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queenofsarcazm · 2 years

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Smaug’s Daughter gets it on with the Elven King ;)

A fic in which a modern girl falls asleep while creating her perfect smutty daydream about herself and Thranduil, and wakes up to living it. Includes the quest starting at Beorn’s, Arien is Smaug’s daughter and a half elf, includes Kili/Tauriel and Thorin/Bilbo and smut ;)

AO3 LINK - https://archiveofourown.org/works/36555799/chapters/91167853

Excerpt from ch 4

“Leave us,” Thranduil ordered his soldiers, in elvish. His deep voice shook my bones, I almost moaned at it, but managed to stay quiet, still, unattached, at least on the outside.

He stared at me and I stared at him. I could almost feel how dilated my pupils were, as if my eyes were more pupils than irises. The tension between us was unbearable, so thick you wouldn’t be able to cut it with a knife, no you’d need an axe or a saw. I felt sweat trickle down my body, making my shirt stick to my body, my breasts swallowing the fabric of it. For some reason my teeth itched, my skin felt too tight and my temperature was running way too hot. Was I sick? I needed… something. It was hard to stand still, but I didn’t want to let on that being in the King’s presence bothered me.

Thranduil rose to his feet when all the soldiers had gone, and even though I hadn’t seen them, as my eyes had been interlocked with Thranduil’s, I had heard the steps as they left and I had noted that there had been a lot more soldiers than I had accounted for when I first walked in.

When he began descending the steps, I held my breath. I knew he was tall, I knew it, but when he reached the level I was at, I still marvelled at just how tall. I’d felt like a giant next to the dwarves the last couple of days, but now? Now I was the one being dwarfed. Thranduil was incredibly tall, even for an elf, and while his physique was on the slim side, there was no doubt in my mind that he could win any brawl through pure power. I gathered he could lift me up and throw me off this platform without breaking a sweat if he so wished. The mere thought sent shivers down my spine.

There was something completely wrong with me.

Since I was holding my breath, I couldn’t smell him, but I knew his scent would have amplified at our proximity. He approached me slowly, like a lion stalking a gazelle that had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, forced to face its inevitable fate. If I hadn’t been clenching my teeth together so forcefully, I might have actually drooled, but If he was in any way, shape or form affected by me, his face did not reveal it. I could not scent it either.

He stopped mere inches away from me, making me crane my neck to avoid breaking eye-contact. To lift my chin up this high left my neck completely exposed, but for some reason this felt right. There was a slight curve to his lips, as if he was enjoying the sight of me, making me fear he could tell precisely how much I was struggling?

“Who are you?” he asked me in elvish.

I raised my brows, pretending not to understand. In fact, I was still holding my breath, still delaying what I knew to be inevitable, though I knew I would require air in the nearest future.

He raised a brow at me, before moving again, this time stopping right behind me. I continued to stay perfectly still, even when he leaned closer, leaned so close his lips were almost touching my ear. Thranduil inhaled the smell of me, then he said softly, “a pity. Dirty talking sounds better in Elvish. ”

I couldn’t help it. I was so taken aback by his statement that I gasped. Was he insinuating…? Oh my gods. He was! When I drew in my first breath of a while, his scent came with it and almost knocked me the fuck out. Thranduil smelled divine. I totally got what Edward had been talking about in Twilight when he’d said Bella was like his own personal brand of heroin. If I could bottle up the smell of Thranduil, I’d sniff it until I died. I’d never get anything done.

Holding my breath had somewhat dulled the intense need within me, but it all came rushing back now, hitting me like a battering ram. My knees were weak at the sensation of his scent. If I could spend the rest of my day licking it off his skin, I would die a happy woman.

“Ah. So I thought.” He chuckled, the sound of which reverberated through my skin, feeding me dirty dirty thoughts of where else would be nice to feel the thrum of his humming laughter. Except... No, not good, remember what you came for, I thought to myself. Which was… Which was fucking Thranduil. That was why I had come. I couldn’t cower now. How many times had I envisioned this situation? How many times had I pleasured myself to the mere thought of it? How many fucking fan fictions had I devoured about this very man? This... this King?

Putting on a brave, hopefully unbothered-looking, face, I turned around to confront him. All of my instincts were screaming at me to push back at him, to challenge him and I could see as I turned around that he wasn’t as unaffected as he’d made it seem. His chest was rising and falling fast, and in his eyes I could see that he was hungry, ravenous even. His strikingly ice-coloured eyes undressed me as they moved down my body, lingering by my lips before they returned to my eyes again.

I smirked at him. And here I’d thought all the power was in his hands. Choosing a bold approach, I took a step closer, initiating what we both wanted. Since he didn't move, our bodies were now touching. The feel of his against mine was torturous only because I wanted our clothes removed, wanted to feel his skin on mine. Preferably I would also lick every inch of his skin, but that could wait for now. I lifted my hand next, grabbing a handful of his silver shirt before I pulled him down towards me.

Thranduil indulged me, leaning down while taking hold of my chin, angling my head up. We were both breathing heavily, moving slowly as if not to stop the other, both desperate for more.

My skin was hot, feverish, when I leaned in for the kiss, watched as he did the same, but then at the very last moment pulled back before our lips met. My great bold approach. Hah! That showed him! He’d made me feel needy, so it was only fair I returned the favour.

Thranduil growled low in his throat, actually growled! His eyes looked furious. I only managed a short smirk before his hand moved from my chin to the back of my head, grabbing my curly hair harshly before he captured my lips in a kiss.

His lips were impossibly soft, and the taste of him almost indescribable. Imagine not having had water for a month and then being given a nice cold glass of water. I could lick his lips and never tire. He felt so good I moaned into his mouth. The power he extruded through grabbing me like that was also something that was making me very, very wet.

I felt him smile against my lips as his other hand went to my waist, crushing my body against his as he devoured me through kisses. My nipples rubbed against my shirt as he held me tightly to himself.

Gripped onto his shirt until my knuckles turned white with the effort, as if my life depended on it, I moved my other hand into his hair. It felt like the finest silk and I had expected nothing else. Pulling his hair roughly, I bit his lower lip in a not so gentle manner.

Thranduil gasped and pulled back, not letting go of my hair or waist and so I didn’t let go of him either. Our eyes met, but then I saw that his lip was bleeding. Shit, had I gone too far?

He looked at me with such utter bewilderment that I was highly expecting him to just kill me next, but he didn’t. We were both out of breath now, my body burning with need. I had to have him. My body physically ached as if he was the missing puzzle piece and I would die if he didn’t complete me. It felt like life or death at this point. “Are you going to fuck me or what?” I asked him in elvish.

His eyes darkened, his grip on my hair tightening. I winced, but I loved it. I loved being treated roughly. I loved him being in charge. It turned me on so much.Thranduil’s lips curled upwards, but it wasn’t a nice smile. This smile was full of promise. A promise of destruction and I was looking forward to every second of it. As if I weighed nothing he lifted me up, with one hand, and I instantly wrapped my legs around him, feeling the evidence of his need against my body. “Your mouth is going to get you killed one day,” he began. I bit my lip and his gaze shot down, drawn like a moth to a flame. “But today is not that day.”

Then he carried me away. I leaned in and started kissing his neck as he carried me past the big throne, but not the way I’d come in. There was a bridge of sorts behind the throne, leading to a big set of doors. I was half paying attention just in case, whilst kissing, sucking and licking at his neck. The origin of much of his scent. I couldn’t get enough of him. My teeth were itching and aching and so I did bite him a little too, but it didn’t do anything for the pressure that was throbbing in my gums. I rubbed my nipples against his chest and ground my hips against his stomach while I tried to undress him. I was desperate for him. I’d never felt a need so strong in my entire life.

There was something seriously wrong with me.

#Smaug’s daughter #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x oc #thranduil x reader #Thranduil #shapeshifter #lotr fanfic #hobbit fanfic #lotr smutty

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justsomerandomfanfic · 1 year

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Fanfic Friday - 4/28/23

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thewickedspinster · 5 months

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Of Eternity (Thranduil x Reader)

pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader

synopsis: Thranduil and Y/N know each other from what seems like a past life; one that both would rather forget. Once secret lovers, hidden from the prying eyes of the Elvenking's court, the two elves' disagreements became too much, their opinions too divided. Y/N departed for Rivendell and sought shelter with her friend, Elrond. But when the Elvenking of Mirkwood comes to parlay with the Lord of Rivendell, he once again meets Y/N, and someone else who looks awfully familiar...

warnings: afab!Reader, pregnancy, elf children, war

Tathrenion = son of one willow-made

requested by @starlight5cat

Of Eternity

In Rivendell, the seasons turned as flowers bloomed; with a sudden burst of color against the greys of winter. They came and went quickly for elvenkind, rising and eddying like the tide, and with them came new wonders and sounds, new flavors. Song.

Y/N could hardly remember a time when her life was not dictated by these rhythms, when time was so magnified as to hear her own heartbeat, to watch the sunlight catch upon a dewdrop. Though, it was not so long ago she was in a place where seasons hardly touched, where time stood still and light lingered in honeyed moments. Where her breath raced in her body, and youth stretched into eternity. Where naïveté was all too familiar.

Here, she had more responsibility. Here, she was unequivocally welcome. When she had fled the confines of her life before in Mirkwood, where she had been daughter of a Ñoldor house descended from Fingolfin, and gone westward into the Misty Mountains, she had only hoped her old friend, Elrond, would grant her sanctuary. He welcomed her with open arms. Here, she sat on his council of advisors. Here, life was warm and full of light once more.

For a short time of twenty-odd years, there was peace east of the Misty Mountains. Though her cousin Galadriel could not believe it, it had appeared the dark servant of Morgoth named Sauron had been vanquished. The grey elves lived in peace with the sons of Durin and helped the wayward man, but kept to their forests and their mountains. All had seemed well, and with the protection of the haven of Rivendell, the darkness of old seemed unable to touch her.

Such comforts cannot last. Not so long as Morgoth and his fell creations plagued Arda.

As soon as word reached Rivendell of a darkness fallen upon southern Mirkwood, Elrond sought Y/N's counsel.

"You know the eastern forests well," Elrond said softly, guiding them both down towards the river. Water fell in a gentle curtain of silver ahead, glinting in the moonlight. "What sort of evil could cause these things?"

The pair ducked behind the waterfall, and the sound of rushing water hushed their voices. There hidden was an alcove, large enough for a small group, with cushions surrounding the burnt-out embers of a fire. Elrond had come here often in the early days of ruling Rivendell, and when Y/N had arrived, had brought her here in her most vulnerable moments.

"The Elvenking's Halls are to the north, but in my many wanderings, I went south," she answered, settling on the floor alongside Elrond. "Mirkwood is vast and its creatures untold, but I have never seen anything that would produce this sort of rot."

Elrond hummed, deep in thought. Elven and human messengers alike had been passing along rumors of dark creatures in the southern Mirkwood, things that walked on more than four legs, with slavering maws and the stench of evil surrounding them. Elves who more often ventured south returned with harrowing stories of voices, of song coming from the dark trees. The canopies had grown so thick that sunlight hardly reached the ground. Some had even reported sightings of Orcs.

"You know what this means," Y/N said, interrupting Elrond's reverie. "Galadriel was right. She was always right. We cannot know that Sauron is vanquished. We burned no body. Isildur brought no head. Only the Silmaril."

"There are no credible rumors of Morgoth's creatures, Y/N."

"There are," she insisted. "They have started calling this force 'The Necromancer.' This is no coincidence, Elrond. All evil in these lands comes back to Sauron. To Morgoth. So long as their discord remains, none of the children of Eru are safe."

Beyond his red head, with his noble face, the silvered water fell in sheets, dulling to a gentle sheaving. Waiting. When he raised his gaze, he said, "What would you have me do?"

Galadriel would have them go to war. Though she had grown less brash since the last age, she had grown no less desperate for Sauron's defeat. But Rivendell was a haven, a place of peace for wandering elves. She could not see amassing forces and marching to Mirkwood unaided. Besides, it was not Elrond's territory to march on.

"You know exactly what you must do, my friend," she said at last.

"You do not like him."

"What of it?"

"He is the reason you fled your home."

It was true enough, though it still gave Y/N pause. Mirkwood had been a home for long centuries, it was true. But before that, she had known the lushness of Beleriand, and the glory of Númenor. She would always be a wanderer. But the Elvenking of Mirkwood brought with him memories too fresh to be painless.

"He is the lord of Mirkwood, and should you wish to do anything at all about this rising evil, you must first confer with him," she said firmly. "Invite him here. Invite his entire court. They will leave Prince Legolas to guard the north, but Thranduil will come."

"I would have you by my side upon his reception."

