of Greenwood. Your father told you that it was a good omen, that your children would bring good harvest. The locals of Laketown were quick to send gifts down the river for the elfling, and all was well in Arda.

"I remember your panic-stricken face." you pointed out, he responded with a small chuckle. "I was afraid, but seeing our children brought relief." he admitted.

"We must enjoy it while it lasts. I remember Elladan and Elrohir, they grew up swiftly and my parents were left longing for the days when they were elflings." you continued. "Our children inherited your gentle disposition," he noted.

"- and none of your petulance." you were quick to retort.

"None yet." he smiled, as if knowing something that I didn't.

There was silence between them; the kind of silence that persevered between two people who understood one another.

"You were dreaming, yesterday." he opened his mouth, unable to see your face that was buried in his chest. "Dreaming about what?" you raised an eyebrow, long having forfeited the power of remembering your dreams. "You were mumbling things, kept saying 'no'." he reported, concern was evident in his features.

As much as you tried to remember the dreams, you couldn't.

"Was it your foresight that made you dream such?" he inquired. Your eyebrows merged together, and that familiar tightness on your chest returned. What if something was to happen on your family?

You had to exhaust every possible option to keep them safe. "I-I don't know, but it could've been just a nightmare." you comforted him. You pulled away from his embrace, opting to stare at his face.

"- and if it wasn't then I promise to keep us safe." you promised.

"I promise the same." he vowed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "- but you must rest, for we shall have an early morning tomorrow." he noted, reminding you that you were about to leave Amon Lanc to escape the darkness that wished to take hold of Greenwood.

You awakened in the middle of the night. Lifting the covers off your body, you frowned, not seeing your husband so you decide to tiptoe towards the children's rooms. A groan escapes your mouth, feeling that horrible headache forming at the back of your head. Could this be? This must be another one of your dreams.

Your husband was telling you about the words that escaped your mouth whilst sleeping. Was the truth about to reveal itself?

You walked through the empty hallways, seeing no guards on their post. Peculiar. Your hands danced through the fabric of the tapestries that littered the walls. Weaves of forests and elves.

Even art created by Thranduil.

You entered the Twins' bedroom, seeing them slumber peacefully in their beds. Erynlas, the heir, inherited your husband's features. Her long flowing locks and piercing blue eyes, a copy of your husband.

Legolas, was the same, although he had your eyes and your demeanor. He was always patient, allowing his sister to play with his toys, not shedding a single tear when she grabs it from his hands.

You pressed a kiss to both of their foreheads.

If this was a dream, then why isn't anything happening?

Have your dreams evolved to find a different form? That tangible darkness wasn't watching or standing beside you. The darkness wasn't in this room. Have you found peace?

You shouldn't have spoken too soon, because a second later a dagger was pressed to her neck. "Look what I've found," the human opened his mouth with a chuckle. They were mercenaries. You've seen that crest before, but you couldn't remember where.

"Idiot, the bounty says that we're supposed to kill the prince." the other man rolled his eyes, but the man holding a dagger to your neck chuckled. "I think this ones an elf, a princess methinks." he took a slice of your neck, allowing little blood to trickle down your nightgown.

This scene has already played before, in your dreams, but you couldn't remember it - you couldn't remember until it's already happened. And wherever you went, you found that you were already there. "I wonder how much they'd pay for her head." he pondered.

"The Lurgburz would give us a fortune, but we were sent here to kill an heir. She is not an heir." the other man responded. You wanted to speak, but the darkness prevents you from raising your voice. 'I am an heir too. Lord Elrond's.' but the visions make you mute.

There were tears spilling out of your eyes. You felt weak. Hopeless against them.

"Then let's kill the prince's heir. Much easier than killing the prince. He's a great warrior, I've heard and if his wife's awake. Won't he be awake too?" the man continued holding the dagger on your neck.

"Which means that we have to make this quick." the other man reached for the dagger in his pockets. "Which one's the heir?" the man stared at you, and he'll forever be haunted by that look in your eyes. Red, wide, in fear.

"No," you mumbled watching as the other man stands in the middle of their cribs. "If you don't tell us then we'll kill them both." he threatened and air runs out of your lungs.

"No," you continued to mumble. They found joy in toying with you. They found joy in threatening a creature that was older than them. The other man lifted Erynlas' blankets, seeing a pink nightgown on her body. "This one's the heir," the other man stated.

"We should kill the boy, a boy is more valuable than a girl." the man surmised, forcing his mortal standards unto your elvish ones. "No, not the boy." you whispered - your subconscious knowing something that your conscious mind didn't.

Your subconscious knew that Legolas was the key to Arda's freedom. That he'd be a part of the Fellowship, and thus, he couldn't die. "She speaks," the other man teased, raising his dagger pointing it on your daughter's neck. And the tangible darkness that used to haunt you, that used to watch beside you, became a guiding hand.

Told you to grab Legolas and run.

The man's grip on you softened, he walked towards your daughter's crib. "No, no...." you mumbled, staring at the room once covered with leaves and little toys that you bought from Laketown.

You reluctantly reach for Legolas in his bed. Lifting him off the mattress while he continued his slumber. The darkness told you that Erynlas was born to die, while your son was born to live.

