#thranduil x queen of mirkwood

[wareagleofthemountain]

Here’s a compilation of all my behind the scenes HCs that I imagine Thranduil and his queen shared in their domestic lives

Being that they often stayed up late working on paperwork, battle strategies, and other royal duties, Thranduil and his wife had a mental cookbook of DIY recipes. This came from the countless times they’ve whipped up a last minute dish made from leftovers at 2 AM. Including desserts and, as a law, they feed each other a spoonful of whipped cream whenever one of them takes the container out.

Thranduil’s wife loves to tease him for having a “Doriath accent” whenever he speaks in Elvish. Which he of course passes on to Legolas. Sometimes, when he’s pronounced a word particularly heavy in his Doriath inflection, she’ll chuckle and repeat it back to him just as he said it so he can’t deny his accent as he always does. But, for all her teasing, she thinks his speech is adorable.

Thranduil has a slightly lopsided smirk due to the burn scars on the right side of his face. Even with his masking spell, the right half of his lip droops down when he smiles.

Thranduil’s wife always takes care when approaching him on his blind side, touching his shoulder and gently brushing her body against his side to make him known of her presence before she speaks lest she startle him.

Thranduil wears low cut v-necks at his wife’s request. She loved to brush her fingers over his collarbone whenever she passed him as a sign of affection so he made it a point to keep that area accessible to her.

No personal space for the queen. Although she had her own throne, Thranduil much preferred to hold her in his lap with his chin atop her head during meetings.

Every night before bed and every morning before breakfast, Thranduil rests his head in his wife’s lap and holds her free hand as the other works healing salve into his scars. She’s the only one, besides his healers when he’d first been burned, that he allows himself to drop his protective shield around. He was fearful at first that she may be put off by what she saw, but she only loved that part of him fiercely and shamelessly.

Thranduil’s elk and the queen are very close. He often follows her around whenever she goes for a walk, and he’ll still try to follow her even when Thranduil is trying to ride him in a different direction. The king will have to tug on his reigns and put in a good deal of effort to get his mount on a different path.

The white gems were a just because gift for his wife, as Thranduil was so thankful to be married to her that he often surprised her with gifts.

When meetings become long and dull without any important topics being discussed, Thranduil and his wife will entertain themselves by passing a paper back and forth. The rest assume that they are just taking notes, but really they’re drawing. Someone starts on the picture and they pass it around, adding on to it until the meeting is over. The end result is always interesting and Thranduil has a locked drawer in his office where he keeps them.

The queen and baby Legolas often drop by the king’s throne room and bring him flowers they’ve picked while out on a walk.

The night Thranduil was crowned king, before his official ceremony, his wife and son crowned him in their bedchamber after everyone had finished getting dressed. They didn’t have a silken red carpet so the queen rolled out a long red bath towel. They didn’t have a royal scepter so toddler Legolas fetched a branch he’d brought inside. But they did have the crown, so Thranduil took a knee before his wife and she said, “by the power vested in me by Prince Legolas Greenleaf of the woodland realm, I name you king Thranduil Oropherion. Leader, protector, and defender of our land.” She placed the crown atop his head, Legolas tapped his shoulders with the stick, and Thranduil tackle hugged them both. He’d never felt more like a king than in that moment, and he always considered this his true right to rule.

The king and queen dislike being apart longer than absolutely necessary, and never tire of each other’s company. The queen considers their marriage as having an eternal sleepover with her best friend. Which is accurate as I think they have been close since childhood.

They made a game of hiding one of Legolas’s stuffed toys in various places around the palace. Once it’s found, it’s the other’s turn to hide it.

They can’t sleep unless they’re cuddling.

Whenever someone new moves into their kingdom, Thranduil and his wife make them a welcome gift basket filled with local plants and foods, as well as a few household staples.

The couple are good friends with Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian. However, the Queen and Celebrian are on another level. They’re practically sisters and declare a “no boys allowed” hang out session whenever they visit. They just wanna drink wine, try on dresses, and plot to take over the world (but you didn’t hear that from me).