Y/N caught the glimmer of ancient mischief in Elrond's eyes, and offered him a faint smile in return. "It would be an honor."

~~~

Word came within a fortnight that the Elvenking's party would embark on the Elf-path by the full moon. This gave the people of Rivendell little time to prepare, but showed Elrond and his council how dire circumstances were in Mirkwood.

As Y/N stood at Elrond's side on the dais before the sweeping steps to the city, she knew that in this matter, as all others, that Thranduil would be stubborn, cunning, and seemingly omniscient. It was in his power as king to appear so to his people. But Y/N, he could not fool. She and Elrond would simply need maneuver with tact, to force Thranduil into showing his hand.

In the distance, the royal traveling party rounded a bend and came into view, the Elvenking in his raiment of grey and silver astride his great antlered steed. From here, Y/N could feel his piercing gaze upon them, focusing on her at the Lord of Rivendell's side. Robed in rich, dark green against Elrond's golden raiment, Y/N stood tall. A circlet of gold sat upon her brow, and in it, an opal enshrined. Befitting of her station, she stood to Elrond's left, his wife Celebrían to his right.

Y/N had known true fear in the face of evil, yet facing the Elvenking of Mirkwood after these twenty years turned her chest cold. She could never fear him - she knew him too well, but that was just the problem. They shared a deep past of friendship, of love, forbidden though it may have been. And pain, at the last. Since their parting, she had, for the first time, lived many secrets that she kept from him still.

The party finally arrived at the dais, the great reindeer's feet clapping against the stone as thunder. The Elvenking dismounted, stepped before Elrond, and inclined his head.

"Lord Elrond of Rivendell, you honor me with your great hospitality," he said formally, the Sindarin tongue rolling like quicksilver from his mouth. "And Lady Celebrían, thank you for welcoming my host into your household."

Elrond, Y/N, and the council assembled bowed to the king.

"We are pleased you answered our invitation," Elrond replied, his tone, as ever, one of deliberate lightness, as if he knew something no one else did. "How long shall you stay?"

"A week," Thranduil said shortly. Finally, finally, his silvered eyes shifted to Y/N. She breathed in deeply. "There are matters to attend to in Mirkwood."

"I do hope Prince Legolas is well," she said softly, smoothly.

Thranduil looked momentarily surprised she'd spoken, his eyebrows drawing together at the sound of her voice. "He is taking to his responsibilities well."

A moment of silence passed. The river roared below. Then, Celebrían was taking gesturing towards the king, leading him away into the great wood house of Rivendell.

Formal greetings complete, the rest of the crowd quickly dispersed, and elves moved swiftly in preparation for the feast prepared in the king's honor. Soon, only Elrond and Y/N remained. She watched the sun setting over the vale, eyes fixed on the rushing waters surrounding.

"Will you tell him?" Elrond asked, voice so quiet only she could hear.

"How could I?" Y/N whispered. She felt her fingers tremble.

"It is unfair to -"

"You shall not tell me what is fair or unfair, Elrond," Y/N whirled, suddenly furious. "You know not what it is to have my fears."

Elrond held up his hands. "I only wish to say that truths are better spoken. Deception is the chaos-sower."

"It will put him in danger."

"It will give him power."

"A curse," she hissed. "A bounty upon his head."

"Or a crown."

She stared at her friend, stunned. "You do not mean that."

Elrond only watched her in return.

With no words left between them, Y/N turned and disappeared into the house, bracing herself for the week to come.

~~~

It was the fourth day of the accursed sessions of counsel, and Thranduil had still not admitted there being any disturbance in Mirkwood. He spoke on matters of trade, of agriculture, of relations with Khazad-Dûn, but nothing of the murmurs from the Sutherlands.

Y/N was beginning to lose her patience.

Elrond, blessedly, had more of it to spare. Ever the diplomat, he listened to Thranduil's concerns and complaints of their relations, and constructed plans to fix them. Ever the master of compromise, he kept Rivendell's secrecy and best interests at heard. Ever the more patient of the two, he kept prodding the Elvenking towards revealing his secrets, to no avail.

Y/N sat, posture relaxed, around the dais at the center of Elrond's pubic chambers. The elves around her deliberated, debated, while she kept her mouth closed. As Elrond's chief advisor, her primary duty was to listen. She interjected when Elrond looked to her, and when someone said something entirely ludicrous. Elves tended to take a laboriously long time to come to any sort of agreement in politics, and were reasonable to the point of boredom. Y/N's engagement had thus far been minimal, though she heard all.

They had turned to the topic of weapons, and of Rivendell's protection. They were inching closer to the topic at hand, but she knew Thranduil had a deep well of patience, particularly when it came to dealing with elves. The high noon sun blazed down on the white marble.

"How have you fared in the training of your ranks?" Thranduil inquired, sipping at a goblet of honeywine.

"The archers excel, under the tutelage of Sindarin masters," Elrond said. "The swordsmen, under that of the Ñoldor. Khazad-Dûn has agreed to provide us with weapon designs, and with materials to forge them. Durin is all too happy to help an old friend."

Thranduil scoffed lightly into his cup. "Old friend, indeed."

Y/N sat up straighter at the tone, the scoff. She had heard it many times. "Prince Durin has provided us with an excellent relationship over the years. He is a close friend to Rivendell."

Thranduil looked at her, through her, in her. Before her mind's eye flashed his face, poised over her, abed. Soft candlelight shone from beyond his features, and his face was softened into the loveliest of smiles. Gone in an instant.

Just then, lithe footsteps from just inside, and bursting from behind the curtains came three elven children, small and laughing. A maid reached out, trying to snatch them by their tunics, but too late. They sprinted into the circle, and straight up to Elrond.

"Father, we would like to go the Gates," one boy panted. Elrohir.

"Apologies, Father," the other interjected, suddenly serious. Elladan, his twin. "I told him not to come."

"Our swordmaster is at the Gates, and asked us to join him," the third explained. Y/N sat forward, staring down at the boys.

"Tathrenion," she said severely, hiding the quake to her voice, "you know not to enter this chamber when Lord Elrond is taking counsel."

The third boy, unlike the other two, with (Y/HC) hair and striking grey eyes, paled, bowing to Y/N. Even when he straightened, he kept his eyes averted. "Forgive me, Mother. Elladan and Elrohir wished to go, and I wished to accompany them."

It was only then, as the boys turned to glance around at the present company, that Elrond spoke.

"You are in the presence of Thranduil, Elvenking of Mirkwood."

Shuffling, with a soft gasp from Elrohir, the three boys bowed low to the king. Thranduil said nothing for a moment. Instead of on the children, his eyes were pinned on Y/N, wide with unbridled shock. When he finally did look at the boys, at the one called Tathrenion, he found his own eyes staring back, steady and calm.

Thranduil stood abruptly, setting down his goblet. He opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "We shall eat. Elrond, you shall decide what to do with your sons."

He swept off the dais, out of view, and Y/N was left staring at the spot he once occupied.

"Go after him," Elrond murmured to her, leaning close.

"Tathrenion-"

"Leave the child to me." And an unspoken promise to keep her son safe.

Y/N was up in an instant, following in Thranduil's wake as quickly as possible. But he was moving fast, and kept dodging out of sight, around corners that he did not know. Servants moved out of the way as Y/N passed through an adjoining kitchen at a sprint, intercepting Thranduil as he rounded the corner into the next room.

She caught him by his elbow as he tried to pull from her grasp, but she held firm.

"Thranduil," she said. "Stop. Just... Stop. And listen."

His rage made his jaw tight, his brows drawn low. "I will not stand here and listen to you when you have -"

"I had to leave," she interrupted, holding his gaze unflinchingly. "I could not be your concubine, Thranduil. I would not."

He scoffed, that same sound he made when he thought someone foolish. Beneath him. It hadn't started this way, but as they fell deeper into each other, he'd started scoffing at her the same way. It was part of what drove Y/N away from Mirkwood. "You were not a concubine, Y/N."

"Then tell me what I was to you."

Thranduil bent lower, so their faces were inches apart. "You know exactly what you were to me."

"I know that I was not your wife." And that was venom in her tone, sour and deadly.

A shadow passed over his features. "You were everything she was not."

"And that makes me whore to a king."

"You have never been a whore!" He shouted.

The surrounding house went quiet. Y/N trembled, fingertips numb.

"Tathrenion is your son," she said lowly, practically hissing into his mouth. "Your son, Thranduil. Our place in Rivendell is of your doing. You never recognized what it was to be in my place, with no guarantee of my safety in your court."

"I always would have protected the both of you."

Tears gathered in her eyes. "Our love felt increasingly fragile. I doubted that it even existed any longer. Had we been found out, I doubted you would protect me from exile."

Thranduil was quiet. The house had moved on from his sharp outburst, exhaling as his anger passed. Y/N's grip loosened on his tunic, her truth spoken. But her touch lingered.

"Did you know?" He murmured hoarsely.

"Not when I left your halls. Not until I reached the Misty Mountains."

"And all... went well? With the birth?"

Elven births were rare, and dangerous for mother and child. "Blessedly, Elrond's midwives and healers some of the most gifted, and I healed swiftly. He was born squalling."

He loosed a soft breath, and some of the tension left his features. He had always been beautiful, but it was when he was away from prying eyes that he truly became ethereal. Radiant. Himself.

"You should always have been in Mirkwood, with me." She just looked up at him. "I am sorry, my Y/N. I never meant to make you afraid."

"It is safer for both of us away from you and Legolas."

Thranduil snorted. "My son has proven impertinent. And lacking the character to succeed me."

"He will mature," she said softly. "He is young still."

"He will have to fight soon."

"Then this Necromancer..."

"Is a threat. Whatever darkness lurks in the south of my lands, it is dangerous and spreading."

"Tell Elrond," she urged. "He wishes to aid any fight against Morgoth's darkness in these lands."

"My forces are strong."

"They will be stronger with Rivendell's. Don't let your pride cloud your judgement."

At that, a small smile graced his mouth. "That has always been your advice for me."

"It will always stand. Unless you change."

"Would you come home?"

The question surprised her. "You would have us? So soon after the death of your wife?"

"I would have your company," he said. "And I would have my son raised by the both of us."

Y/N did not have an answer, and she was about to say as much when a smaller voice said, "I would like to go to Mirkwood."

Y/N whipped around, and found young Tathrenion standing behind them. She took a large step away from Thranduil, then lowered herself to her son's level, steeling herself.

"What did Lord Elrond tell you and the twins?" She asked.

"He said we may go to the Gates, but I decided to stay behind." Tathrenion peered past Y/N, to the Elvenking. "I wished to speak with you."

Thranduil could hardly stomach looking at his son's face, the very reflection of his own, untouched by age yet full of a strange wisdom. "Speak, child."

"I know little of why my mother left your kingdom, but I know she has done everything since for my sake. Please, do not ply her with false hopes. If you invite us to Mirkwood, you pledge to keep her safe."

"And you," Thranduil answered immediately. "I will protect you both, and welcome you into my household in places of honor."

Y/N was speechless, her throat swollen around pride for her young son.

"I know you not, Your Majesty, but I would like to," said Tathrenion simply.

Thranduil smiled.

Y/N sent him on his way, leaving her alone once again with the Elvenking. This time, he reached out to her, and against logic, she stepped into him, leaning into his fingers upon her cheek. She had longed for his touch, his kiss, his steadfastness ever since she left the forest. Leaving Mirkwood had been one of the hardest decisions of her long life.

"Let us think about this," she whispered. "And let these diplomatic matters be done first. Speak to Elrond in earnest."