You walked down the stairs, about to return to your chambers but the darkness stops you from doing that. Instead leading you towards King Oropher's chambers. You open his doors - to your surprise they weren't locked tonight.

King Oropher stirs awake, seeing a figure enter his chambers. "Good morrow?" he paused, thinking that it was his handmaidens that had come to wake him. But once his vision turns back to normal, he realizes that it was you - and he sees the tears in your eyes, lips mumbling words that he could not fathom.

He repeats your name, seeing you sit on the floor - rocking your body back and forth. He was about to speak again, but you prevent him from doing so. "They took the heir." you cried out - unable to even speak like a mother, in fear, forced to speak like your perpetrators.

A/N: Made for my own self-indulgence. Inspired by EP1 of HOTDS2.

[vintagerivendel]

VINTAGERIVENDEL MASTERLIST

Adar, Gil-galad, Glorfindel, Haldir, Vorohil, Lindir.. below the cut.

ADAR

Stories

Of starlight and madnes

Chapter one

A reunion ( to be posted

One shots

TBD

Gil-Galad

Stories

Beating heart

Chapter one ( to be posted )

Oneshots

Vorohil

Stories

None listed yet

Oneshots

A light in the dark ( to be posted )

Thranduil

Stories

Protected secret

Chapter one tbd

Oneshots

TBD

Glorfindel

Stories

Oneshots

Haldir

Stories

Oneshots

Lindir

Stories

Oneshots

[gulnarsultan]

🍃İmagine. 🍃

Gandalf says Thranduil has no right to force you into a relationship.

[bookwormjust]

Imagine: Thranduil’s Love

The grand halls of Thranduil’s palace shimmered with the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the intricately carved windows, casting silver patterns on the polished stone floor. The gentle rustle of leaves from the ancient trees outside created a soft symphony that seemed to pulse with the heartbeat of the Woodland Realm. Despite the grandeur of the Elvenking’s abode, there was a serene quiet that made the place feel more like a hidden sanctuary than a fortress.

You stood by one of the large arching windows, gazing out at the twilight-draped forest. The trees, ancient and wise, swayed softly under the cool night breeze. Your long, curly brown hair cascaded down your back, catching the faint light as it danced in soft waves. You could feel the lingering magic of the woods, a gentle hum that seemed to echo with the stories of those who had walked these lands before.

Thranduil approached silently, his presence like a soft breeze, gentle but commanding. His silver hair fell in perfect waves over his shoulders, his regal robes flowing with his every step. He had the kind of beauty that was both ethereal and daunting, a presence that commanded attention and respect. But when his eyes found you, they softened, a warmth spreading across his usually composed features.

“Mae govannen, meleth nîn,” he greeted softly, his voice a melodic whisper that seemed to wrap around you like a warm embrace. He always spoke to you in Elvish, the language flowing as naturally from him as the wind through the trees, each word laced with affection and tenderness that he reserved only for you.

You turned to him, your lips curving into a gentle smile. “Mae govannen, Thranduil.” His name felt like a song on your lips, a familiar melody that had become the rhythm of your heart.

He stepped closer, his gaze sweeping over you with a quiet reverence. Thranduil’s eyes, sharp as a hawk’s and yet softened by the depths of his love, held a thousand unspoken words. You were the only one who ever saw this side of him—the side that was not the aloof, powerful king of the Woodland Realm, but simply Thranduil, the elf whose heart was bound to yours for eternity.

Thranduil reached out, his hand gentle as he tucked a stray curl behind your ear. “Ú-caro naur, meleth nîn,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the delicate curve of your cheek. His words were like a tender caress, their meaning sinking deep into your soul. Do not fear, my love.

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his palm grounding you in this moment. “Man mathach?” you asked softly, your voice carrying a hint of concern. How are you? The weight of the crown was heavy, and you knew that the burdens of the realm often left shadows on his heart.

Thranduil sighed, his expression softening further as he traced the outline of your face with his eyes. “Cenin tegi nadad, anuir a achenor. A aníron le, meleth nîn.” I carry two burdens—forever the crown, and my love for you. But I desire only you, my love.

There was a fragility in his words, a rare vulnerability that he only ever allowed himself to show when you were alone. You knew the weight of his past, the scars that ran deep from battles both on the field and within his heart. And yet, despite the centuries of loss and hardship, he stood here, offering you all that he was and all that he had left to give.

“I feel it too,” you whispered, your hand moving to cover his where it rested against your cheek. “Your love is all I will ever need.”

Thranduil’s eyes searched yours, as if he were committing every detail of this moment to memory. The flickering light of the fire illuminated his sharp features, casting gentle shadows that highlighted the quiet strength etched into every line of his face. He was a king, a warrior, a guardian of the forest—but here, with you, he was simply a husband, a lover who had given his heart fully and irrevocably.

“Gwedhithon le anann, nín meleth,” he murmured, his voice a soft promise that echoed in the quiet space between you. I will bind myself to you forever, my love.

Thranduil leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His touch was reverent, as though he were handling the most delicate of treasures. He drew you closer, his arms encircling you with a protective warmth that spoke of an unbreakable bond—a bond forged not only in love but in understanding, in shared loss, and in the quiet moments that you held sacred between you.