When they were pregnant, the ladies took turns hosting vacation weekends at their estates.

Thranduil gets rather possessive of his wife when around human men, keeping his arm wrapped around her at all times and glaring if someone stares at her a moment too long. It’s not that he doesn’t trust her, it’s just that he knows human males aren’t as well mannered as elven men. Plus they tend to stare more and he hates that. Same for dwarves.

They rarely ever argue as the couple has always made it a point in their relationship to be open with one another. There is truly nothing that can’t be discussed between them.

The first time the queen saw how terrifying and brutal Thranduil could be in a battle, she was actually quite scared and it took him a few days to ease her back into feeling comfortable around him.

Whenever they go out for a ride in winter, Thranduil always seats her on the saddle in front of him and hides her in his cloak with her back pressed against his warm chest.

He’s definitely the type to shamelessly check out his wife from atop his throne as she walks by. They also playfully flirt with one another whenever they can.

Thranduil loves to nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist.

Sad, but the Queen’s body had been so brutalized by orcs that there was not enough of it to bring back for a proper burial, so Thranduil ordered the statue be built in place of a grave. On his worst nights, when he’s absolutely sure no one is around and fails to drink himself to sleep, he’ll curl up on the forest floor at the foot of the statue for some sort of comfort in order to close his eyes. He also sometimes pays it a visit just to plant more flowers and tell it about his day or how much Legolas has grown. Obviously he knows it’s an inanimate object, but he misses her so much.

He and the Queen have an inside joke involving Elros. Thranduil had hired the guard himself without the presence of his wife, so it wasn’t until the next day that Elros encountered the Queen while standing watch at Thranduil’s side during a public audience. The Queen was never one for formality so she was easily mistaken by him as a commoner due to her simple attire. When she’d attempted to step out onto the stage beside her husband as he spoke, Elros drew his blade and told her that she was standing too close to the king. Now, sometimes when she’s standing near Thranduil, she’ll take a few steps back and say “wouldn’t want to stand too close to his Majesty” with a wink. It makes Thranduil grin in amusement and Elros blush terribly.

Thranduil is constantly holding his wife’s hand.

During holidays, the queen sees to decorating the palace herself and always comes up with at least one fun craft for her and Thranduil to try each season.

[sotwk]

SotWK Flash Headcanon:

Thranduil never addresses his wife by her name. Instead he uses the Quenyan endearments "Endanya" (my Heart), "Ilqanya" (my Everything), and "Vanimanya" (my Beautiful One).

[Masterlist Link]

[imakemywings]

Youtube | Spotify | SWG (w/ notes)

i. Never Say Goodbye Hayley Westenra ii. An Historic Love Trevor Morris iii. Il Mio Cuore Va Sarah Brightman iv.  One By One Enya v. For the Love of a Princess Braveheart vi. There for Me Sarah Brightman vii. Let Me Lie Hayley Westenra viii. Feast of Starlight Howard Shore ix. Song From a Secret Garden Secret Garden x. May It Be Enya xi. The Passing of the Elves Howard Shore xii. I Am Stretched on Your Grave Kate Rusby xiii. Beyond the Forest Howard Shore xiv. Tu Quieres Volver Sarah Brightman xv. Thedas Love Theme Trevor Morris xvi. If I Could Be Where You Are Enya xvii. The North Remembers Ramin Djawadi

(Photo credit to Mike Blank on Unsplash)

[frost-queen]

Lady of Mirkwood | (Reader x Thranduil)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22@elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers @merlieve,  @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

| Meeting Thranduil

You met Thranduil when the Third age progressed. It was when the Necromancer unknown then but known as Sauron later on claimed the abandoned fortress of Amon Lanc to make it into Dol Guldur. Sauron infected the woods with spiders and orcs. The spiders and the orcs expended their reach claiming more and more for them. Infecting the very nature with their filth and death.