"I will wait for your return to my side, Y/N," he murmured. "I have been waiting since the moment you left."

~~~

Dappled sunlight shone down upon the glade, lighting the page Y/N read. It was a letter, signed in Elrond's familiar hand, detailing the phalanxes marching towards Mirkwood. They would join Thranduil's army in patrolling for evil in the south, just as they had hoped.

Amongst the trees, a young boy laughed, and an older one hollered. Legolas was nearly fully mature, but had taken to playing with his younger half-brother in earnest. Together, they romped through the forest, and Tathrenion adored having someone elder to look up to and learn from. He excelled in archery, now, thanks to Legolas's tutelage.

A hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her backwards, and she fell upon Thranduil's chest. He was stretched upon the grass, feline at ease. She luxuriated in the feel of his body against hers, in his fingers in her unbound hair. In his mouth, pressed to her shoulder.

She had refused to take him to bed since her return, but she had begun to let him back into her heart. He had honored his word, and the loss of his wife had left him in need of comfort, in need of counsel and a tender hand.

Besides that, over honeywine in the candlelight one night in Rivendell, he had finally told her he loved her. Words were the playthings of elves, and though they meant little to some, they meant everything to Y/N. She opened up visions of the future that had ere been clouded.

"Of what do you think, my love?" Thranduil breathed against her skin.

She came back to the dampness of the grass beneath them, the golden green of the canopy above, the laughter of her son in the distance. The warmth of her king at her back.

She smiled. "Eternity."

#thranduil x reader #lotr #the hobbit #the silmarillion #fanfic #f!reader #please be kind this is my first fic

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thewulf · 5 months

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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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tamurilofrivendell · 1 year

Text

Arranged | Thranduil x Reader

Read on AO3

Pairing: Thranduil x Female Reader

Summary: The Mirkwood courts having successfully pushed Thranduil into accepting a new queen through an arranged marriage. However, he cannot seem to help comparing them to his former wife. When tensions run high and reader calls the whole thing off, Thranduil realises the error of his ways.

Content etc: Thranduil being a little bit of an ass I guess. Angst. Fluff.

Prompt: number 32 & 39 on this list

requested by anonymous (I’m sorry this took literally forever and I’m sorry if it isn’t exactly what you wanted!)

word count: 4.6k

tags: @firelightinferno, @achromaticerebus, @coopsgirl, @birbixo0912, @desert-fern, @ancient-rime, @lady-of-imladris, @weepingdreammarvel, @asianbutnotjapanese, @deadlymistletoe

“This is wrong.” Thranduil’s voice snapped you out of your tangled thoughts and you lifted your head with a confused frown, looking back at him.

"What is?" You asked, not even having had any clue as to what it was that he was working on over there on the sprawling couch of his large private library.

Thranduil looked up and met your gaze. "The guards you have picked." He gestured to the paper in his hands as if it should be obvious. "They are not of a high enough level to guard the Queen."

“Oh.” You gave him a quizzical look, tilting your head. You weren’t entirely sure about levels and the like. Nobody had said anything yesterday. Nobody had even really told you much at all, in all honesty, you had been sort of left to fend for yourself. “I... didn’t know anything about that. I just had to watch them fight and pick, you said. They appeared good enough for me. I think they would do just fine.”

The Elvenking blinked at you for a moment, his thoughts more critical than he would have liked. If you had not been sure, why had you not asked? Deep down, he knew that you could not possibly have known to ask because he had not told you that you could, or should. He’d told you to pick your own guards and then left you in the training grounds to attend a council meeting. However, Thranduil had simply assumed you would have asked for help or clarification if you had needed it. And clearly you had if this list was anything to go by. As it was, you had not wanted to cause a fuss, or look foolish, or add more work to the king’s heavy load. The soldiers showing off their skills had seemed capable enough and that had been all you’d thought you needed to look for. Besides, how would you know anything about their levels? You still did not yet know everybody here.

Thranduil’s silence was uncomfortable but then he simply tsk'd and lowered his gaze again. He shrugged, almost to himself, but he did not sign off on the document. He simply scored something out before setting it to one side to go back to later. He would pick, he decided. If he let you choose low levelled guards, how would they protect you?

She would have chosen better, he thought, though it was there and gone again so quickly that he did not notice he’d thought it at all.

You eyed him for another long moment before you moved to leave the library, heading away down the corridor. He had been in a fairly strange mood all day and you supposed you should leave him to it. Not bad, exactly, just... distracted, perhaps.

Most likely he was still struggling a little with this entire situation and you couldn't really blame him for that because it was still so very strange for you too. To have wound up in an arranged marriage with the King of Mirkwood. You yourself were from Lothlórien, daughter of an important elf in the Lord and Lady's court.

While unexpected, you could see the positives in such an arrangement and, truthfully, you liked Thranduil. He had been kind to you, at least when you first met and agreed to this. However, now that you had actually moved here, it seemed a little like he had been taking offence to every single decision you made. He’d give you things to do and then seem unsatisfied with the way you had done them. It was frustrating but you could only assume he was stressed and that he would soon relax.

You went to sleep that night hopeful that tomorrow he would be in a better mood.

You found him in his study the following afternoon and felt relief when he looked up and smiled at you. "I hope you slept well. Are you prepared for the feast tonight?" He asked, holding his hand out to bid you closer.

"Mostly. I just have to decide what to wear." You told him, moving into the room and seating yourself beside him. “It is still between two dresses.”

He sat there looking at you with an expression that you couldn’t quite decipher and it was almost as if he was studying something in your very soul. “Oh? You are not... set by now?” It seemed far too late to not have the entire outfit prepared.

You shrugged, always having been a bit more carefree and lazy in your decision making. You were a bit of a procrastinator and did not altogether mind if you left things to the last minute. Sometimes this was simply because you just... forgot. A far cry from the King beside you, of course. Also unbeknownst to you, a far cry from the Queen who had come before.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow but said nothing more. His displeasure, however, radiated from him in waves in the silence that followed as he looked back down at the paperwork on the desk before him.

"Thranduil?"

"What?" He did not look up.

“Something troubles you.”

He responded with a non-committal grunt and you frowned at him, watching as he pretended to read whatever was on the desk but you could tell his mind was now elsewhere. You sighed and stood to leave the room.

As you turned, Thranduil’s hand suddenly reached out and grasped your own. You turned to find him looking at you, a soft smile on his lips once more. “You will look beautiful whatever you wear.”

Returning his smile, you ducked your head to hide the blush you could feel about to spread over your cheeks, and quickly took your leave.

Thranduil watched you go and then leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. He liked you, he always had, but you were not quite what he had expected when he had finally relented to the pushing of his court to take a new Queen.

He had obviously agreed you would be a good choice. Your station in Lothlórien, your family tree, put you in a very good position to knowing how things worked... yet not entirely, it seemed. Something was a little... off now that you were actually here in Mirkwood with him.

Oh, you were beautiful, there was no doubt about that. You made him laugh. He enjoyed your company. There was simply something niggling at him in the back of his mind, something he couldn’t quite figure out.

The feast came quickly, too quickly for you as the time just flew past. You had gotten caught up doing something completely unrelated and frowned when a maid rushed in to find you. Her relief was palpable but you didn’t understand it until you realised the time and she had ushered you back to your room to get ready.

Thranduil was irritated. There had been a delay - nobody had been able to find you - and you were not ready for the feast. You were not here, and it took so long that he had to walk into the room alone and act as though nothing were amiss. He had promptly sat down and thrown back a rather large gulp of strong wine, irritated by the hold up.

When you entered the room - finally - you were a vision. He took in your hair, the ornamentation in it and around your neck, and the royal blue dress with pleased eyes that did much to allay his frustration.

Then, you went and tripped over the hem of the damned thing because you had not bothered to see that it had been properly fitted.

Luckily, you were close enough to the table at this point for him to grab you by the arm and keep you upright, but his irritation only grew at the scene that your little stumble had caused. The attention you caught was not the type he wished for, nor were the titters of laughter around the room.

She would never have left the fit of the dress to chance, nor would she have embarrassed him as such.

This time, Thranduil did catch the thought, but he quickly dismissed it as a simple stray musing that did not mean anything.

“Are you alright?” He asked, a little tersely, as he refilled his glass of wine.

You nodded, hardly noticing his tone yet as you willed the embarrassed flush in your cheeks to go away. You felt like the entire room had seen that and you cursed yourself for not even thinking that the dress might need proper attention. It just had not occurred to you.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He grunted and you finally looked up at him and noticed the frustration he was trying to bury shining in his eyes. You frowned, feeling even worse. He could not be... angry at you? Could he?

After picking at the food on your plate and watching one dance (you dare not join in with your dress!), you rose and made your way from the table out of the room without a word. You were not in the mood now. Reaching up, you tore the circlet from your head as you walked down the hallway as quickly as you could.

“Where are you going?” Thranduil’s voice came from the door you had just exited and you realised that he had followed you out.

Turning, you eyed him cautiously for a moment, trying to ascertain his mood, but once more he was quite the mask. “I am tired, Thranduil. I am going to bed.”

He nodded, moving closer. His gaze dropped to the circlet in your hands. “You could not have waited until you were behind a closed door?”

“What does it matter?” You asked, shrugging at him.

Thranduil didn’t respond but his brow creased just the slightest bit. Did it matter? He began to walk down the hallway and you turned to walk with him since it seemed that he was heading in the same direction you were anyway.

“Are you upset?” You ventured after a while, watching him come to a halt as your question reached his ears.

Thranduil blinked. Was he upset? He supposed that he was feeling frustrated. Annoyed. Angry, perhaps. Why? He turned his head to look at you, a soft frown of confusion on his face as he shrugged. “I suppose I am. A little.”

“What’s the matter?”

He didn’t answer right away because, truthfully, Thranduil could not fully put into words what his problem was. What had gotten him so riled up over something that, logically, he told himself did not truly matter. Thranduil shook his head. “I am not rightly sure.” He offered his arm then. “Come, I will escort you to your room.”

But you would not be shut down quite so easily, and you shook your head. “You must know what is wrong.” You insisted. “How can I help you if you do not tell me?”

Thranduil frowned at you, his frustration growing once more. “I do not need your help.” He stated firmly, moving his arm closer so you would take it, but you still did not take it.

“Well, you need something. You-”

“Stop. Please.” He snapped lightly, dropping his arm since it had become clear that you were not going to take it. He turned around and took a step away, not wishing to engage in this right now.

“Thranduil!” Was he truly going to just turn away and leave? In the middle of a conversation? You could not quite believe it. “Just tell me what is wrong! Tell me!”

“She would not behave thus!” He thundered as he spun back to face you, and then immediately fell silent. Horror seemed to fill him as he realised what he had just said.

You frowned softly back at him, shaking your head. “Who-” Your mouth snapped shut as you stared back at him, suddenly understanding with a sick sort of certainty.

She. Her. His deceased wife.

She would not behave in this manner. She would not behave how you were behaving. She would do things ‘the right’ way. She would do better.

You could not hide the hurt that bled across your face as the two of you stared back at each other in the long, deathly silence that followed. Thranduil seemed to be frozen, utterly stricken, but you did not see it past your own dismay. Then, you were gone. Turning and fleeing from him, away down the corridor towards your own rooms.

Thranduil did not see you for two days.

He tried to seek you out that same night but he had not been able to find you and, so, retired to his chamber to wait until you were ready to talk. However, it seemed that you were not willing to talk at all as, two days later, he received word that you had been seen sneaking into the stables with a bag full of your things.

Had it not been for you carrying your own belongings, Thranduil might have dismissed it and told them to simply follow you from a safe distance to keep you safe. As it was, he was immediately up from his chair and out of the door before the guard who reported to him could blink.

He rushed to the stables, finding you still trying to attach a bag to your horse, clearly frustrated that you could not get it secure. The animal, too, seemed unamused with your attention - blowing air through its nostrils and scuffing its feet.

“Going somewhere?” He asked quietly from the doorway, causing you to jump because you had not even heard him arrive, too focused on your irritation.

You stared at him for a second and found that looking at him hurt. You did not respond, you just turned your attention back to the horse and continued fiddling with the bag but nothing would attach the damn thing to the animal so you eventually huffed in exasperation and let it drop to the floor of the stall.

A silence followed.

You could feel Thranduil’s eyes on you but you did not look up at him.

“I never meant to hurt you” Thranduil said softly after another moment and you could hear the regret in his voice but you still didn’t look up at him.

Instead, you shrugged. “But you did.”

“Yes.” He agreed quietly, sighing. “I did.”

Of course, you did not resent him thinking of his wife. How could you ever? She had been a good Queen and an even better wife from all that you had heard of her. You had never met her, not even on a trip she’d taken with the King long ago to Lothlórien. But you had heard a lot about her and she sounded amazing. She was the love of his life, the mother of his only son, and you truly had never expected to replace her but to have him compare you in such a way... it had hurt, you could not deny that.

You were so different, you understood that, but... you were two completely different people and it did not feel fair for Thranduil to hold you to this standard that you had not even realised you had to meet. Yes, you were to be a queen and yes, you had a lot still to learn especially about Mirkwood and its own politics... but you were trying. You really were! All you needed was his help, not criticism. How could he not see that?

“Please just talk to me.” He said, his voice full of obvious unhappiness. His eyes dropped to the bag on the ground. “Where are you going?”

You held in a sharp comeback about why you should be expected to talk to him when he did not wish to do the same two nights ago. At his question, your gaze turned to the bag and you sighed, shaking your head. You bent down to pick it back up and began once more attempting to fasten it securely to the horse. “Home.” You said.

Thranduil blinked. “This is home.”

You frowned and your head snapped up to look at him. “This is your home... and clearly I am not welcome in it.” You hated how your voice shook just a little. You wanted to sound brave and firm, not like a hurt little girl. “I am returning to Lothlórien. You can call off all the arrangements.”

Thranduil stared at you then, watching while you struggled with the bag, as the reality hit him. You were going home, you were... calling off the wedding?

His arm shot out and he took hold of the bag, wrenching it gently but firmly from your grip. You gave a sigh and lifted your eyes to his face. Gods, why did he have to be so handsome? You shook your head at him, throwing your hands up in a defeated manner.

“Do not leave.” He said, his voice quieter than he would have liked. He was certain it shook a little... but you did not notice.

“Why?” Was all you could ask, scoffing a little as you shook your head again. “Why should I stay here, Thranduil? I did not come here because I have no other options, I came here because I... I like you and I trust you and...” You trailed off, lowering your gaze for a moment, one of your shoes (which were absolutely not suitable for riding a horse in the first place) kicking at the straw covered ground. “I will not... settle for a life where I am never good enough, where I am always second best. A life in the shadow of a memory. A beautiful memory, do not misunderstand, and one I would never want you to forget... but I am not her, Thranduil! I am not her and I never will be and I am sorry but... I cannot stay here, not like this.”