The pain of his past was a shadow that lingered, the memory of his lost love a scar that would never fully fade. But you were not a replacement, nor a mere echo of what once was. You were his true mate, his heart’s only desire in this lifetime and beyond. His one and only, as the ancient Elven love songs spoke of, the other half of his soul that he had found once again.

“Ú-moe edhored,” he whispered against your hair, holding you tightly as if you might disappear if he let go. I will not lose you. His voice was steady, but you could hear the unspoken fears laced beneath his words, the quiet desperation of a heart that had known too much loss.

You lifted your face to his, your fingers gently brushing against the strong line of his jaw. “I’m here,” you assured him, your voice a steady whisper that cut through the lingering silence. “And I will always be here. We have eternity, Thranduil. And I choose you—now and always.”

A rare smile tugged at his lips, the kind that reached his eyes and softened the regal lines of his face. “Elye aníra amin ve’ quessir ten’ naur, a aníron amin ú mereth an gwend an le,” he said, his words carrying the weight of a promise only an elf could truly make. You are the flame that reignites the fire in me, and I want no love but yours.

He kissed you then, slow and tender, a kiss that spoke of promises kept and a future intertwined with the threads of fate. His lips were soft against yours, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he were pouring all the love and devotion he held for you into that single, lingering kiss.

When he finally pulled away, Thranduil rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own in the quiet intimacy of the moment. “Le melon,” he whispered, the words soft and filled with a depth of emotion that transcended the simplicity of the phrase. I love you.

And you knew, in that space where only the two of you existed, that Thranduil’s love was a constant, an unbreakable thread that wove your hearts together, bound by fate and the unyielding strength of an elven soul’s true devotion.

[thewulf]

Entwined Realms || Legolas

Summary: Request: So I thought about this idea with Legolas x reader where the reader is the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn (which makes her princess of Lothlorien and a very high elf) and she is nervous because its commonly known that Galadriel and Thranduil dont like each other (she is still his superior but you get the point) and the reader and Legolas have a dinner or some council or something together with their parents.

A/N: This was one of my favs to write. Just love everything LOTR... please keep them coming! Thank you for the request @lillisummers

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.1k +

TW: Talks of war/death

In the timeless realm of Lothlórien, you, the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, walked among the golden trees with a heavy heart filled with the weight of ancient grudges. It had been many years since you last tread upon these familiar paths, for you had spent much of your time in Rivendell, aiding in the healing of those who bore the scars of war.

As a princess of the high elves, you bore the burden of your lineage with grace. Yet the tension between your mother and Thranduil, the Elvenking of Mirkwood, weighed heavily upon you. The animosity between them was no secret, and you often found yourself caught in the midst of their disagreements. You were torn between loyalty to your mother and the desire for unity among your people after the war of the ring. Your return to Lothlórien had been sudden, called back by your father during the darkest days of the war. The news of battles raging across middle earth had filled you with dread. Yet, you knew that your place was by your family's side, lending whatever aid you could in the struggle against the darkness.

Despite the discord that lingered between your realms you held onto hope, believing in the power of unity to overcome adversity. The memories of Celebrian's capture and torture haunted you still. She drove your determination to see an end to the suffering that had plagued your people for so long.

As you walked beneath the golden canopy of the trees, you found solace in the familiar sights and sounds of Lothlórien. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the branches. They spoke to you of peace and beauty, reminding you of all that was worth fighting for in this world. Your steps carried you towards a familiar spot. The quiet glade where the gravestones of those fallen in battle lay. The air was hushed. The only sound was the soft whisper of leaves and the gentle trickle of water from the nearby streams.

Stopping by the gravestones, you traced your fingers over each weathered stone, feeling the weight of loss settle upon your heart. Here, beneath the earth, lay the brave souls who had given their lives in service of a greater cause. A cause that you had fought for alongside them. Your thoughts turned to Haldir, the gallant Marchwarden who had stood by your side in the darkest of times. His laughter, his kindness, his unwavering loyalty… they were memories that you held dear, memories that would live on long after he had passed from this world. At one point you were convinced you would marry him but that was before he was taken so suddenly from you.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself a moment of silence. A moment to remember those who had been taken from you too soon. Their faces flashed before your eyes, friends, fighters, and loved ones alike. Each one leaving behind an indelible mark upon your soul. And yet, amidst the sorrow, there was also hope. Hope for a future where their sacrifices would not be in vain. Where the darkness would be banished for good and the light would shine so brightly once more. With a silent prayer upon your lips, you vowed to carry their memory with you always, to honor their legacy in all that you did.

As you stood amidst the gravestones, lost in memories and reflections, a soft voice broke through the silence. She was calling your name. You turned to see your mother, Galadriel, approaching with a gentle smile upon her lips. Her eyes, always so wise and knowing, held a depth of understanding that eased the ache in your heart.

"Y/n," she said, her voice like the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind, "I have been searching for you. It is good to see you home again. You look well my love."

You returned her smile, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you at the sight of her familiar face. "It is good to be home, Mother," you replied, stepping forward to embrace her.

Galadriel held you close, tight. Her arms a reassuring embrace amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling within you. "You have been missed, my dear," she said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As you pulled away, Galadriel's gaze softened. Her eyes filled with a mixture of pride and affection. "There is much to discuss," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "But first, I have news that I believe will bring you much joy."