All the elves were forced to leave the woods. Those who fought back were brought down. Countless of lost elves filled the sickening woods. You were amongst some elves that were fleeing. The orcs had increased their stench to the part of the woods where you lived. With a few douzen you were. Fleeing for your lives as the orcs hunted you down. The woods had grown iller. Spider cobs were not too much yet in these parts. But a few spiders having expended their webs out to your lands.

Some elves wanted to stay and fight. They barely lasted long as the pack of orcs were too many. Sweeping them down in a matter of seconds. The others fled as fast as they could. Hatred, anger and sorrow grieving your hearts. You were running trying to stay out of the orcs clutches. The orcs attack made you stumble, dropping to the ground. Surrounded by death and darkness. You thought it was over. You thought you were never going to see the undying lands, but then a bright light appeared between the trees. The illumination blinded the orcs sending them back a bit. The light faded as you could see a small group of elves charge for battle. Lead by a High elf.

The orcs never stood a chance. The High elf approached you, helping you up your feet. The moment his eyes met with his, he was struck. Gasping breathlessly at your grace and beauty. The woods no longer having a place for you, he took you in. Thranduil his name was. King of the woodland realm.

| Life at the woodland realm

Thranduil was smitten with you. For the first time in many ages, the so cocky king found beauty in another. He threated you like a guest with the highest honor. Quarters close to his. Thranduil would host parties just to have an excuse to dance with you. He never let any other elf near you. He wanted you for himself. You sometimes dared to tease Thranduil by speaking to other elves, just to see his reaction. You loved how easily jealous he was. He would come over, pull you gently behind him while urging them in a polite way to leave. Sometimes he would lay his robe over your shoulder to hint to others that you were his.

Underneath the moonlight on a summer's day was when you had your first kiss with Thranduil. Forever giving yourself to one another. He married you a month later never wanted to be parted from you ever again. You became queen of the woodland realm. All the elves present adored you for your righteousness and kind heart. Whenever Thranduil dared to lose his temper, you were there to calm him down. Sometimes you would come along with Thranduil and his army in an attempt to reclaim your woods. When Thranduil saw his numbers dim and almost losing you in a battle, he gave up. Not wanting to see his people be slaughtered or see you in danger. For he could not afford to lose you, his brightest star.

| Legolas

Legolas was born with grace. You loved every little detail of him. Thranduil would be careful at first. For he feared to hold such a fragile creature. He feared he might harm it in any way. You would show him he could do no harm. Taking his hand and bringing it up to Legolas for him to touch. His fingers would brush against his cheek making Legolas flutter a laugh. On that Thranduil was sold. Taking his son in his arms and care deeply for him.

As Legolas grew older, Thranduil insisted he had his features from you. Everything about Legolas reminded him of you. With the coming of Legolas was Thranduil more careful. You were no longer aloud out of the woodland realm. Not wanting anything to happen to you or Legolas. You had to admit it felt a bit lonely being unable to see the old woods. Your home that you missed dearly. With each year it grew colder and deader. Plagued by orcs and spiders. Since you had no where else to go, you focused more on Legolas. Teaching him how to defend himself. It was you who introduced Legolas to the bow and arrow. When Legolas was old enough to have his own bow, he would name it after you.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[himegureisu]

Time

Summary: Your love language is quality time. However, your husband is the King of Mirkwood.

A/N: I was supposed to write a Mycroft Holmes/Female Reader. However, this idea popped up and went brr in my head and then my fingers. I needed to finish it before it went so here it goes my first for this pairing I hope you enjoy! (And good night for me because it’s 4AM also not proofread)

Pairing: Thranduil x Female Elf Reader

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“What was it, meleth nín?” Thranduil asked, “I apologize our time is to be cut short again,”

It was the nth time someone interrupted your strolls to whisk him away for a matter of utmost significance and to be honest, you were tired of it.

Trying so desperately to take time between the day to see him. To get a moment of his time.

He was a King.

A title that holds responsibilities he could not neglect. You know that. However, you didn’t expect to be pushed aside.

“It’s nothing,” you fake a smile, “You should go they need you,”

But I need you too.

You didn’t try after that.