Another silence filled the stable.

You looked away, at the horse, running your fingers through its mane. The animal was no longer in a mood now that you had stopped messing with the bag. You watched as it lazily chewed on some hay. Thranduil still had your bag in his hands, his fingers anxiously fiddling with the strap, his eyes on his hands. He felt ashamed and for a long moment he could not speak.

“You were never second place to me.” He whispered eventually, his eyes filling up with tears as he realised just what he had done. What he had made you feel. What he had made you think. “Never. You are not. I...” He faltered, grasping for the right words but he could not find them. “I know... what I said, what I have done, it was wrong. I cannot excuse myself, I do not even know why I...” He paused, frowning.

You didn’t look up, though you could see him in your peripheral vision. He seemed to be struggling. He was not always good with words when it was not about politics or battle.

“I did not realise I was doing it at first,” he continued after gathering his thoughts once more. “There is no excuse and I do not say this to make one. I simply... she is the only queen to have ever graced my rule. I was thrust onto the throne so quickly... and I was grieving and she had to... truthfully, she had no choice but to take control of many things until I was more... present.” More in the moment after watching his father die, after that dreadful day, after suddenly becoming a king. “My mother died long before I even began to pay real, proper attention to anything... royal. I... my wife was the only queen I have ever known here, I remember how she did everything, I grew used to it. I forgot that you... do not know and I did not help you properly when I know that I should have. So I compared you to her and it was not fair of me. You did nothing wrong. I am sorry. So, so sorry.” He did not really expect forgiveness, he did not feel that he deserved it, he did not feel that he should receive it. To have hurt you... it pained him. “I love you.”

You turned your head from the horse to Thranduil’s face, the shock evident as you stared back at him for a few very long minutes. Had you heard that correctly? Did he... did he say...?

Over this time, you had developed your own feelings towards the king. He was not perfect, though to outsiders he may look it, but that was probably part of why you’d fallen for him in the first place. You had not been able to help yourself.

In the beginning, after he had approached you and your father with the idea from his council of an arranged marriage, it was not something either of you had rushed into. He had spent some time getting to know you better, for he did not wish to wed somebody he did not at least get along with. He’d been clear on that with his councillors and advisors. He’d written you letters after he returned to Mirkwood, he arranged visits for you to come and spend time with him. He showed up in Lórien once with no other reason than to offer you a bouquet of wildflowers he had picked himself, then he took you on a walk through the forest and the two of you just... talked. After all of that, it had been so easy. To say yes. To agree. Though you had known, you had known, that he would never love you. He cared for you enough, you knew that, but as a friend. He would never love you as he loved her. At least that’s what you had presumed.

“You...?” Was all you could say, still staring at him in absolute shock.

Thranduil nodded, the tears in his eyes that he’d managed to keep at bay finally beginning to spill down his cheeks as he blinked. He glanced down, embarrassed, lifting his thumb to his face and swiping away a tear. “Yes.” He whispered. “I... I should have said it before, I should have... shown it better. I am so sorry... but please.” He lifted his head again, his eyes wide as he looked at you quite desperately. “Stay. Please... do not leave me.”

You were staring at him, frozen for what felt like a long time, and Thranduil began to lose hope. You would leave and he would never see you again all because of his own stupidity. He knew you did not love him that way, that you had agreed to this as his friend, but he needed you to stay here, he could not bear to lose you.

When your voice finally came, it was but a whisper, and there were now tears in your own eyes to match Thranduil’s. “...I love you too.”

Now it was Thranduil’s turn to stare at you. He looked like he could not comprehend what had just come out of your mouth. He looked like he did not dare believe it. You stepped towards him, your hand dropping from the horse as you reached for the bag in his hands. He let you take it and you swung it up onto your shoulder out of the way, taking one of his hands in yours. You were still hurt but you could not believe this had happened... and maybe this was just something you both had needed to go through, to be able to get past it. Something his mind had needed to work through.

“I love you.” You said again, a little louder. You felt his hand squeeze yours and you lifted your free one to his face, wiping away his tears. He looked like he dared not even hope that what you had just said was true.

“You do?” He asked then, his eyes softening as he gazed down at you while you wiped his tears away. His heart was threatening to burst out of his chest as he looked back at you. He was not fully sure he had even entirely admitted to himself that he loved you until right now. He’d felt it, he’d been aware of how fond he was growing of you despite those other thoughts, but he hadn’t fully come to terms with his feelings - he had not felt such love in a thousand years.

You nodded, your anger fading away, leaving both your hurt and your love behind. “Yes... I do.” You confirmed, sighing as you took his other hand. You heard his breath catch in his throat and you gave him a sad little smile. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t.” Thranduil said immediately, shaking his head firmly as he cut you off. “Do not. You have nothing to apologise for, you did absolutely nothing wrong. I am the one who was in the wrong. You will make a good queen. I should have told you this... I should not have gotten upset over such trivial things. Dresses...” He scoffed at himself. “None of that matters.” He said, glancing down shamefully. “I do not want you to think that I... that I do not appreciate you for who you are or that I wish you to be somebody else... because I do not.” He shook his head. “I love who you are, I love everything about you. I am so sorry.”

You could practically feel your heart soaring to the heavens. You simply could not believe that Thranduil felt this way about you and, despite your hurt over his words, you were quite overjoyed. You finally smiled and Thranduil took a steadying breath before he moved. He leaned towards you, slowly so you could turn or pull away if you did not wish it, but you stayed perfectly still and waited for him to kiss you.

When he finally did, it was like electricity. It was like something you had been missing your whole life suddenly clicked into place and you removed your hands from his to loop your arms around his neck and pull him closer. His own tentatively moved to hold you gently by the waist. When he broke the kiss and you opened your eyes again, you could tell by his expression that he truly felt the same, that he was floored by all of this, and you could see how deeply he regretted hurting you, making you feel inferior, second best.

“You will stay?” He asked then, still sounding a little uncertain, despite the fact you had kissed him and admitted you felt the same way. He was worried he might have ruined everything before he even got the chance.

You gazed up at him and you nodded. “Yes... I will stay. Of course I will.”

There was still a sadness in your eyes that broke Thranduil’s heart to know that he was the one who put it there and he vowed to do everything in his power to make up for what he had done.

“I will never make you feel that way again.” Thranduil told you, his voice extremely firm, his gaze sharp but loving. He lifted a hand to your face, cupping your cheek. “I promise.”

You smiled and he kissed you once more before he took your hand, leading you from the stables and back into the palace, back to the future with you that he was more grateful than he could ever express to have not forever ruined.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfic #lotr x reader #hobbit x reader #thranduil fanfiction

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asumi2020202 · 2 months

Text

Things I never felt before

Pairing: Legolas Thranduilion x reader

Summary: You are Legolas' lover, he courted you before you both left to destroy the one ring. You are a healer who is needed almost all the times and a motherly figure to the hobbits.

A/n: My Lotr/Hobbit obsession has again started after I saw my husband, Legolas, in a youtube video. Anyways, Thank you for reading!

______________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ___________________

The Fellowship had been assembled. Tens companions in total. Aragorn, the son of Arathorn. Legolas, son of Thranduil. Gimli, son of Gloin. The four hobbits- Frodo, the ring bearer, Sam, Merry and Pippin. Gandalf the Grey. Boromir, son of the Steward of Gondor.

And..Y/n, daughter of Lord Elrond. The only female.. Lover of Legolas Thranduilion....

Her father didn't want her to join, thinking she would get hurt. But her abilities, knowledge and skill is something that the Fellowship required.

The elves of Rivendell were sailing off to the Undying lands. Yet she told her father she would not. She would stay with Legolas.

The Fellowship left Rivendell after bidding goodbye. Arwen almost did cry to see her little sister go on a dangerous quest, she felt a bit of peace as she knew her sister had someone to protect her.

And so...their journey began....

_________________________________________

The fellowship were aiming for the gap of Rohan. After a while of walking the mountains they had stopped near a pile of giant rocks, some of which even looked as if they are stacked.

You handed a plate of food to Sam to give to Frodo. The others had already eaten. After doing so you blew out the fire and sat next to Frodo and watched Merry and Pippin train while Legolas was looking out for any enemies.

"One. Two. Good!" Boromir said, sword clanging against another.

"You got good Pippin" Merry said to Pippin.

"Thanks"

"Move your feet" Aragorn said.

Frodo looked at you and smiled.

"Ah!" Pippin squealed

"Sorry!" Boromir said. The two young hobbits tackled him on the ground as the three of you watched.

"hold him!" "For the shire!"

You gently laughed as you saw the two hobbits tackle Aragorn who tried to help Boromir. Aragorn groaned as fell on the ground as well.

Pippin got up and ran to you.

"Y/n I've got a cut on my finger. It hurts." He looked at you with his adorable little Hobbit eyes which melted your heart.

"Ah.. come with me, I will put some medicine." You led the little Hobbit to where the fire once was.

You were putting a healing balm on his hand. You turned your head and saw Legolas jump from one rock to another and stand on a giant boulder.

You finished applying the medicine and smile at Pippin as he runs to Merry. You got up from the ground and stand near Legolas.

Him standing on a boulder gave him better view whilst you stood on the ground, adjusting you satchel. You were shorter than Legolas too which gives him the tall height advantage.

"What's that?" One of the members asked.

"Oh nothing it's just a wisp of clouds." Came Gimli's reply.

"It's moving fast.. against the wind.." Boromir said, getting up from the ground with Merry and Pippin.

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas shouted.

"Hide!" Aragorn shouted.

"Hurry. Frodo.." you said as you guided Sam and Frodo to cover.

As crebains flew away, everyone got out from their hideout.

"Spies of ... Saruman! The passage south is being watched. We must take the path of caradhras." Said Gandalf.

You looked at Legolas as he gently held your hand.

_________________________________________

The path of Caradhras was difficult. Thick snow, extreme cold, heavy snowfall. Elves do not mind cold very much but the others do. So you and Legolas walked in the front.

You, Legolas and the others got stuck in the snow when a huge chunk of snow fell from above.

You helped Sam out of the snow and then got out yourself. Sam went to Boromir's side.

"There is fell voice on the air" said Legolas.

"It's Saruman!" Shouted Gandalf.

"He's trying to bring down the mountains" Aragorn said as well.

Gandalf started to chant a spell in Imladris to try and stop. But alas it did not work.

It was decided that the fellowship would go through the Mines of Moria. It was chosen by Frodo.

_________________________________________

Gimli sat down a bit away from the door. The Door of Moria was yet to open. Gandalf had tried all the password that he could come up with but it didn't work.

You and Legolas sat on a log. The two of you braided each other's hair. You saw Gandalf sigh of defeat. Legolas got up and walked around to see any incoming danger.

You went to Gandalf and stood in front of the door before looking at Gandalf. He looked at you.

"It is riddle......" You said.

"A riddle you say?" He replied.

"Mellōn" you said as the doors opened the Hobbits running towards you at once.

The events that occurred after that...were too cruel for all of you...

_________________________________________

The hobbits were shedding tears. Gimli was trying to get back in the mine but Boromir didn't let him. You sat on a boulder, unable to accept the reality like Legolas.

"Get them up Legolas, Y/n." Aragorn spoke to you and Legolas. Legolas came up to you and placed his hand on your back. You looked up from the ground to his eyes. He could see the pain in your eyes, for he too feels it.

"Give them a moment for pity's sake!" Boromir shouted.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs. We must make for the woods of Lothlorien." Reasoned Aragorn.

"Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, Y/n get them up." Aragorn said as walked up to Sam and held him up.

You got up from the boulder and gave Legolas a nod, after which you went to the hobbits, asking if anyone got injured.

_________________________________________

You and Legolas were close to eachother. Fingers intertwined as you walked through the woods. Aragorn was leading the way.

"I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox." Said Gimli as he almost got himself pierced by an arrow of a Lothlorian guard.

"A dwarve breathes so loud, we would've shot him in the dark" Said Haldir, an old acquaintance.

_________________________________________

"Mae g'ovannen Legolas Thranduilion, Y/n Elerondiel." Said Haldir. Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduilion, Y/n, daughter of Elrond.

"Ah, Aragorn in Dunedain. Istannen le ammen." Oh, Aragorn of Dúnedain. You are known to us. Haldir spoke, turning to Aragorn.

"Haldir." Aragorn greeted him.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of elves! Speak words we can all understand!" Spoke Gimli, annoyed because he couldn't understand what was being spoken.

Haldir simply turned to Gimli and spoke.

"We have not had dealings with the dwarves since the dark days."

"And you know what this dwarves says to that? Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul!" I spit on your grave.

"That was not so courteous" Aragorn intervened.

Haldir looked at Fellowship and then to Frodo.

"You bring great evil here.... You can go no further."

_________________________________________

You sat like the rest of the Fellowship while Legolas stood. Aragorn trying to convince Haldir to let you all stay the night.

Frodo saw Legolas look at him as the others looked at him too. He felt guilty. As if they are blaming him.

Frodo got up and went to you. He came to you and sat beside you as you opened your arms. He came in and laid his head on your chest as you hummed. He looked up in the sky and then closed his eyes.

Legolas saw you two cuddled up. He felt warm at the scene. Many would feel jealous at the sight of their lover with someone else but Legolas felt love for you grow further.

You and Frodo looked like mother and son. You ran you fingers through his head and held him close like a mother would.

Legolas smiled a little seeing you both. He imagined how it would be when the two of you would have children together.

_________________________________________

Night had fallen. Most of the Fellowship had gotten fallen asleep. Aragorn was with Boromir.

You and Legolas were in your sleeping place. He had re-braided your hair and you were currently doing his.

You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to untangle any knots.

"Melēth nin, what would do after all of this is over?" You asked him.

"Ah..... The first thing I would do is to marry you. I would still need to think of what to do next." He replied.

His reply made you blush a bit. The sad atmosphere lifting up a bit.

"I would have a big family with you, nin melēth. I imagine it every time I see you with the little hobbits. You would make an excellent mother to our little elflings." He continued.

Your ears had turned pink. You laughed gently as you finished braiding his hair. He got up from the ground and went to your side.

He sat down beside you and kissed you passionately. It was slow but filled with deep love.

Elves love once. They love slow but when they do, they love hard.

After a minute, his lips seperated yours. Your lungs felt empty before you inhaled air.

He laid down and patted the place beside him. You went to his side and laid your head on his chest.

Soon after you drifted off to sleep. Soft snores made Legolas smile. The world was harsh... But you both had each other and that was enough.

He ran his hand over your head, soothing you. He drifted off to sleep after sometime. He fell asleep admiring your beauty. He had said something before doing so.

It was what he felt since he met you the first time.

"You make me feel.. Things I never felt before..."