Curiosity piqued, you listened as Galadriel spoke of the upcoming marriage between your niece, Arwen, and Aragorn, the King of Gondor. The news filled you with a sense of anticipation, the prospect of a wedding bringing a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that had shrouded middle earth for so long. "I would be honored to attend," you said. Your heart swelling with love for your family and excitement for the joyous occasion to come.

Galadriel smiled, her eyes sparkling with pride. "I had no doubt that you would," she said, her voice tinged with warmth. "Come, let us return to Caras Galadhon and begin preparations. There is much to do, and little time to waste." She motioned you to follow her.

With a nod of agreement, you fell into step beside your mother. It felt as though the weight of grief and loss lightened by the promise of love and celebration on the horizon. As you walked the golden light of Lothlórien illuminated your path guiding you towards a future filled with possibility.

Too quickly the day of celebration arrived. The grand halls of Minas Tirith were adorned with banners and flowers, filling the air with a sense of festivity and anticipation. You, dressed in your finest elven attire, mingled with the guests. Your heart was aflutter with excitement and nerves for your niece and the King of Gondor. Amidst the bustling crowd, your eyes scanned the faces of those gathered taking in the sight of strangers and acquaintances alike. And then your gaze met that of a mysterious elven stranger across the ornate courtyard who you did not recognize.

His eyes were a captivating shade of blue. They held a warmth and kindness that drew you in, sending a shiver down your spine. For a brief moment it felt as though the world around you had faded away leaving only you and this enigmatic stranger in a universe of your own making. But as quickly as the moment had come, it was gone. Broken by the sound of laughter and music drifting through the air you tore your gaze away. Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of curiosity and excitement, heart racing with the memory of that brief but electrifying encounter.

Though you knew not who he was, nor what fate had in store for you. You couldn't shake the feeling that this chance meeting was somehow significant. And as you allowed yourself to be swept away by the joyous festivities you couldn't help but wonder about the identity of the mysterious elven stranger who had captured your attention with a single glance.

As the celebration unfolded you found yourself standing beside Arwen, basking in the glow of her happiness as she greeted guests and well-wishers. The air was filled with laughter and music. The joyous atmosphere infectious as people celebrated the union of Arwen and Aragorn. But amidst the revelry your attention kept drifting back to the beautiful blonde elf who had caught your eye earlier. He stood amidst a group of guests, his presence commanding and his gaze holding a quiet intensity that seemed to draw you in.

Unable to contain your curiosity any longer you turned to Arwen with a hint of nervousness in your voice. "Arwen," you began, pointing subtly towards the mysterious elf, "who is that?"

Arwen followed your gaze, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she noticed your interest in the stranger. "Ah, him," she said, her tone tinged with mystery. "That is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood."

Legolas. The name echoed in your mind. Though you knew little about him there was something about the way he carried himself, the way his eyes seemed to hold a thousand untold stories that intrigued you beyond measure. As Arwen spoke of Legolas' exploits and noble deeds you found yourself captivated by the tales of his courage and valor. And though you knew it was foolish to be so taken with a stranger, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to him. Something that called to you on a level you couldn't quite understand.

With a grateful smile you thanked Arwen for indulging your curiosity. Though your mind was already consumed with thoughts of the mysterious Prince of Mirkwood. And as you turned your attention back to the festivities you couldn't help but wonder what secrets lay hidden beneath the surface of the captivating blonde elf who had captured your attention with a single glance.

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere grew more relaxed. You found yourself drawn into the lively conversations and laughter that filled the air.

As if he had known your every thought, he had come right up to you. A charming smile playing on his lips as he offered you a goblet of wine. "Care for some wine, my lady?" he asked, his voice smooth and all too inviting.

Grateful for the distraction you accepted the goblet with a smile, the cool liquid soothing the nerves that had been fluttering in your stomach. "Thank you," you replied, taking a sip and relishing the taste of the rich, fruity wine.

As you savored the wine, Legolas took a seat beside you. His eyes alight with curiosity as he extended his hand in introduction. "I am Legolas," he said, his tone warm and genuine. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

You felt a rush of excitement at the sound of his name, "And I am Y/n," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness that you quickly tried to mask.

Legolas smiled warmly at you, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he raised his own goblet in a silent toast. "Well then, Y/n, here's to new acquaintances and delightful conversations," he spoke.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself drawn into conversation with Legolas. His easy charm and quick wit putting you at ease. Despite your initial nervousness you soon found yourself laughing and chatting with him as if you had known each other for years. With each passing moment you felt yourself growing more and more enchanted by Legolas. His presence filling you with a sense of warmth and belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time. Not since before your sister had set sail. And as you shared stories and laughter with the captivating Prince of Mirkwood you couldn't help but wonder what adventures lay in store for you both in the days to come.

When the topic turned to your family, you couldn't help but feel a pang of apprehension, unsure of how he would react upon learning the truth. "Your parents must be proud of you," Legolas remarked, his voice sincere as he glanced around at the grandeur of Minas Tirith. "To have a daughter as kind and courageous as you."

You smiled, touched by his words. Though a part of you hesitated to reveal your true lineage. "Thank you, Legolas," you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "My parents... they are indeed proud, though our family is not without its complexities."