Your handmaiden noticed your melancholy days after the incident. It was like he didn’t notice you were gone.

Yes, you did eat together most of the time. However, you didn’t pop by his office during your free time. You didn’t leave snacks anymore for him to munch on when he forgets to eat. You didn’t propose to walk so you could both stretch your legs. You didn’t wait for him to go to bed.

Contrary to your belief, your husband did notice your absence.

His days were often tedious and tiring. Your short visits were always something he looked forward to. The bright spot to his days so when palace staff gossip came through his ears…

“The Queen seems pale. Is she ill?” a soft feminine voice asked in concern,

“Oh, why would she be ill?” a different voice, an ellon this time, “Maybe she’s expecting a child!”

“She could be ill because of the child.” the elleth remarks, as another joins in the conversation,

“The Queen is not expecting I would know.”your handmaiden divulged as much, No, she seems dejected.”

“The King has been busy…”

Her words echoed in his mind because it was true. His thoughts wandered to those moments your times were constantly interrupted and the day you last visited.

Oh.

“Where is the Queen?” he asks your handmaiden, who exited the study, a book on hand for you.

“At the gardens, My Lord,” she simply answered.

“That’s for her?” he gestured to the book, she nods meekly, “I’ll take it to her. Go tend to your other duties,”

Your handmaiden scurries off in fear and intimidation to go prepare your clothes for the evening. On the other hand, your husband quickly makes his way to the gardens where he couldn’t see you.

“By Valar,” he mumbles frustratedly, walking through the foliage, “Where are you?”

Your soft sniffles give you away.

Between two trees, there was a hammock tied on to their sturdy barks. On the hammock, beneath a thick blanket, you hug his pillow as your tears fell down your cheeks.

From outside your cocoon, the grass crackle as slow footsteps approach your hideout.

Your book finally.

“Did you find that book I asked for?”

“I did,”

A different voice answered. One you haven’t heard from in what seemed like days. His voice.

“Meleth nín,” he breathed out, “Please do not hide from me,”

“I’m hardly presentable,” you sniffed, wiping your tears away, as the hammock tilts a bit on one side, “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting of sorts?”

“No,” he frowns, sitting on the edge of the fabric, the book left on by his side, “I don’t care if you’re presentable or not. I’m not the kingdom,”

Slowly, you emerge from your shell to be greeted by his silver eyes, dull in color much like your own has been these past couple of weeks.

“Oh, meleth,”

There were dark shadows beneath your eyes. Your cheeks were stained with dry tears and nose flush from mucus buildup. His heart twisted beneath his chest at the sight of you.

What has he done?

“Oh, meleth nín,” he said, taking you in his arms for a warm embrace you missed, “I’m sorry. I am a fool,”

He hated being the cause of your tears.

“You were,” your voice cracked, as you tuck yourself beneath his chin savoring his presence, “I missed you so much,”

“I missed you too,” he kisses your forehead, and pulls you closer, “I’m sorry that I didn’t reach out, didn’t make the time, made you cry, made you feel like this…”

Your tears fall once again down your cheeks to his robes. He noticed. He noticed your absence after all.

“You are my starlight, my reason to go on,” he softly declared, “I promise I’ll try to do better,”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I needed” you quietly admit, “I thought I’d be bother you already do so much,”

“You are never a bother,” he adamantly says, glancing down to see you also looking at him, “You are always welcome to whisk me away from the duties of court. I’d rather you than them.”

“Their needs are much more important than mine,” you say.

“But your needs are the most important to me,” his words caused your heart to flutter in the most endearing ways. “You are the most important to me. You do not need to vie for my time or attention. You will always have it. Though, I may not notice it at times you should not hesitate to tell me.”

“If so, can we just stay like this?” you breathed out tiredly against his chest, your ear to his heart beating soundly beneath, “I just… need you,”

“We can,” he gently kisses your forehead, as your eyelids droop down, “It would be a pleasure,”

“Thranduil,” you softly whisper, as he places his forgotten pillow beneath your heads, “Gi melin,”

“Gi melin, meleth nín,” his fingers tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear as you settled on his chest, “Sleep. I will be here when you wake,”

It wasn’t long until you did.