-Lillian

#lord of the rings #legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas x y/n #x reader #fanfiction #x you #x y/n #x yn #elrond's daughter #lotr #the hobbit #legolas #legolas thranduilion #legolas greenleaf #legolas lotr #legolas the hobbit #the fellowship of the ring

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mochi-marmalade · 2 months

Text

The Love of the Princess

a/n: i stayed up until 2am writing this :') possibly one of my favorite works i've written?? the title is from a song i listened to while writing, very dreamy vibes. NOT proofread, might proofread later. BIG thankies to @lillisummers for the inspiration!! reader is the daughter of elrond & celebrían :)

Legolas x female elf reader

3.8k words

warnings: none i think....

“My dear, you look wonderful.” Lord Elrond, says as he places a gleaming silver circlet on your head. “Thank you, father.” You reply, smiling. Truthfully, you are hesitant and unsure of what the future holds for you. Soon you will be traveling to Mirkwood to meet your betrothed, away from your family and the place you have called home your entire life.

A short time ago, your father brought you on business for a diplomatic meeting with King Thranduil. While there, you slipped away to explore. Though you had been in forests before, Mirkwood had a certain air about it, veiled in mystique. “You,” A voice cut through the silence. “I have not seen you before.” You turn around and come face to face with a pale elf. He is fair as the moon and moves nimbly as he walks towards you. “I am the Lady of Rivendell, daughter of Lord Elrond.” He looks you up and down, then slowly nods. “Where is your father?”

“He is… Meeting with King Thranduil.”

The blond elf cocks an eyebrow, wondering aloud, “Should you not join him?”

“I am on my own business to meet handsome strangers.”

He smiles and asks in a sing-song voice, “Is that so?”

You return his smile, but before you can ask him for his name, another voice echoes through the trees. “Your father calls, my lady.” You look between the elf and the passageway to the Elvenking’s Halls, and he dips his head to bid you goodbye. “Farewell, fair sir.” You say before hurrying away. Thankfully, you received only a light reprimanding from your father for sneaking away that day.

Perhaps life in Mirkwood wouldn’t be so bad, if only you could see that elf again. Then you remember that you are already meeting none other than Legolas, son of Thranduil, and it would be most inappropriate to have relations with others. You hope Legolas is a kind, reasonable person- you don’t even know what he looks like! However, if your father suggested you marry him, then Legolas must be an honorable elf. “We must go.” Your father states. Soon, you are on your horse, traveling once again to Mirkwood for a feast. Here you will meet Legolas.

After nearly two weeks’ journey, you arrive at Mirkwood. Though it is nearly midnight, you are greeted by the King’s stewards, who lead you to the chambers you will sleep in during your visit. You thank them and quickly close the doors behind them. After a few moments, you decide that the halls are empty enough to quietly creep out of your chambers. You take the same path that you found the elf on during your last visit, hoping to see him one last time. “My lady, it is hardly safe to be away from the Elvenking’s Halls at this hour.” You know that voice. You swivel around to find the stranger smiling from behind you. “It’s you.” Your worried face morphs into a grin, and you step towards him. “I was hoping I might see you.” You tell him.

“Oh? And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I… I am here to meet King Thranduil’s son. My father and the king have agreed a marriage would be most practical, so we are to meet tomorrow before the feast.”

It doesn’t take long for the elf in front of you to notice your troubled demeanor. He places a hand on yours, and reassures you, “Do not fret, my lady. I think the prince will take a liking to you.” “Do you know him?” You wonder. He chuckles and mutters, “You could say that.”

“What is he like?”

He looks up at you confused, as if the question was completely surprising. “Well, let’s see,” He begins. “Our prince is a skilled bowman, very attractive, loyal beyond compare, wise, and personable.” You suppress a laugh, and share, “It almost sounds as if you should be the one marrying him.” His eyes widen and he laughs, a sound that rings like chimes in the wind. “I think not.” He says matter-of-factly. You smiled amusedly before yawning. He advises, “I should think it is time for you to retire to your chambers.” “I suppose you are correct.” You agree.

“Shall I escort you?”

“I would like that very much.”

You hook your arm in his and he takes you through the great halls to your room. You release your arm and he says, “This is where I bid you goodnight.” You press a kiss to his cheek, and say, “Goodnight.” You hope for the sake of your arrangement that this is the last time you’ll see him, but at the same time, you hope your paths will cross again. You settle on your bed and drift into sleep.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ☼ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The next morning, you are awakened by elven servants. They bring you food, draw you a bath, and lay out your clothes. After preparing for the day, your father comes to collect you and take you to King Thranduil’s throne room. Lord Elrond seems to sense your anxiety, murmuring, “Do not worry, child. I will be here with you the entire time.” His words soothe you a bit, and you swallow thickly as you near the throne room. Lord Elrond announces your presence as the two of you enter, and King Thranduil eyes you from his seat. The blond elf from your encounter last night is present as well, perplexing you greatly. Perhaps he is a servant, a guard, or a steward of the king. Thranduil rises, beckoning to the elf and declaring, “This is my son, Legolas.” “You are Legolas?” You ask, shocked. He bows his head in respect, saying, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady.” For a moment, you are speechless, but you manage to respond, “As am I.” Legolas takes your hand and asks you if you’d like to walk. You nod and he asks your father, “May I?” Lord Elrond and King Thranduil both look puzzled, but Elrond responds, “You may.” With that, you and Legolas take your leave, walking out of the grand room and into the halls. Once you are out of earshot, you retract your hand and turn to Legolas. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! This entire time… You played me for a fool.” He reaches for your hand again, explaining, “No, I don’t think you’re a fool and I didn’t mean to lead you on. My intentions are honest, and I meant to tell you my identity, I swear. Once it became apparent I needed to tell you, I just didn’t know how. You seemed so interested in me, I was afraid you might change your mind if you knew.” You look at him, still hurt and reassured at the same time. “Legolas, you should have said something. I don’t care if you’re the prince. Even if you were the king, my feelings would not change.” You allow him to hold your hands and he lifts one to press a kiss against your knuckles. “I am glad. I look forward to getting to know you better.” You feel heat rise to your cheeks. You spend the day with Legolas and you find he is everything you had hoped he would be- and more. “The time of the feast approaches, shall we return?” He asks. You tell him, “The feast is for us, is it not? Could you imagine a feast without its honored guests? I think we must go… Unless we convince others we are already there by replacing ourselves with remarkably lifelike replicas.” He laughs, then places a hand on the small of your back to lead you to the mead hall. The feast is merry and all who attend appear jovial. There are many elves dancing and singing and, of course, eating. You can’t help but look at the attendees and smile, as if the cheer were contagious. Legolas comes up behind you and notes your smile, asking, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, very much. I have never attended a feast in Mirkwood before.”

“Is it everything you had imagined?”

“That and more.”

He places a hand on your shoulder and draws you near. His heart warms at the way you look up at him, mirthful and kind. As each moment passes, he can almost feel his affection for you growing. “Legolas, would you like to dance?” He raises his eyebrows at the unexpected question, but before he can answer, you take his hand and drag him into the middle of the floor. Laughing, you take his hands and whirl to the sound of the music. He can’t help but watch the way your dress flows and how happy you look to be here. Heavens, the look on your face- he could stare at you forever if you’d let him. The two of you dance for a while, then take a break to drink and converse. You look at Legolas’s flushed face and can’t help but ask, “Are you liking the feast?” “Yes,” He replies. “Truthfully, there are very few times I’ve had more fun.” You beam at him and tell him you are very glad. He murmurs, “Come, I should like to show you something.” You both steal away from the feast and you follow Legolas until you come to the large doors that lead to the rest of Mirkwood. “Legolas, we shouldn’t.” You warn.

“Do not worry. It will be worth it.”

You creep past the doors and run into the woods together, where he signals you to stay close to him. He says, “I know these woods well, but there is no doubt that danger lurks hidden from sight.” You are no fighter, versed only in combat with weapons. Here, however, you have no bow nor any sabre. Legolas looks back at you and it’s as if he read your mind. “I do not leave the halls without a weapon. I will make sure no harm comes to you.” He says, spinning a small blade in his hand. He begins to climb a tree, and, though you are wearing a particularly elaborate dress, you follow suit. Once you reach the top, you draw in a sharp breath. Naturally, you have seen the night sky innumerable times, but it still leaves you awe-stricken. “Gil-Estel,” You say breathlessly. “It is so bright.” You examine the dark blanket of the sky, peppered with glittering stars. Turning to Legolas, you can’t help but tell him, “It is beautiful. Thank you.” He gazes at you with such tenderness, you wish that he may be yours for a short while. Even if just for this night, you wish that he will stay by your side and grace you once more with his smile. You tell him, “I made a wish.”

“What?”

“I have heard that some men make wishes to the stars. I am not certain of the merit of this belief, but I made a wish myself just now.”

“I see. I only wish that I may be worthy of you one day.”

His response leaves you silent. You want to say, “Oh, Legolas, hûn nín, you already are.” But you cannot speak. His eloquence and timing leaves you dumbstruck every time without fail. His expression is unreadable, and you’re afraid he might think you don’t care for him in the same manner. Just when you open your mouth to speak, he says, “We should return. Too much time has already passed.” Trying to conceal your disappointment, you agree and climb to the ground. He helps you slink back into the mead hall unnoticed, and doesn’t stray far from you for the rest of the night. As the sun rises, elves begin to filter out of the hall one by one. Legolas is talking to King Thranduil, when your father says, “I hope you enjoyed your escapade.” You look at him embarrassedly, and he asks, “Did you think I would not notice? I admit, I still worry for you as if you were a small child, feeling the need to guide your every step. However, I have trust that you are capable of making wise decisions. I only hope that you will be happy.” You tell him, “I am very happy. Legolas is a good man.” Lord Elrond smiles and walks away as Legolas returns to you. “Are you fatigued at all? Do you wish to rest?” He asks. You laugh, “No, Legolas, I feel quite alright.”

“Your hair… It must have come undone in the woods.”

You touch the back of your head to feel that your braids either have unwinded or are tangled. “Would you help me with it?” You ask. Legolas looks at you wide eyed. “Me…? Are you sure?” He questions. You consider it for a brief moment- are you certain you want to take that big a step? When you look at him, though, your concerns melt away. You trust him, wholly and completely. “Yes.” With your answer, Legolas brings you to your chambers and has you sit at the vanity. His fingers are hesitant and hover over your hair for a moment before he deftly begins to detangle your tresses. His fingers are slightly cold, but it doesn’t bother you. He works quickly and skillfully, neatly setting your hair into pleats. You can’t tell exactly how many pins he uses to secure your hair in place, but his gentle hands make them nearly unnoticeable. After a short while, he proudly declares, “I am finished. You may now tell your friends that your hair was pleated by a master.” “Oh, really? A master?” You quip. He nods enthusiastically and you can’t help but laugh. Your smile slowly fades as you realize you must leave within the next few days. “Is something the matter?” Legolas asks sweetly.

“I must leave soon.”

“Don’t go.” He urges.

“I cannot stay here. I must go home.”

“Must you?”

“Legolas, I… It is hardly appropriate to stay with you given the circumstances.”

“Then I shall ask to court you.”

Again, you are taken aback. Legolas, though not always reserved, is acting uncharacteristically bold. You feel his forehead, wondering, “Are you sick?” He huffs in amusement, but takes your hand from his forehead and quickly regains his serious look. “I am being sincere. I would like to stay with you longer.” He says. Your head is swimming with thoughts of him, and your heart is racing in excitement. He calls your name softly, and you bring your gaze to him. He looks earnest, nervous, and enthusiastic all at once. “I would like nothing more.” You answer. He laughs and embraces you, his warmth enveloping you. It is caring, inviting, comfortable and unlike anything you have ever experienced. He lets go and straightens his tunic, uttering, “I do not know what came over me. I apologize if I was too forward.” You hold his hand, telling him, “Legolas, it is okay. I am happy too.” He grins and ushers you to follow him to ask your father. Lord Elrond looks surprised, but grants Legolas permission nonetheless. King Thranduil’s face is unreadable as ever, but he does not object, which you suppose is good. Your father then takes you aside to speak, saying, “I did not expect to return to Rivendell without you.”

“I am sorry.”

“Do not be sorry, I only mean that your presence will be missed.”

Tears well in your eyes as you realize you do not know when your next visit to Rivendell will be. “Do not cry,” Lord Elrond says softly. “Your journey has only begun. Your family will be ready should you need us.” You nod, suppressing tears. “And,” He adds, peering at Legolas. “You are not alone.” You turn to see Legolas waiting for you beyond the large doorway. “Thank you, father.” You give him one last embrace, and Legolas joins you to see him off. As you watch the horses gallop away, you sigh deeply. Your life will be different from now on, but you’re glad.

°•. ✿ .•°

You spend much of your time with Legolas, and he quickly learns that you are a woman of many interests. You are skilled with both a bow and a sabre, your fingers move expertly to weave baskets and plait hair, and you enjoy several forms of visual art. He praises your abilities- you are multifaceted and so resolute in your beliefs. He goes so far as to request paper and a utensil as a means for you to draw. Day by day, you explore with Legolas and occasionally stop to sketch the scenery or a species you may have never seen before. During these times, Legolas likes to watch you with deep admiration. Your reverence and appreciation for nature are other things he likes about you. Being the simple creature you are, you find solace just being with Legolas. He provides comfort and care you didn’t know you could have.

Then, perhaps months later, Legolas is called to Rivendell. “I must go.” He states apologetically. “Take me with you.” You plead.

“The journey will be dangerous. I do not wish to place you in peril’s way.”

“Legolas, you know I can hold my own.”

He seems to consider it for a moment, but concedes, “I feel you will be safer here with my father and the guard.” “Legolas, who better to ensure my safety than you?” You reason. That seems to have been more effective, as he sighs weakly before saying, “Fine. You may come with me, but we must return to Mirkwood.” You agree, and he hastily prepares extra supplies. King Thranduil emerges, but only to stare at the two of you coldly as you venture into the distance.

Traveling with Legolas is like a dream. Both of you are often alone in Mirkwood, but there is something to be said about journeying with him. It is truly just the two of you, with no chambers to return to at the end of the day and nothing keeping you confined within one area. You banter with Legolas often during the trek to Rivendell, and at night you bring your head to his chest. You gaze at the stars together as you did that night many moons ago, and you slumber peacefully drawn close to Legolas. He offers you lembas, which you graciously accept each time, and is careful to wipe away any crumbs left on your face. You almost prefer this life to the one in Mirkwood, but it is cut short when you finally arrive in Rivendell.