Legolas cocked his head with curiosity shining bright in his eyes. "Complexities?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for his reaction. "My parents are Celeborn and Galadriel," you confessed, watching closely for any sign of recognition or judgment in his expression.

To your surprise, Legolas' eyes widened in genuine surprise, his gaze softening with understanding. "Galadriel," he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. "The Lady of Light herself. And Celeborn, the Lord of Lothlórien."

You nodded, relieved by his reaction. "Yes, though our family is not without its challenges," you admitted, your voice growing quiet. "There are... tensions between my parents and certain others in Middle-earth." You knew he knew, and he knew you knew. The two of you were dancing around your parents disdain for the other.

Legolas' expression grew somber. A shadow passing over his features. "I understand," he said, his tone tinged with empathy. "My own father, Thranduil, can be... difficult at times."

You felt a surge of empathy for Legolas knowing all too well the challenges that could arise from strained familial relationships. "It seems we are not so different after all," you said. A small smile playing at your lips.

Legolas returned your smile, his eyes warm and understanding. "Indeed," he said, his voice gentle. "But perhaps together, we can find a way to bridge the divide between our families."

Touched by his sincerity you could only keep grinning at him like a fool. "I would like that, Legolas," you replied. Your heart swelled with gratitude for the bond that was beginning to form between you.

As the night wore on into the wee hours of the morning you and Legolas found yourselves drawn deeper into each other's company. The hours quickly slipping away unnoticed as you laughed and talked beneath the starlit sky. The connection between you grew stronger with each passing moment. A bond of friendship and understanding blossoming into something deeper and more profound. Unfortunately, the celebration began to wind down. You found yourselves reluctant to part ways. The prospect of saying goodbye filling you with a sense of melancholy. "Perhaps we could extend our stay in Minas Tirith," Legolas suggested, his voice tinged with a hint of worry as if you wouldn’t accept. "There is still so much more to see and do. I have not seen this city without war disparaging it."

You nodded eagerly, the idea of spending more time with Legolas filling you with a sense of joy and excitement. "I would like that very much," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "There is still so much more we have yet to see. You distracted me tonight."

And so, you and Legolas remained in Minas Tirith for longer than planned, seizing every opportunity to steal away moments alone together amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. Whether wandering the streets hand in hand or sharing quiet conversations in secluded corners. Each moment spent in Legolas' company felt like a precious treasure, a memory to be cherished for eternity.

As your extended stay in Minis Tirith came to an end the bond between you and Legolas deepened further than you could have imagined. Your hearts intertwining in a dance as old as time itself. One evening beneath the stars after your going away dinner the two of you sat together in the quiet solitude of the gardens, surrounded by the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of crickets. The words you had been longing to say spilled forth from your lips.

"Legolas," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "there is something I must confess to you." It truly was now or never for you did not know the next time you would see the elf that had captured your heart so quickly.

Legolas turned to you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Yes, Y/n?" he replied, his voice soft and reassuring.

"I know this is quick,” you began, your voice soft and hesitant, "And we tend to do this slow, but I must admit... I really like you. More than a friend would."

You glanced away, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you awaited his response. But when you dared to meet his gaze once more you found Legolas looking at you with a tender smile. His eyes filled with a warmth that mirrored your own feelings.

"Y/n," he said softly, reaching out to gently take your face in his hand, "your honesty means the world to me. I too have come to care for you deeply as well. As more than a friend would."

Your heart soared at his words. A sense of joy flooding through you at the knowledge that your feelings were reciprocated. And as you sat together in the quiet beauty of the gardens you knew that your bond with Legolas was something truly special. It was the beginning of a love story that was just beginning to unfold.

You didn’t want the night to end so you kept your wandering through the gardens. "Legolas," you began, your voice tinged with concern, "what do you think about... our families?"

Legolas glanced at you. His gaze thoughtful. "Ah, our esteemed parents," he replied with a wry smile. "Stubborn as ancient oaks and twice as difficult to move."

You couldn't help but laugh at his analogy, feeling a sense of relief at his lighthearted approach to the situation. "Yes, that's one way to put it," you agreed. A smile playing at the corners of your lips.

"But," Legolas continued, his tone turning more serious, "I believe they will come around in time. After all, love has a way of softening even the hardest of hearts."

You nodded feeling a flicker of hope kindling within you. "I hope you're right," you replied, leaning closer to him. "I just want them to see... how much we care for each other."

Legolas placed a comforting arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer to him. "They will, Y/n," he said softly, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "And until then, we'll just have to prove them wrong together."

As your time in Minas Tirith drew to a close, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was time for your parents and Legolas to meet. Despite the tension between your families, you were determined to show them that love knew no bounds, and that their differences could be set aside in the name of happiness.

On the morning that both of you were to depart you knew what you had to do. "Legolas," you began. Your voice tinged with nervousness, "I know it's unconventional, but... what if you and your father were to visit Lothlórien?"

Legolas blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by your suggestion. "Visit Lothlórien?" he echoed, his brow furrowing in thought. "It's an... intriguing idea, Y/n, but I'm not sure how my father would feel about it."

You nodded, understanding Legolas' reservations. "I know it's a risk," you admitted, "but I believe that if he could experience the beauty and hospitality of Lothlórien for himself, he might begin to understand... and perhaps even appreciate our way of life."