Your breaths soft and even as Thranduil gently places the book on the ground so neither of you gets stabbed by its’ edges. He pulls you the closest he could, you unconsciously grasp tight.

Just the way you both liked it.

He lays there quietly observing the heavens, where scattered white clouds and birds of the realm adorned the blue skies, wondering how he was so lucky to have fallen for a second time to you.

He didn’t know what time it was and frankly, he didn’t care when his eyes slowly surrendered to the thrall of slumber joining you in blissful rest for the afternoon.

He would do better. He was going to do better. For you.

[tamurilofrivendell]

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.

[deadlymistletoe]

Forbidden Cells

Pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Description: Years prior Thranduil had been torn away from you after your relationship had been discovered. Under the impression you had left Mirkwood he never expected to find you in one of Mirkwood’s cells when he became king.

Warnings: None? Thranduil’s father being an ass.

Word count: 1482

Thranduil stood in front of the large mirror in his new room, gazing at the reflection of the crown that now sat atop his head.

Whenever he had imagined becoming king it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t because his father was mauled to death in an ambush by giant spiders, orc, wargs and whatever other creatures had a grudge against him. It wasn’t because his mother went mad with grief afterward and passed away before his ceremony could be held. But most of all, it wasn’t without you by his side.

When his father had torn you away from each other, his mother stood idly by, giving him that look, the one that said ‘your father is right, listen to him’, after a moment of carelessness, he’d never felt so betrayed or heartbroken. Or so he thought.

When his father had come to his room later and told him that you had agreed to leave Mirkwood and never return for the good of the elves all those emotions only became stronger.

Thranduil never questioned his father’s words. You’d expressed your doubts about your lowly status as an elleth before, how surely a high ranking elf or even a princess from one of the other elf communities would be better suited to marry him, become queen when he became king, but he brushed it off every time. If you thought it was for the good of him and the rest of Mirkwood to leave, you would.

And so Thranduil learned to shut his emotions off, to be the coldhearted prince everyone, including his parents, expected him to be. He did what he was told, he stayed away from the cells in the lower levels after his parents forbade him from going there, claiming that some of the criminals would like nothing more than to see him dead.

He became a shell of who he used to be.

Thranduil glanced around what used to be his parents room before silently slipping out the door. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep and had no intention of lying there, brooding over memories of the past.

Hearing the sounds of celebration from above - no doubt drunken elves using his new title as a reason to party - Thranduil silently made his way towards the lower levels.

His parents had told him to stay away from them, but that was when he was a prince. He was a king now, someone who people trusted to keep them safe, and he couldn’t do that if he didn’t even know who was in his own cells.

Descending the steps he noticed that there were no guards, as they were most likely joining in on the festivals having already served the prisoners their supper.

Surprisingly, the cells were mostly empty bar a drunk dwarf who must have been caught sneaking into the party and brought to the cell until he was sober enough to find his way home without causing trouble. The only other cell occupied seemed to be the one furthest from the door. With the bars facing into the path all he could make out was low breathing and the shuffle of fabric against dirt as the occupant moved back into a corner hearing him approach.

Thranduil came to a stop in front of the cell, seeing the woman - elf or human? - who was huddled in a corner.

Her hair was long and tangled as shielded her face from his view. The skin he could see was dirty and discoloured by grime. Her dress was torn and…

Thranduil did a double take, the young king freezing in place. Despite the rips and dirt, he’d remember that dress anywhere. Of course he would. He’d had that dress custom made. 

That dress was the reason you weren't currently beside him as queen. After all, if he hadn’t given you the dress and told you to wear it to the moonlight dance being held that night then he would never have fallen in love with you all over again when he saw you in it.

He never would have risked kissing you, calling you meleth in a place where someone could walk around the corner and see you together.

You never would have left. But now… “Y/N?”

You looked up with a startled gasp at the familiar voice speaking your name.