Your father greets Legolas at the entrance to the great valley and is especially glad to see you. “My dear, it is always a delight. I would talk with you longer, were it not for a pressing situation.” “Yes,” Legolas begins. “I offer my deepest apologies to you.” Lord Elrond looks at him for a moment, then begins, “Oh, no, it is not that. There is… something else that has come up.” You and Legolas look at each other with confusion on your faces, but Lord Elrond is already bringing Legolas further into Rivendell. “Am I not to come?” You ask, feeling a bit dejected. Father turns to you, and says, “My daughter, you must not attend this meeting. I apologize but the magnitude of this is far too great; it will not be safe for you.” You nod your head slowly, and make your way to your sister’s quarters. Arwen embraces you with a wide smile, and you each share what has happened in your lives since you last met. Eventually, your father returns and informs you that you may want to speak with Legolas. You look between Lord Elrond and Arwen worriedly at first, then heed your father’s suggestion. You arrive outside and there are several strange men gathered near the entrance of Rivendell. Legolas turns to greet you and, for the first time, you can see fear on his face. “What ails you?” You ask him as you rush to meet him. “I have been appointed to a task, which will be great in time and distance. It will be treacherous and… I fear I may never see you again.” He explains. “Do not say that. You are steadfast, both in will and in strength. I am sure we will meet again.” You try to convince him. He nods and holds your face in his hands, then presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Meleth nín.” He mutters, still holding your face so you cannot see him. Carefully, you raise your head to meet his eyes, and say, “I love you.” You can see in his eyes he is unbearably upset, as if he cannot bear to leave you. “Go. I will wait here.” With those words, he turns and leaves.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

It is many months before you see Legolas again. You see your people leave, and it pains you to watch the very life of Rivendell leave the place you once called home. Arwen and your father spend many moments together, discussing something that is beyond your knowledge. However, they also spend many moments attempting to comfort you. You have faith that Legolas will return, so you wait patiently, always watching the horizon for his lean figure. It isn’t until you travel to Minas Tirith with your father and sister that you finally see Legolas again. Arwen weds Aragorn in what seems to be a human ceremony. There you see him: Legolas, casually conversing with some people that you think you saw him set out from Rivendell with. The stout dwarf next to him sees you approaching first and gently elbows Legolas. He looks up, and with a grin opens his arms to greet you. Breaking into a trot, you launch yourself into his arms and he wraps his arms around you in a tight hold. “Legolas…” You sob softly. He quickly leans back to brush your tears away, saying, “None of that, love. I’m here now.” He holds you to his chest pressing kiss upon kiss to the crown of your head. “My lady.” The dwarf grunts, bowing slightly to you. Then he turns to Legolas to ask, “Is this…?” Legolas laughs, “Yes, this is her.” You sigh at the feeling of being in Legolas’s arms again, but you are interrupted by Legolas saying, “Actually, I have something.” He reaches into his pocket and produces a silver ring. “Legolas…” You gasp, eyes welling with tears once again. You nod your head vehemently, and Legolas slips the ring on your right index finger. Legolas doesn’t waste any time kissing you, in response to which you place a hand on either side of his face. When you pull away, tears of joy stream down your cheeks. “What’re you making her cry for now?!” Gimli reprimands Legolas. The elf simply replies with a smirk, “Gimli, have you ever been to an elven wedding?”

#x reader #legolas #legolas greenleaf #legolas x reader #lord of the rings #lotr #gimli #elrond #arwen #aragorn #thranduil #jrr tolkien #im in love #with him

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itsonlydana · 3 months

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Anything with Thranduil in it makes me happy. Something about taking Elrond's daughter after he does not accept the wooing our king proposed to him.

This Secret of Mine // Runaways | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

Thranduil asks Lord Elrond for permission to court you - it doesn't end the way he thought

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/little comfort

word count: 1,9k

an: wrote this bad boy in one sitting! The muse of angst made herself comfortable on my shoulders

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The moon stood silver and high over Rivendell, yet, despite the peaceful sounds of the night, sleep would not come to you. It had avoided you for a while and even if your kind did not need as much rest as the kind of men, the days you spent wandering aimlessly through the halls were beginning to take a toll on your mind and body; a constant ache behind your temple had formed and a pull came from the beating heart behind your chest, ever tugging on you to keep on moving or it shall stretch to tightly and snap.

So you kept on moving.

Down the corridors, over steps and stairs, up the open towers that overlooked all those who rested soundless and in a mockery of your state, but that did not distract you much. To be truthful, you were glad no one was there to notice how you walked all of Rivendell, head lowered to watch your feet cross wet grass, rippled stone, even marmor, and woven carpets, or held high to let your eyes wander over the high walls until they inevitably fell to the council, never hidden from your view despite the many halls you passed through.

The feeling of restlessness had taken over your body, pushing out any hints of exhaustion for what you could only describe as a potion of fear, nervousness, and a bit of hope that remained. Once again you glanced at the open council, at the silhouettes of the two elves you loved most.

They had been arguing for most of the day and now the discussion had bled into the night, staining the otherwise clear sky with heavy frowns striking deep lines into smooth faces – lightning had no chance against the thunderous expression that slowly chipped away at whatever hope kindled in you.

Great King of the Woodland Elves Thranduil had arrived not long after sunrise, his most trusted guard Feren as well as four others riding through the gates on what could only be a mission.

You, of course, had known all along that this would happen today. As soon as Thranduil had asked for Lord Elrond, keeping his eyes away from yours to minimize the unavoidable chaos and uproar that his presence alone brought forth, you felt your father stiffen next to you for he realized the question Thranduil would call for.

Thranduil had strutted past you, his hand fleetingly brushing yours rather than his eyes though a glance or smile would have probably calmed your father more than this loving and silent gesture of affection, so loudly proclaimed in front of his – so far – unknowing court and even as you had felt Thranduil's fingers on your wrist, had heard the gasps of onlookers and saw the sharp look of, well, disappointment and fury on your fathers closed off face, a rock formed inside your throat and uneasiness came in the form of a heavy hole that ate through your stomach.

Today was the day Thranduil would ask your father to court you officially and fear grew this would be the day this sweet love of yours would end. Thranduil had courted you in secret for years now, always sending letters and whenever you met, he loved you under the stars, whispering promises of proposing even if you both knew Lord Elrond would not be amused. Not after Arwen fell in love with the ranger, devoting herself to one unable to share the long life she had yet to live and always the romantic, Arwen would one day be forced to choose between her family and her ranger. Your father feared for this day to come, already he looked at her as if he had long lost her.

He would not accept Thranduil as your husband, was a bitter realization as you hard heartily turned your back after your father inclined his head in your direction and the distance could not protect you from the pang of hurt that followed his disappointment and spread all across every limb.

The two sides of this love were tearing you apart because there was this soft warmness of Thranduil's touch, the pink hues and bright sunlight, laughter thick as honey and sweet like it, and whenever he looked at you, held you, you believed you would never feel as utterly complete and fulfilled but then he had to leave and darkness took over. This love lifted you yet it had the power to open the grounds and push you down further than you had ever fallen.

You did not know how long you lingered around in the shadows of walls that had enclosed you your entire life but suddenly a hand grabbed your wrist and you were pulled around a corner.

"He will not allow it," Thranduil growled and confirmed what you had dreaded. His chest heaved from heavy intakes of breaths, infiltrating his voice to sound deeper: "Decades of allyship and solidarity" – he spat out the word like it was acid on his lips, tongue pressing against his clenched teeth – "all for him to stand there and dismiss me. Us"

Thranduil's anger normally presented itself in arrogance rather than this open display of unfiltered emotions but there were moments that brought out the dragon that slumbered deep inside his ancient soul and now, fist curled into itself and his eyes hardened, you felt the tremble, the roar, the fire that could burn down all around him to ashes if he unleashed the beasts he'd sworn to banish.

Your hand trembled as you lifted it to his chest, curling right above his racing heart and his eyes snapped to you, and for a moment you thought he had forgotten you were even there but then the corner of his curled lips dropped.

"Let me talk to him," you pleaded.

Thranduil scoffed rather dismissively, "Lord Elrond has made his point rather clear."

Now it was you who frowned in displeasure. "He is my father! He must listen to me," you argued and Thranduil lifted your hand to kiss your knuckles gently.

"I fear it is no use," Thranduil said, fingers caressing your skin in a language he otherwise whispered into your ear, the meaning more bitter than sweet. He slowed down, deep in thought and his eyes wandered over your face. "I told him I will take my leave."

"Leave?" You cried out and flinched as if he had hit you and somehow he had, his words strung across your soul and body not unlike a whip, leaving behind echoes of pain and a burn all over your heart. "There has to be the chance of another conversation! He surely is overwhelmed, but –" you stopped yourself only to continue lying for the hope to blossom again even if there was nothing but shade over your future, "he came around to Aragorn! You said it yourself; he knows you! The history of our people is intertwined for longer than we have been witnesses and–"

It was Thranduil who stopped your forlorn rambling with his other hand coming up to your neck, cupping it gently and pulling your face into his shoulder where your words left you in a shaky exhale, damp and into cold fabric.

You breathed in, nose buried into his red cloak.

His scent brought little comfort in this moment but you were desperate and if you closed your eyes, the pine needles reminded you of the days you ran around the forests, and the salt of your own tears mixed into the fragrance of his musk left you to think of splashing in the sea, his hair floating in the water like reflections of the silver moon. These adventures could only happen because you had been careful to hide all affection toward the King to let your father allow you the travels in his name, to sit in meetings under the pretense of bringing messages while Thranduil's hand caressed yours under the table and he kissed you breathlessly in the shadows of his halls, your fingers digging into the walls you hoped to reign over some day.

The decision that rested under your breastbone was easy to say out loud.

"Take me with you." You swallowed hard and shifted to look up into his shocked face. "Let us leave together and he shall realize our love needs not his approval."

"You can not leave – your life is here." Thranduil nodded at the buildings surrounding you and you followed where his chin pointed to.

The high arches always had enough room for big dreams, but now there was no space left for what you had, certainly, it would suffocate all that went further and above. Bathed in moonlight the intricate columns held up all except your crumbling composure. The connection you had once felt, the familiarity of paths you could walk in your sleep, and the marks you had carved into the many trees surrounding the place, all those tasted ashen in your dry mouth.

"My life is here!" you pressed yourself closer to Thranduil's strong chest which always proved to be a constant rock in stormy weather, "With you! You are the very air I need to breathe and a pillar that holds me up! I will perish if you leave me in this place, where my father can not accept who I love."

He opened his mouth to say something but a breath punched the words away. You blinked fast, there was no want for tears, not when you had to tell him what you felt if it was the last thing that could convince him to abandon whatever he thought would be best for you.

"Every time you say goodbye my fëa dwindles –"

"Meleth nîn–"

"No, please let me follow where you go – I cannot withstand another separation from you or the grief will overtake me and I do not want Námo's judgment yet," mentioning the name of Mandos sent shivers across your body and you pleaded further, because now you were still alive and able to declare your love for the life you could build together, "I would trade these cliffs for the leaves of your forest, the waterfalls for the springs that nurture the roots of your kingdom!"

There was a shift in him, you felt him pulling away, and desperate you clung to him, shaking your head frantically as he inclined his head. "No," you said, "No, no–" His fingers started to slip away from your hand, taking away any stability that grounded you, leaving you to grasp at whatever you could get from him, whether it was the robes you fisted into your hands or the threat of love that bound you together, you continued to shake your head, "No, don't you dare do this to me, Thranduil. You cannot do this to me!"

Thranduil crumbled, first his eyes suddenly took you in as if he would never see you again but wanted to keep you in his memory, and then his body followed close. His forehead dropped against yours, an arm wrapped around your middle to pull you close and you gasped at the shaking of his hands.

"Please–" you whispered.

Thranduil quickly silenced you with a kiss so full of longing and desperation that, although no sounds except whimpers swallowed by his lips left you, allowed tears to well up in your eyes, saying so much more.

When you opened your eyes his were shining wet as well and a glistening tear rolled over his cheek until it dropped from his jaw, darkening the collar of his blood-red cloak which covered you both. "We will leave together," he finally agreed. His nose brushed yours, "I will do what I have to keep you by my side, even if thus brings forth a divide between the folk. Your love is worth more than any allyship," his lips chased after yours, lightening the fire and hope, "Let me build you a home for our dreams and will face all the consequences."

This was how it was decided.

You packed no more than what you had on you and when Thranduil helped you in the saddle of his horse and you turned to look over his shoulder, one last look to capture Rivendell one last time, you saw the figure of your father, standing lonely in the nightly mist. You only realized that you were crying when Thranduil wrapped an arm around you to pull you into his chest and then the wind was already there to wipe the drops away to flow back into the night and water the ground of your childhood.

#📁files: thranduil fanfics #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfic #thranduil oropherion #king of mirkwood #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader

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floatyflowers · 2 years

Text

Dark Platonic! Father Legolas x Half Elf! Reader

After Tauriel and the heartbreak that followed, Legolas found himself falling for a human woman, resulting in your birth.

Legolas is happy, even though your mother passed away after a while of your birth.

The Mirkwood prince would be seen by your side, playing your silly games.

To be truthful, he doesn't want you to feel insecure about his love towards you, he wants to form that bond where you are dependent on him.

Let us just say that Thranduil is less than pleased about you being a part human, but warmed up to you eventually... After Elrond scolded him.

The problem in being half-elf is that you age like a human.

So, it's very hard for your father to see you grow up into an eighteen year old.

Legolas realized that you also still have to choose between becoming rather a full elleth or a full human.

He believed that you would choose to become an elleth once you reach adulthood.

But, he is shocked to find out that you wish to become a full human.

All of that because of a human lover.

Instead of being a decent father like Elrond, and accepting your lover.

He kills your lover without your knowledge, and firms it on an orc, which forced you choose to become an elleth instead of a human.

Nobody knows that Legolas is the one who killed your lover except for Thranduil, who is smug about the whole situation.

"Now, you know how I felt about Tauriel"

#tw: toxic relationships #yandere father #yandere lotr #platonic yandere #Yandere Legolas #legolas x reader #reader insert #thranduil #daughter reader

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agathne · 1 year

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CHAPTER TWO | THERE'S MILLIONS OF ME DARLING

Description: Thranduil and Legolas are transported to the past - where the late Elvenqueen was still alive - minor hiccup, she doesn't know who they are.

series masterlist | chapter one

Thranduil always prided himself in being able to feel the forest - to feel the very soul of his citizens that resided in his kingdom - for some reason, he couldn't feel his son tonight. A small groan exits his mouth - under the impression that Legolas closed his mind.

His beloved son - who was green as summer grass. His son, who has never experienced the life of a refugee - was difficult and hard headed. War was easier than raising children.

A knock breaks him free from his thoughts - he raises his head slowly, with the grace and dignity of a Woodland King. "Who is it?" he raised an eyebrow - there were none who dared to disturb the King's leisure time - none except Galion, but he has already sailed.

"It is Tauriel, my king." the elf replies - panic dripping from her tone. He walks slowly - descending from his bed and opening the door. "What requires my attention at this time?" he inquired, eyes searching for his son's figure.

"Legolas. Something has happened to him." the elleth rants, choking on her breath - fearing that something awful has befallen her friend. His vision is blurry - his heart is nearing collapse.