Legolas considered your words for a moment before a smile spread across his face. "You may be right, Y/n," he said, his eyes alight with excitement. "Let's extend the invitation to my father and see what he says."

With a renewed sense of hope, you and Legolas set about preparing for Thranduil's visit to Lothlórien. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you were determined to show both him and your parents that love could conquer even the deepest of divides. And so, with hearts full of anticipation and determination, you bid farewell to Minas Tirith. You knew that a new chapter of your journey was about to begin.

As Legolas and an initially reluctant Thranduil arrived in Lothlórien, the tension between them was palpable. Thranduil's expression was stoic and reserved, while Legolas wore a strained smile who was clearly uncomfortable with the situation. You greeted them warmly, hoping to ease the atmosphere, but even your efforts seemed to fall flat in the face of the lingering animosity between your parents. The initial interactions were awkward only filled with polite but strained conversation and forced smiles.

But as the evening progressed and the wine flowed freely the atmosphere began to shift. Your parents, Thranduil, and Legolas found themselves gradually relaxing in each other's company. The rigid barriers between them slowly melting away under the influence of hope after the war and shared experiences. You watched with a mixture of joy and relief as the tension dissipated, replaced by laughter and genuine conversation. Thranduil who had initially been so guarded found himself opening up. He began to share stories and jokes with Celeborn and Galadriel as if they were old friends.

And Legolas, too, seemed to come alive in the warmth of his father’s acceptance. His smile growing more genuine with each passing moment. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders finally allowing him to truly be himself in their presence. He chuckled at one of Thranduil's jokes and clinked glasses with Celeborn, a genuine smile gracing his features.

In the midst of the conversation Legolas turned to you, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Meleth nin," he said softly, his voice filled with utmost warmth.

As Legolas inadvertently uttered the Elvish endearment, my love, the words hung in the air laden with the weight of unspoken emotions. Your heart skipped a beat at his slip-up, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you.

"Really?" you exclaimed. Your eyes widened with surprise and utmost delight. For a moment you almost forgot that your parents and Legolas' father were present too caught up in the rush of emotion that swept over you.

Legolas blinked, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he realized what he had said in front of the parents. "I... uh, I mean..." he stammered, clearly flustered by your reaction.

But before he could finish, Thranduil let out a soft chuckle. The elvenking’s eyes twinkling with amusement. "It seems our children are more than just friends," he remarked to your parents. His tone surprisingly light-hearted.

You turned to your parents with a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I guess we should have mentioned that sooner," you admitted feeling a surge of relief as you saw their understanding smiles.

Celeborn and Galadriel exchanged knowing glances before Celeborn spoke up. "Love has a way of revealing itself in unexpected ways," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "We are happy for you both."

Thranduil let out a small chuckle. His eyes crinkling with amusement. "Young love," he said before shaking his head in mock exasperation. "It seems like only yesterday that Legolas was just a boy chasing after butterflies in the woods."

Legolas rolled his eyes playfully at his father's comment. "I assure you, Ada, I have grown up a bit since then," he spoke. His tone teasing but affectionate.

Celeborn chuckled softly his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Indeed," he agreed, his voice warm. "But some things never change." He motioned to you with a knowing grin.

And as the tension melted away completely, replaced by laughter, and shared understanding, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unwavering support of your parents. With their blessing and acceptance, you and Legolas knew that your love story was only just beginning. You were finally destined to have a beautiful and unforgettable journey filled with laughter, joy, and the sweet promise of a future together. You had waited a long time for this. A very long time.

As the night grew deeper and the fire crackled softly, you and Legolas found yourselves immersed in a comfortable silence. The two of you basking in the warmth of each other's presence. Legolas turned to you with a playful glint in his eyes, taking your hand in his. "Well, my dear, it seems the hour grows late," he remarked, his voice soft and warm.

You nodded feeling a surge of affection for the elf beside you. "Yes, it does," you replied, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

With a gentle tug on your hand Legolas rose to his feet pulling you up with him. "Allow me to escort you to your room," he said. His voice filled with gentle sincerity.

You followed him, the touch of his hand sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. As you reached your door, Legolas turned to you. His eyes sparkling with mischief. "Until next time, meleth nin," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before turning to leave.

A faint blush coated your cheeks at his actions. “Until next time, meleth nin.” You repeated. You watched him go with a smile playing at your lips as you realized that no matter what adventures lay ahead, you would face them with him. Oh, what a life.

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[zepskies]

Any Lord of the Rings (LOTR)/Hobbit Fans?

Hey there! Happy almost Friday. 🥳

I just rewatched Lord of the Rings -- extended edition of course -- and it's still one of my favorite series ever. It also got my muse flowing in a different direction. 😂 Trust me, I still have plenty of Jackles and SPN stuff coming your way, now through February!

Now, I polled my lovely Patrons on this, and quite a few of them are interested in reading LOTR/Hobbit fanfiction from me in the future. But I'd also like to know what all of you think!

If not, it's TOTALLY fine. 💜 But if yes...