When his parents had pulled him away to his room, the guards grasping your arms in tight grips and taking you to the throne room to await the king, you’d been terrified. Terrified of what your fate would be, terrified of how much trouble Thranduil would be in. Terrified of never being able to kiss him, or hug him, or even speak to him again.

And your fears were proved correct. The king had come back and had you dragged away to the dungeons for life. Or at least until his death, which didn’t seem likely to be anytime soon.

You’d been sure you’d never see your lover again.

But now… “Thranduil?” Your voice was raspy after years of having no one to talk to but now Thranduil stood in front of you, a crown upon his head, separated from you only by bars.

Thranduil struggled with words as he stood stared at you, poorly concealing his shock. Your face was just as dirty as the rest of you apart from dried tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes were dimmer than he’d ever seen them and there was no trace of the smile he’d 

come to love.

Suddenly he seemed to snap back into action when you repeated his name in your raspy voice. “Stay there. I’ll be back.”

As Thranduill left the cells, continuing down to the cellar he inwardly chastised himself. ‘Stay there?’ What kind of statement was that to say to his lover he hasn’t seen in years, who was currently locked in a cell that he was going to get the keys to?

Thankfully, the cellar was also empty apart from a few elves who were fetching more wine for the party above.

They didn’t seem to see him as he silently took the keys off their hook, retreating back up the stairs.

You didn’t know what to think when Thranduil disappeared downstairs. You didn’t know what his father had told him about you but surely he hadn’t know you were here if he was that shocked. Or maybe he did and he just hadn’t expected to see you in such a condition?

And then there was the crown that rested on his golden locks. It looked good on him, there was no doubt about that, but what did it mean for you, both as a person and as a couple?

Would you be free? Would you ever be a couple again? Did he still love you? Probably not. After all, he was a king now, and even if you were free to go back to your life you were still a lowly servant.

You couldn’t help but shiver slightly as a chill swept through the cells just as Thranduil returned, a set of keys in his hands.

When Thranduil returned to the cell he caught you shivering, and it made his heart pang. If it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be here. But now he would get you out and spend as long as it took to earn your forgiveness, and maybe even your love back.

You watched as he fitted a key in the lock, turning it and pulling open the door, and for the first time in years there was nothing to separate you from him.

As Thranduil opened the door and crouched down to your level he couldn’t help but notice that you’d lost weight, and although you were still beautiful to him, you were no longer the healthy, happy elf he’d fallen in love with.

Your breathing was shaky and you could feel your heart speed up as the young king tentatively reached out to rest his hand on your cheek. Your eyes slipped closed for a moment as he ran his thumb across your cheekbone, but opened when you felt him pull away.

He studied you with a sorrowful gaze, his face only inches from yours. “Can you ever forgive me for letting this happen?” He murmured.

You blinked tears away. Why he would think this was his fault you didn’t know, but you couldn’t stand him being so close to you and looking so down.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” You murmured, gently lifting a hand to pull his face to yours and connecting your lips.

For a moment Thranduil froze, before moving his lips with yours and wrapping his arms around you tightly.

You both pulled back, leaning your foreheads together for a moment before he scooped you up in his arms, standing and for the first time in years, taking you out of the cell and to somewhere you could be safe and loved.

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[despairinthedeparturelounge]

Melian

Thranduil x f!reader

So many things changed after the big battle, you hope this goes for better

Warnings: pregnancy, childbirth, mention of miscarriage, fluff and happy ending and yea... a lot of cringyness

like & Comments are very much appreciated

Autumn was late to arrive at Mirkwood realm but the early morning breeze put a smile on your face as you walked pass the garden in between quarters,

The weather was pleasent and freshening but even the gentle cold made the sensitive skin of your swollen belly to react in worst ways, you still had weeks to end the semester and the following winter was the time for the baby to be born, but this time was a bit different.

Wrapping the cloak around your body, you carefully enter the garden to find your first born training, more like playing, with the bow that was almost as tall as he was and arrows that were all over the ground, some even half deep in the grass making you question the power the little one hold.