"Where is he?" he interrogated - doing his best to keep his fears at bay. "I-I don't know," she answers.

He loses all remnants of self control.

"My ada was gifted in foresight, I was not - but even an elleth like me can understand the outcome of this war." you take a deep breath, scouring through the mountains with difficulty.

A bitter chuckle exits your husband's mouth.

"The battle does not call for you today, melleth." he responds in a calm tone, holding his sword near his waist. It was his job as your husband to protect you and you son against harm. "- but it does, Thranduil." you interrupt him, looking back at the tents behind you.

"I can hear it - I dream about it." you explain, hoping that it would be enough for him to understand. "And what of our son? How can either of us live without you?" he argues, eyes nailing deep into yours.

You look back at the grassy terrain - back facing his front.

"Neither of us can live without one another - but our son. He is strong, he will live - he can live." you breathe - biting the insides of your cheeks. Legolas was your greatest accomplishment, today - he will be your greatest regret. "- but I am not." he reached for your forearm, pulling you close to his armored body.

"You are stronger than you seem, believe me."

"We've been sending men, sire - but none of them are able to make it through the light - they are not sucked in, unlike Legolas." she explains and the King's hold on your sword tightens. "My son could be out there - cold and starving. We waste our time and technology," he gritted his teeth - attempting to use his powers to scour Arda for any signs of his boy.

His jaw tightens as he feels no motion.

Thranduil stares at the light - feeling his son's fea through it.

He takes a step forward.

"Sire, it is not wise to do that." she attempts to pull him back, but he raises a hand - preventing her from touching him. "Tauriel, send a letter to Lord Elrond - he will deal with it better than I." he commands while charging through the portal.

The sky falls upon the King - and he is vanished into thin air.

Thranduil awakens in the middle of a grassy field.

His eyes narrow slightly as it adjusts to the warm light. He breathes a sigh of relief - sensing that the air was calm and safe. The bright light must've led to another part of Arda - and his son wasn't far from him.

He takes another deep breath - eyebrows merging into each other as he realizes that something was different. He could hear the flowers sing again; you're not supposed to be here, they taunted. 'What is that supposed to mean?' he wanted to reply, but the sound of hooves prevents him from doing so.

He attempts to stand up but a dagger was placed on his neck.

"What are you doing in the lands of King Gil Galad." the elf interrogated, and Thranduil's grip of the sword tightens once more.

"What is your name, trespasser?" he questioned.

"Thranduil," he responded - realizing that he was speaking to Cirdan. "Nonsense," the man scoffed - and Celebrian begins walking towards them. She was fair in the face - eyes of twinkling moonlight. Her stomach was heavy with a child; Arwen would be her name.

"Lord Cirdan, we are in the borders of Lindon - mayhaps, this man is lost." she explained in a calm tone, smiling fondly at the King.

"My lady, he is pretending to be someone that he is not." Cirdan responds, prodding his dagger nearer to Thranduil's neck. Her eyes trail down to the sword on his hands - her eyes widen as she sees the familiar bearings.

"That is my daughter's sword, what business do you have with it?" Celebrian inquires - exchanging a confused stare with Cirdan.

"The elleth who owns this sword is my wife - the mother of my son." he asserted - and before his good-mother could reply. Cirdan knocks him out.

next chapter>>

@murder0fcr0ws @cheyxfu

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x oc #legolas' mother #thranduil's wife #thranduil x elrond's daughter #thranduil x elrond daughter

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greycloudsinwinter · 5 months

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Can you make Yandere Thranduil and fairy female reader part2? Please. They have a few children. Half fairy and half elf hybrids. They have fairy wings like their mother. How many children will Yandere Thranduil want to have with the fairy reader?

YANDERE THRANDUIL X READER WITH CHILDREN

🪽Thranduil would be happy with however many you want but he is probably thinking 4.

🪽they have their mothers wings but there green. They inherit there fathers looks and his long beautiful hair.

🪽his children with you are his most important things in the world.

🪽however if he has to choose between you and them , it will always be you because he can always replace them with another child but he can’t replace you.

🪽he would go to war for his children though to keep them safe.

🪽he won’t admit it but if you have a daughter with him then he will put her on a pedestal higher then Legolas.

🪽the servants mostly deal with the children though . Running after while you and your husband have time together.

🪽even if you didn’t want the children you can’t find it in your heart to hate them .

🪽he feels the most joy seeing his family all together and happy.

Thank you for this request ❤️❤️

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #obsessive love #obsessive yandere #x reader #obsessed #obssesive #obssessed #yandere family #yandere hobbit #yandere lotr #yandere lord of the rings #yandere Thranduil #thranduil #lord of the rings #the hobbit

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crownedghostprince · 1 year

Text

That’s My Emotional Support Wife!

Legolas x Female!Accident Prone!Reader

Fandom: The Hobbit

Legolas and (Y/N) had courted for about a decade before finally deciding to marry. (Y/N) was the daughter of Lord Elrond, just slightly younger than Arwen, and after marriage she moved to Mirkwood to live with Legolas and her father-in-law the King, Thranduil. Legolas didn’t mind how accident prone (Y/N) was, sometimes it was even sort of cute. And now there are 13 dwarves in the cells of Mirkwood having to be dealt with whilst the Elves continue their parties, patrols and usual antics that the dwarves were unaware of until that day.

Requests: Closed. Requested: no.

Warning(s): None.

Note: This is sort of silly, so if you enjoy a fun fanfiction, this is the one to read! (Y/C) - stands for (Your Choice) and (Your Colour).

Word Count: 2,021

[Third Person Perspective]

(I couldn’t find any attached link to this picture from Pinterest, but it was under the account name “The Facegirl” when I found it. They seem cool from what I checked out.)

The dwarves were not happy to be locked up in the cells of Mirkwood under King Thranduil’s rule. The elves would just pass by here and there as if it was an ordinary path to take. These cells weren’t in dungeons or anything like you might expect, for the bars of the cells were incredibly tough and strong. Therefore, there was no need to put the cells in such an inconvenient spot and instead it was closer to the main area where most Wood Elves just wandered through. (This was also best as the Woodland Realm almost never had prisoners to jail).

So, the dwarves were trapped in their cells, waiting for Thorin to join them (hopefully with good news). They’d tried breaking out of the cell in whatever way they could think. From slamming against the bars with their shoulders, to kicking them with their legs and shaking them with their hands. But still the cell bars held strong. Bofur was the first to actually observe the elves, rather than sneer and ignore them like the others. The others didn’t wish to make eye-contact or even look in their general direction.

Bofur watched, as many elves walked through speaking elvish and looking graceful. Some elves were so graceful when they walked it looked almost as if they were floating across the floor, not even touching the ground. He struggled to tell who was male and who was female, but the sounds of their voices definitely helped - even if he couldn’t understand their language.

Eventually he saw a beautiful elf with (Y/C) hair and (Y/C) eyes. His? Her? Dress was a beautiful mixture of pink and purple that fell past their ankles and hid their feet. Thus, they appeared to be floating as they walked. Bofur smiled, appreciating how beautiful the elves could truly be. How graceful and--and she walked into a wall. This got the dwarves quietly chuckling from they cells.

Even Dwalin was hiding his snicker. They would laugh more openly, but they were in foul moods and didn’t want to anger the elves when the elves had an advantage against them. The elf maiden didn’t seem to mind - hearing their chuckles with her good hearing - and laughed with them. A shadow crossed the floor and Legolas landed with perfection as he came to check on his wife. The dwarves’ faces immediately molded into scowls at the sight of the rude elf that found them and cast them into their cells.

They continued to watch as Legolas checked his wife’s face for cuts and smiled when she was cleared to be okay. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and took her hand, walking her to the staircase to continue her on her path. She was not halfway up the staircase when she tripped and fell. Luckily, Legolas was used to this and simply caught her and gracefully carried her the rest of the way. He set her back down on the marble floors, kissed the back of her hand and returned to his position up high, watching over the area. She curtsied and although the dwarves could not hear - or understand it - she thanked him. “Ni ‘lassui en, Legolas.”

An hour later, Thorin joined his company in the cells. He simply explained how he had not taken any deal with King Thranduil and that all the Elves could...well...let’s not translate that now. The dwarves were upset by this news, feeling like they’d be trapped forever. But Thorin knew there was a Bilbo Baggins somewhere out there. And he would help free them. He was sure of it. Bilbo was not so sure. Every time he thought he had a clear path to descend to the cells, suddenly a bunch of elves walked by. He was thankful the ring he found made him invisible.

Some were going to patrol outside, some were laughing and telling jokes in Elvish, some were carrying wine and food, or decorations and others were reading a lovely looking book as they walked by. The thing is this: Bilbo didn’t have many openings to sneak past and not bump into someone. So instead he decided to follow them for a brief moment and saw them setting up a sort of party. With decorations and a clear view of the sky where Bilbo could see the tinges of orange and pink beginning to appear in the clouds.

There were tables lined with bottles of wine and kegs of wine and cups for the wine. There were a few tables of food, but mostly it was wine. With lots of seats, some elves already perched on the staircases and some elves sitting up high on ledges already getting drunk. Many were singing and some were possibly telling poems? Or stories? Bilbo wasn’t quite sure but it was a merry gathering that was forming.

‘Well,’ Bilbo decided to himself, ‘Time to find those dwarves.’ And so he walked back the way he came, sneaking down corridors of marble and past beautiful pillars with beautiful, intricate carvings running down them. Soon his eyes laid upon, a (Y/C) haired elf with a beautiful dress and stunning eyes. She was reading a book as she walked absentmindedly. He decided to follow her and see where he ended up.

They walked for almost half an hour when he heard the familiar, grumpy dwarves’ voices as they hushedly whispered to each other in Khuzdul. ‘Finally,’ Bilbo thought excitedly, ‘I’ve found them!’ He waited behind the she-elf, watching where she was headed. By the time he realized she was about to walk down a flight of stairs and possibly injure herself, a blond elf was by her side with an arm around her waist. Legolas was so accustomed to stopping his wife from falling down stairs it was almost a daily thing to catch her and gently lead her away.

“A, Legolas.” She smiled to her lover with such a soft gaze he felt sure to melt under it. Although the dwarves did not know it, ‘A’ was Elvish for ‘Hi’. However, they simply thought it was an exclamation like the English ‘Ah’ when one realizes they almost walked off the top step of a flight of stairs.

However, (Y/N) was so accident prone she was no longer surprised when someone stopped her from walking into a wall, or a door, or out a window and this case was no different. Bruises and cuts from falling down stairs was common for our silly she-elf lady. Legolas sighed fondly. “Hiril vuin, please do fall down the stairs before a most wonderful celebration.” ‘Hiril vuin’ was Elvish for ‘my lady’ and was a sweet and simple way for Legolas to remain caring, but serious, in front of the dwarvish prisoners.

Bofur spoke up with a chuckle from the cells below, “Is falling down the stairs a common occurrence? I would love to see such a performance everyday!” He joked. The dwarves laughed in agreement except for Oin who could barely hear what Bofur said.

“What did he say?” He asked Gloin who was in the cell beside him. His question went unanswered as Gloin continued to loudly laugh. Legolas glared down at the cells whilst (Y/N) simply laughed with the dwarves. She had a wonderful sense of humour - she has two older and fun twin brothers after all - and she was also used to these jokes which made it even more fun in her opinion!

Once the laughter had settled down a bit (Y/N) chuckled out, “I knew I should’ve been the King’s jester!” and the howls of laughter sprung back up again. Their thunderous voices bounced of the walls and echoed through the building. Even Legolas and Bilbo chuckled at (Y/N)’s joke. As the dwarves continued to laugh, crack jokes and sometimes just rest in silence, Legolas decided to simply ignore them and inquire about his wife’s current book. “Oh! It’s a book of Elvish poems and short love stories. I fell in love with it after reading the first couple of love poems. It even has some poems specifically to be read just before you sleep. Oh! I’ll find one of my favourites for you!”

She began to carefully flip back through the previously read pages, keeping her bookmark on her current page as she did so. Bilbo took this chance to quietly sneak past the couple and down the stairs to the cells in order to look for the keys. Legolas smiled adoringly as his wife quietly muttered the poem titles until she found the one she was looking for. Although the Elvish is truly beautiful and wonderful to read, here’s the English equivalent instead:

“ Your Divine Beauty,

The stars crown your head, As you rest peacefully in bed, And the moon bathes you in its’ light, Kissing you with all its’ might.

Such beauty even the sun bows down, So its’ colours may reflect onto your white gown. Pink, orange and gold, Dare not touch or enfold.

For they will not dare, To hide your beauty nor ensnare.”

Although Bilbo and the dwarves had no clue what she said as it was in Elvish, still they folded to the sound of her melodic voice when she read aloud her favourite poem. Legolas gently kissed her forehead when she was finished and sighed wistfully. “I adore that poem so much now.” He smiled down as their foreheads rested together.

“I’m glad you liked it, dear.” She grinned, returning his kiss with a giggle. Only a moment had passed when they heard approaching footsteps. Bilbo snuck back to a corner in case they should pass him and the dwarves returned to their original scowls as two Elven guards came to a stop in front of the couple. The woman curtsied to the guards and they returned with a bow.

“We’re sorry to interrupt, but the celebrations are beginning.” They explained, carefully watching Legolas’ eyes as he sighed.

“Very well. Then I shall not keep you any longer, my dear. Please, go enjoy yourself and do not wait up for me. I will join you shortly after I have finished my patrol over the cells.” Legolas kissed his wife’s hand with a tenderness and care you only hear and see in romance books.

“Thank-you, darling. I shall join them, but I shall still wait for you.” She grinned with a cheeky glint to her eyes.

“Why do I bother to tell you to not wait, you don’t listen anyway.” He chuckled sweetly. “Very well. Now go, before my father is disappointed with both of us being absent.”

“Ah, yes, I should hurry then. Take care, darling, and try not to roughen up the dwarves too much.” She kissed him once more before leaving with the guards to the celebrations. Legolas sighed wistfully once more and did not move until she was safe out of sight with the guards. He trusted them to catch her if she should fall.

But even if she is injured, they have healers that are always pre-prepared for her anyway. He turned back and before he could ascend back to his post, the dwarves spoke up.

“So she and you are...well...together, huh?”

“She’s my emotional support wife.” Legolas grinned mischievously, knowing fully well she could still hear them with her excellent Elvish hearing. A second later his ears heard her voice in the distance,

“I heard that!” And he smiled hearing her voice once more.

“You’ll do well to not disrespect her whilst you’re here.” Legolas stared the dwarves down as he finally returned to his post, just out of their line of sight above them. The dwarves rolled their eyes and proceeded to taunt him with funny comments anyway. All were harmless, but they were fishing for a reaction from Legolas so they did their best to make it sound almost like insults. He didn’t care enough to hear though, he was ignoring them and mentally reciting his wife’s favourite poem so when she was having a bad sick day he’d know it off by heart.

#the hobbit #thorin's company #x reader #legolas x reader #legolas #middle earth #fanfiction #accident prone reader

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thewulf · 8 months

Text

Let Me Help You || Legolas

Summary: Request - hiyaa, i dont really have a specific request but could you do something along the lines of reader hiding an injury from legolas and ofc he notices and takes care of her!❤️‍🩹

A/N: As always, thank you so much for the requests. You keep me inspired and wanting to write more and more and more! Hope you enjoy my favorite price!

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.5k +

TW: Insecurity, angsty, fluffy