If not, I may just make a separate blog for posting LOTR/Hobbit fanfiction when the mood strikes me... 🤔 (After posting on my Patreon first. 💖)

[teawithmadalice]

THE DRAGONS DAUGHTER

Prologue • Thranduil x daughter!OC

Summary: Thranduil lost his beloved daughter 500 years ago, on his search for the white gems of Lasgalen- his wife's final gift to him, he finds a young elf who reminds him of his lost daughter.

WORD COUNT: 2k

1 (YOU ARE HERE) • 2

The town square was filled with a hushed anticipation. The people, their faces marked by years of hardship and torment from the years of being terrorized by the fire breathing beast known by the name of Smaug, gathered together as the mayor, an elderly man with a deep, gravelly voice, stood before them.

"Good people of lake town, I stand before you today to speak of a matter both heavy and upsetting- one that has weighed on us all for what feels like generations although we know that is not so. Each season, as the winds begin to stir and change and the first frost that touches the earth melts away into spring dew drops, we face a choice, a duty. A sacrifice. This has taken the form of your hard earned gold, herds of sheep and piles of luxuries are sacrificed in an attempt to appease the beast"

He paused- his gaze sweeping over the gathered crowd, young and old all gathered.

"For almost 2 seasons now, we have lived under the shadow of the mountain. Above us, in the crags and cliffs, the great dragon Smaug watches over this land. I and the council have decided. One innocent soul, taken from among us, chosen by fate and tradition, to appease the dragon’s hunger."

"Regretfully, one newborn babe will be randomly selected by our council, and tonight, will be given as tribute to Smaug"

His voice grew softer now, tinged with sorrow- though it remained firm in its conviction.

"Now, I know that there are some among you who question this. Who feel in their hearts that such a practice is cruel, that the price is too steep. I see your faces, and I hear your whispers. I, too, have felt the weight of this duty, the pang of grief in offering a life so young. But we cannot allow this torment to continue plaguing our lovely town any longer."

"We must remember the fate of the dwarven kingdom of erebor and our sister-city of dale, those people died because they would not submit to the mighty dragon Smaug, we survived because we are lucky enough to have built our quaint town on water, and that the flame of Smaug cannot rage on for long before being distinguished into smoke and steam.

To the great people of Laketown, for our survival, we must do this."

•••••

It is written in the history books that the queen of the elven kingdom of mirkwood, wife of king thranduil and mother to the young elfling prince legolas died during the war on Angmar at the hands of orc barbarians.

The kingdom was said to have mourned the loss of a kind and benevolent queen that day, the realm fell silent, even the elves in neighbouring kingdoms mourned the beloved queen and sent commiserations to the widowed king and young elfling prince.

But what the history books leave out is that the queen of mirkwood, Calathiel, did not die alone. She was on the road to a neighbouring kingdom to seek refuge, with a newly born babe, a princess elfling who had fallen ill and needed treatment that the war-torn mirkwood could not provide.

The knowledge of the princess was unknown to those outside the royal family and those close to them, it was a great risk- a pregnant queen is a prime target for enemy attacks.

Calathiel and the small assortment of guards, (around four or five elves) that travelled with her were intercepted and slain only one day away from their destination- their bodies were left to the elements, ivy growing over the corpses in intricate patterns- a grotesque beauty.

it was three months before a group of mirkwood rangers recovered the bodies.

6 bodies.

Five corpses clothed in armour with weapons in hand and one body adorned in elven silk and silver jewelry, a woven crown laying on top of the silver locks of hair.

No young elfling babe was found among the fallen

•••••

"mama!" a young boy, with a mop of chocolate brown curls came crashing into his home in lake town.

"Aldren Forrinson where on earth have you been boy!" the screech of a woman with the same flurry of brown curls yelled back, putting her knitting needles down onto the stool beside her.

The small blanket was almost complete, a gift for her unborn babe she had carried in her womb for almost nine months, it would only be a few days until her waters broke and the bundle of joy would come wailing and kicking into the world.

"mama I found something! I was out walking in the woods- yes, I know you told me not to go too far from town- BUT! look..." the boy approached his mother, a bundle of soft blankets and wrappings of silk lay in his arms.

A soft gasp left the woman's lips as she peered down, a small pale face peered back with piercing blue eyes-

"give it here boy."

her nimble hands peered back at the many layers of cloth, short silver locks of hair had begun to sprout from the babes head, small pointed ears and a button nose- an elfling.

The elfling shivered, sweat beaded down her forehead, the warning signs of a fever- "listen to me here boy, go to master vere and tell him that the babe needs to be monitored, I can't keep an eye with my bump as big as it is now, " the woman leaned over to the pipe of finished knitted toys, clothes and blankets and took a soft woolen baby hat and placed it a top the babes head, covering the silver locks and pointed ears.

"there. Now off you go boy - shoo"

The sun was setting by the time the small boy got to the village doctor, bursting through the door and laying the babe on top of a table

"Master! babe- sick- fever" aldren panted, out of breath.

The old man stood from his chair, grey haired and wrinkled "oh, I was unaware your mother had given birth- where is she-?" the man turned, expecting to see the boy, but was met with mud trodden footprints made in haste. A sigh left his lips, turning to the babe and picking up the now sleeping infant.

WINTER, TA 2401, CLINIC LOG.

PATIENT: INFANT GIRL 'FORRISON'

DESCRIPTION: pale faced, smaller than the average babe, small scattered birthmark on the left shoulder , newly born.