You had killed thousands of spiders in the years of them slowly encroaching on Mirkwood. It was no longer a task but an annoyance to go out and take care of a nest. The only problem was the annoyance made you careless. You’d gotten a bit overconfident in it all. In the years you had been fighting them back not one had even come close to hurting you. Until today.

You were focused on a larger spider playing with it instead of just killing it, your first mistake. The second was ignoring the creeping spider on your right thinking you had more time than you really did. When you felt the stinging sensation of the spider jabbing its poison into you, you spun around and killed it instantly. Hissing in more pain than you could have imagined you ignored it and continued to eliminate as many spiders as you could. You would be fine. You would just have to head straight to a healer once you make it back to the city. Spiders poison did not work fast enough to kill you, only make you delirious.

Tauriel gave you a quick look when she saw you walking weirdly, favoring the side that had not been stung, “Is something the matter Y/N?” She pulled you back and asked once she ordered all the guard back to the castle.

Shaking your head as nonchalantly as possible you straightened up. You had thousands of years of practice to keep your face stoic even in pain, “I pulled a muscle in training yesterday. The healer told me to keep it easy, but I fear I did not listen to her words.” You smiled to her hoping she bought your lie.

She shook her head, “Why did you not tell me? You could have sat today out.”

“And miss out killing spiders? Who do you take me for Tauriel?” You laughed ignoring the growing pain on your side. Taking a quick peak down you wanted to curse seeing the green garment slightly stained with your crimson blood. It was dry by now, surely the wound was actually healed. You just needed help removing the poison.

The remaining walk back was spent in comfortable silence. You had known Tauriel for longer than you even remember. She had always been a constant in your long life. She was a few hundred years older than you and took you under her guidance early on as your parents were close friends. Poor families with strong daughters that wanted more than the living on the outskirts of the big city. Tauriel was the one with the plan, you were the one that followed always wondering what you would’ve been had Tauriel not been there?

Nevertheless, she decided she was going to be a part of the Silvan Guard and that was that. She trained hard, day in and day out. She brought you along once you were old enough to decide if that’s what you wanted. It didn’t come as a second thought as you accepted her offer to begin training. You’d worked your ways up through the different guards behind Tauriel. Finally, a few hundred years prior you had been selected by the king to join the guard. Tauriel was promoted to Captain of the Guard, and you had never been prouder. She was everything and more. A sister you never really had but always wanted.

You’d met Legolas properly the night of the celebration and even chatted for a while. It was not lost on you how his eyes occasionally glanced around the room and landed on Tauriel. She was truly a stunning elf maiden. It surprised you she had not been courted yet, that you knew of. Why wouldn’t Legolas be interested in her? She was stunning beyond measure, kind as could be, a true proven warrior in the field and the Captain of King Thranduil’s guard. What more could you actually ask for?

What you didn’t know was that he kept his eyes on her for security to the king. If he needed to react he was the castles first line of defense when he was home. For he liked Tauriel but only as a dear friend he had grown close to over the years. Ever since your arrival to the guard he had only seemed to have eyes for you. He was just simply good at hiding it from you. Only watching you when you were preoccupied in the ring training or on guard. He couldn’t help himself from just admiring you from afar sometimes. He found you to be the most exquisite elf he’d ever laid his eyes upon. The only problem he had was trying to get you alone. You always disappeared when Tauriel was around and Tauriel was always around, being your best friend and his close friend. It had frustrated him for centuries.

Even his father, King Thranduil, found amusement out of Legolas’s inability to string together a coherent conversation together. For as amusing as he did find it he was growing worried Legolas would never actually be able to figure out how to reach you. Thranduil was hesitant over his sons pining over the elf, but he had found in the limited time he had truly known you, not just heard of your talents, that you were a great match for his son. It had been almost a hundred years since you had joined his guard, and Legolas had grown closer to you but there was just something that was stopping you from indulging him. He had no clue you acted so distant was to protect yourself. It would be hard to pretend you didn’t have a crush on the elf.

You had nearly gotten to the castle before the familiar golden blonde elf appeared in front of the both of you. The poison was really starting to hurt now. You needed to get away from the both of them and down to the healers. You’d just have to think of a good excuse after a moment of listening into their conversation.

“Tauriel, Y/N.” He gave the both of you a quick bow which you only returned with a head nod for you were not so sure you wouldn’t be able to wince from the pain, “How did the day go?” He asked as he looked over both of you. Your heart rate picked up when he spotted the dried blood on the side of your dress. Legolas was observant and even as Tauriel answered him his eyes stayed laser focused in on your form.

“Successful day. I am positive we have not reached the nest yet though. We will be back out tomorrow if you care to join us, my prince.” She answered giving you a curious look as his eyes were still looking right at you.

He gave her a quick nod as if to almost dismiss her before turning back to you. Tauriel stood there stunned at his curious behavior before she walked away slowly hoping to hear the conversation between her two obvious friends. No matter how many times she had told you the two of them were just friends you would never seem to believe her. It was slowly driving her mad as the both of you seemed be so clueless over the others fascination with the other.

“Are you all right?” He asked after a moment of the both of you looking at the other, “You look pale and there is blood on your side.” His head tilted in concern as he stepped closer.

A quick nod, “I am just fine. A small nick on this side is all. I must get going to bathe now if we are to be back out there tomorrow.” Giving him a nervous laugh, you attempted to walk away but he was having none of it. He had let you walk away far too many times, and he wasn’t letting you do it anymore. He wanted to know you. He wanted to understand you. He wanted to spend a lifetime and more with you as he was utterly fascinated with everything he had learned and is learning about you.

You looked down at you wrist being held by his much larger hand then back up to those blue eyes you found so mesmerizing. When he saw you weren’t prepared to speak he did to fill the silence, “You are not fine. You are favoring your left side. You will not look me in the eye and that blood is not even dried! What is wrong Y/N?” He nearly begged while giving your wrist a squeeze hoping to coax an answer out of your stubborn mouth. A trait he both loved and hated when it came to him being on the receiving end.

You looked down, “It is embarrassing. Promise you will not laugh?” You asked him knowing there was no way out of this. When he was focused on something he would not let it go. You were his focus right now and you had a feeling you would pass out before he would just let you wander off now.

His eyes scrunched in concern at your request. What had happened in those woods and why were you hiding it from him? “I would never laugh at you mellon nin.” He grinned right to you.

Rolling your eyes you answered him, “That is a lie for you laughed at me just yesterday!”

He had yet to drop your hand and had no plans to as he waited for your confession, “I was merely laughing with you. Not at you.”

Narrowing your eyes at him you responded, “I was not laughing though.”

“That is beside the point.” He grinned knowing you had bested him, “Can you please tell me what is wrong then?”

“I need to go to a healer. I got stung by a spider. I was careless out there and got bested.” You spoke quietly hoping no others had heard. Your reputation would likely suffer. How could a Kings Guardself get stung so easily?

He frowned taking your words into consideration before deciding what to do, “Follow me. I will heal you. Up to my chambers.” Your feet started following him as he led you to his room. You had been there a few times, but this was beginning to feel different. He was casting gazes at you that you had never seen from the elf you’d grown to love.

“Sit there.” He pointed to his bed like it meant nothing. You hesitated as you looked over the pristinely made bed you’re sure a helper had done up for him.

“Are you sure…”

“None of that. Sit.” He waved you off not letting your brain give it a second thought. You watched as he gathered a few supplies from his bathroom before kneeling at your side.

After a few moments he spoke, “I will have to cut into your dress further.”

“You are lucky I am handy with a needle.” You nodded letting him know it was fine. You would have to show a little skin if he was to actually heal you.

“I will have a seamstress repair it. Do not bother with it.” He smiled right back at you before he began to delicately cut the fabric away. He knew he should not be enjoying this as much as he was, but he was finally getting some time alone with you. It felt like a miracle even if it was at your sake.

“That’d hardly be necessary.”

He hummed before cleaning off the wound, “It’s all right to let people take care of you, you do know that right?”

It was your turn to frown as you took in his words, “I must rely on myself. My parents live far away. My brother was killed in the war. It is just Tauriel and I now. And even then she is busy being the captain most days.”

Legolas looked up to you with a sadness you had hardly ever seen, “This may sting.” He spoke quickly in a much older version of Sindarin. You could hardly make out what he was saying. Instead, you closed your eyes fighting the growing stinging sensation in your side. It would burn until it was all out and unfortunately for you it had been spreading for some time. You clenched your teeth together as the spell worked to pull all the spiders poison from your system. When it was all clear you felt that signature wave of exhaustion come over you after all the adrenaline had finally started wearing away.

“Thank you.” Blinking your eyes rapidly you were trying your hardest to stay awake. At this rate it would be a miracle if you could make it back to your quarters without passing out due to the exhausting beating you.

He gave you a quick nod as he studied you. His concern only grew as he spotted your weary eyes giving way to your overtiredness, “Lay down. Rest your eyes.”

“Oh, Legolas I cannot.” You stood with a wobble for which he quickly grabbed at your waist steadying

“I insist. You will not make it back in your state. My bed is comfortable. Rest, mellon nin. I will be here in the morning.” He pulled the covers back guiding your over. He knew he wasn’t going to sleep at all. He was going to watch and listen to make sure your heart was steady. Your breathing was regular. He knew that you would be just fine, of course. That did not stop the twinge of worry as he saw you in a far more fragile state than he was used to. And you were trusting him instead of running away

“Thank you.” You whispered after he had pulled the covers up over you. Thankful for the night cover because you were sure your cheeks were blazing red. It felt oddly intimate to be cared for so casually. Nobody had really ever done that for you before.

“Quite literally, anytime. Now rest, I will see you in the morning.” He pushed you to close your eyes. And he was right. It did not take you more than a few moments to fall into a deep sleep helping your body recover.

When your eyes opened sunlight was hitting them. You had slept through the night for the first time in a long time. You peaked your eyes over seeing Legolas standing close but far enough to give you your distance with a brilliant smile on his face. You admired his beautiful blue eyes that reflected even brighter than usual. It simply was not fair that an elf could be as handsome as he was.

He took a step closer when your eyes locked with his, “How do you feel?”

“Much better. I slept very well.” You gave him a lazy smile as you sat up in his bed. It hit you that you spent the night in his chambers let alone his bed. Your mother would be horrified to learn you had done such a thing. But you had the suspicion he would never let such a thing get out to anyone. He would find a way to get you out of the royal tower without a second thought. This was Legolas. He would never let your reputation suffer on his behalf.

He nodded taking another step closer, “I told you my bed was comfortable.” His smile only grew into a smirk as he witnessed your cheeks flame up with color. How easy it was to get a reaction from you now that he could properly talk to you, “You look much better this morning. Much more color in your cheeks.” He teased you only worsening your reaction.

You looked down feeling his gaze too much, “You tease me so Legolas.”

He laughed softly, “Indeed. Is it so hard to believe I enjoy seeing you blush?”

You felt you heart pick up speed, “You do?”

“Aye, I enjoy everything about you actually.” He smiled feeling like he was finally letting it all out, “You’re the most interesting elf I have ever got to meet.” He only smiled seeing your shocked expression grow.

“What are you saying Legolas?” It came out as a whisper as if you were afraid of his answer. And you were truthfully.

“I love you. I have loved you for a long time. You have just never given me the chance to show you.” He grinned once more as he kneeled next to the bed, so he was eye level with you. He grabbed at your hand holding it in his.

Your eyes snapped up to his at that admission, “I thought… I thought you liked Tauriel?” You blinked at him more confused than ever. Had you truly been that oblivious to his feelings? You felt your hand growing warm in his.

“Tauriel?” he let out a low laugh, “No, never. She is more of a sister to me than anything.” He had confirmed what she had been telling you for years.

Licking your lips, you were sure he had heard your heart rate speed up at a rapid pace, “Oh, this is news to me.”

He smiled at your sudden bashfulness, “Is that all then?”

You felt the heat creeping up your cheeks, “You like me?” You asked him in response to his question.

“I love you.” He corrected you, “Meleth nin.” He brushed messy stray hairs away from your face. He was thrilled when he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you didn’t recoil or run away. You seemed more at a loss for words than he had expected. You always had a quick comeback to his words, but these had you stumped.

You whispered the words, “Meleth nin.” With the widest eyes right back at him.

His grin only widened seeing your expression shift from confusion to shock right back to bashfulness. He found you adorable in every sense of the word, “I’ve been trying to tell you for yours. But you always…”

“Run away.” You laughed bringing him to laugh right alongside you. The tension in the air evaporated in an instant as the two of you enjoyed a round of laughs shared early in the morning as the sun rose for the day.

“Exactly that.” He’d confirmed bringing you back down to reality.

After your fit of giggles had ended you looked down and away from his intense gaze, “Please forgive me for I thought you loved Tauriel. I did not want to intrude.”

Feeling his warm fingers beneath your chin he brough your eyes up to look right into his blue ones, “You must here me when I say that I forgive you. I forgive you a thousand times. Although we could have started this years ago it is all right. Please, will you let me take you out tomorrow? I’ll show you my favorite path behind the castle with the most beautiful flowers.” He paused trying to read your ever so stoic expression. When you broke into another grin he breathed out that sigh of relief he so desperately needed. He never imagined it to be so nerve wracking admitting such feelings to a friend like you.

“I would love to Legolas.”

He grabbed at your hands giving the back of one of them a slow kiss, “You do me a great honor, Y/N. “He let your hands go as he stood and moved towards the door.

Your face broke into a frown, “Where are you going?” It sounded whiny as it left your mouth. How had this elf made such a mess out of you so quickly?

He smiled not minding it a bit. He found he quite liked the departure of your usual self for one that’s much more needy, “You need to eat, meleth nin. I am grabbing you a plate of food. I will be but twenty minutes.”

You shook your head, “I can go, no need for you to make a trip out of it.” But before you could swing your legs over the bed he was stopping you.

He walked back over pushing you back down in bed for the second time in as many days, “No need to. Rest, please?”

You huffed, “I feel fine Legolas.”

“Meleth nin, let me help you.” He brushed his thumb along your cheek, “Please?” He asked once more now that you had calmed down a bit.

“Fine.” You crossed your hands over your chest trying not to argue with him. He was just being sweet. Let him do this.

He leaned down placing the softest, gentlest kisses to your temple, “Thank you.” He whispered before placing another kiss on your cheek. Pulled away he knew he would leave your mind reeling for at least the next twenty or so minutes.

“I will be back. Rest please.” He insisted once more as he walked to his bedroom door. Turning back to you he only grinned seeing you tucked so cozily in his bed. A sight he had wished to see for so long.

“As you insist, my prince.” You winked. Closing your eyes, you only heard his laugh before the door clicked shut. You decided fairly quickly that you could get used to this. Somebody to help. Somebody to care. Somebody to be there for you.

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