The patient seems to be infected with a sweating sickness, from my evaluation there is not much that can be done, I have administered a sedative so the babe is not in pain- it is up to the patient to fight the sickness, let us pray she is strong

••••••••

A soft knock resounded on the Forrinson families front door.

The woman opened the door slightly, peeking through the crack- on the other side was an extremely recognisable face.

"Mayor," she spoke, opening the door fully "what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Mrs Forrinson, I am not sure if you've heard the announcement I made yesterday in the town centre."

A laugh left her lips at the thought "Of course I've heard, word travels fast and this is a small town after all sire! it's the most interesting thing that's happened here in a long while- it's awful that it has come to this, but I understand why you've decided to take this approach- I hope it works and that whomever the poor child is, that the sacrifice is worthwhile."

"I'm glad you think that Mrs Forrinson. Unfortunately, this is why I'm here talking to you today." his voice was soft, almost remorseful. An unsettling feeling wormed it's way into the pit of the woman's stomach.

"I ventured down to Master Veres clinic to look at the patients logs of all infants born in the last sixth months, in total there were 22"

A deep sigh left the man's lips. "I regret to inform you that your newborn girl has been chosen to do the honourable duty as a forfeit to Smaug- I understand how heartbreaking this must be but i-"

Her pulse was fast. Eyes darting around. She had not yet given birth, but her child was chosen to be sacrificed. Did he think the young elfling was hers? what should she do? her thoughts ran a mile a minute- the elfling was abandoned, has no family that would mourn her- surely she should be the one to be sacrificed, right?

"Mrs Forrinson... Hello Mrs Forrinson are you listening?" the deep voice of the older man snapped the woman out of her thoughts.

"Yes- i- apologies, this is a lot to take in..."

"I understand, your child is still at the clinic, yes? maybe you and your family should go and spend some time with her"

"yes... I-I think we will. Thank you sire."

•••••••

The trek to the caves mouth was difficult, the sharp rocks of the winding pathways cut into the bottom of the townsfolk feet through the soles of their boots- the wind was howling, bitter and cruel, whistling mockingly at them.

Beneath the large cocoon of blankets bundled in Mrs Forrinson's arms, the young elfling was slumbering, blissfully unaware of how each step taken was one step closer to a tragic fate of fire and ash.

The mountain began to shake, rumbling ferociously. "Smaug grows near, be careful!" one of the elders spoke, before he could continue a deep bellowing voice echoed from the opening of the cave

"WHAT HAVE YOU INSOLENT MORTALS BROUGHT ME NOW... A PITIFUL SOME OF GOLD PERHAPS? MAYBE SOME SHEEP TO SATIATE MY APPETITE?"

The blackening void of the cave was broken by two bright orange glowing eyes, emitting a deep growl as they slowly approached closer and closer to the small entourage of townsfolk.

"...NO... IT CANNOT BE TREASURE OR FOOD, I CANNOT SMELL THE GOLD ORE OR THE THUMPING HEARTS OF OBLIVIOUS SHEEP~ YOU'VE BOUGHT ME... SOMETHING... NEW."

"Smaug. We know you are a creature of wrath, a force of nature, and we know the land has trembled beneath your fury. The sky grows dark when you take to the air, and no beast or man dares to challenge your flame. But we are not your enemies—we seek only to survive, to live in peace with the land you claim as your own.

In our desperation, we have come to offer the one thing we hold most precious, the only way we know to ask for your mercy: a child of our own blood, a newborn babe born only a few moons ago. "

He motions to Mrs Forrinson, who cradles a newborn in her arms, unaware of the fact that the babe is not her own, but an abandoned elfling left on the edge of a nearby forest

"We offer this child, her life, in the hope that her innocence might sway your heart. Her cries are pure, her laughter untainted. She is the future of our village- the last hope we have to please you and, in turn, save our people from the shadow of death you cast upon us.

We do not ask for your forgiveness, only that you take this gift and spare us the destruction we fear. We understand the value of a life-of any life-and it is with the deepest sorrow that we present this offering, knowing full well the price it demands.

May you find in this small child something worthy of your grace.

We beg of you... let it be enough."

The older man motions to Mrs Forrinson, encouraging her to step forward and place the bundle of blankets and knitted wear at the mouth of the cave- this child was not her own, but a strong feeling of sorrow and grief ran throughout her body, solemn tears silently dripping down her face.

"I am so sorry little one." she whispered, pressing a soft kiss onto the young elves forehead, patting her hat covered head- one she kept on to conceal the pointed elven ears and the babes true nature.

"YOU MORTALS NEVER CEASE TO AMAZE ME. LEAVE. YOUR OFFERING IS ACCEPTED."

★★★★★

OMG the prologue is done! I'm scared I rushed the ending but oh well- not proofread!

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next chapter

[beeandthescreen]

What are the loser community's thoughts on a Thranduil x Tarnished!OC verse. I'm rubbing my hands together, plotting. I feel like Elden ring drama and lotr drama can make a juicy combo (though it would be the biggest fucking headache to plan out) But the yearning I'm planning between these two...its catastrophic.

I have art. I have writing. I have a playlist. I have an extensive pinterest board. I feel like I need to release this worm in my brain to the world.