Sun was shining through tall trees down on the golden hair prince totally unaware of your presents still, your smile soon turned into laughter when he tripped over and fell on the ground, "your ada was right about the hair, my little one, you can't see in front of you!" You hummed sitting uncomfortably on the grass, letting a shaky breath out, his head was quick to pop up "nana.."

"Soon with all the nagging?"

He shook his head taking your hand to help him stand, pouting his lips making you smile wider cleaning his dirty cheeks,

"My knee hurt..."

"Which one deary?"

He turned and dropped himself in your embrace taking your both hands and wrapped them around himself,

To you Legolas was always the golden ray of sunshine, bringing warmth and joy where ever he walked in, even when he was in your belly, the energy he radiant through you was felt by every soul you walked with

Your true blessing

Caressing his golden hair you kissed his head several times before drawing a fussy noise from him, turning around in your arms he mindlessly moved his legs around you to sit facing your frame, finally settling down, his eyes where quick to fall on your bump carefully touching it,

"Ada said, he will be here soon"

"So ada thinks he's a boy?"

He nodded looking up at your face, "what do you think?"

To your surprise he gently put his ear on your belly, "Leg-"

"Nana shhh"

Placing his small fingers on your lips you happily kissed them making him giggle in response,

"She doesn't talk to me anymore"

He admitted dropping his hand to your chest, clinging to your dress

"The baby talked to me last night, but now..."

He pouted his lips again looking for an answer in your worried eyes, you waited few seconds before placing your own hand on the side of your bump when a sudden sharp pain passed through your spine, your breath hitched in your throat trying not to scare the child in your arms,

"Let's play a game okay?" You let out a sob while smiling "let's see how fast you can get your ada for me, alright my elfling?" Patting his back you helped him stand back on his feet before running back to the chambers,

Trying your best to stand up with shaky legs another trail of pain burnt through your abdomen,

Moving your cloak aside to walk faster than the growing pain that was taking all over your body,

"Not now, no no no not now!!"

You cried walking up the stairs, "lady Y/n!" You heard someone but before taking a look around your vision wet blur.

You woke up from what it felt to be hours with a sharp pain all over your body, "my lady you must stay awake"

"It's too soon for labor" you panted looking at the healers standing next to your bed

"But it is happening and i need you to stay conscious my queen"

Dressed up in sweat and tear you were crying with every breath you took, screaming.

The quarter's doors swing open only to reveal your worried husband, "y/n.."

"Thranduil... i can't... i can't do it"

You begged and cried as you gripped his sleeve to pull him closer,

He carefully kissed your forehead while moving your hair away from your wet face, "i can't, i can't lose this one"

Your sobbing got louder as he touched the sensitive skin of your arms to help you sit accordingly, "you're not gonna lose it, you're not gonna lose anything" taking your trembling chin in his hand "look at me, meleth nìn" kissing your eyes he gave you time to calm down and catch your breath.

"If i lose this one, it will be the third" sobbing harder you squeezed his arm harder when another stroke of pain hit you, "three..."

His eyes were filled with tears watching you in this condition "The other two didn't make it this far my love, i know how you feel if i could take the pain or make it go away i would!" He sounded helpless looking in your eyes, "i would bear the pain to last bit cause i can't see you this way" bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

You cried more feeling the contractions starting, "this one's stronger can't you feel it?"

He whispered holding your hand tighter,

"I can't feel anything! It was nothing like when i had our son" shaking your head you let out another painful cry fearing for your little elf to hear,

"There's a battle field, a war difference between these two,"

Holding his shoulder in your hand you placed the other hand on your bump to force a pressure on it,

"I'm not the same as i was, my body is not the same, i can't" it was healed but your body was still carrying the scars and your mind was no better, unable to process the importance of the life you were delivering.

Giving it all your energy you started pushing as the maiden rubbed your sore spine,

Screaming with pain your hand drop to the headboard of the bed as another maid reached you.

The windows were all open since you were sweating your gown wet and between all the screams and cursing you heard your son crying from behind the closed doors and you could swear you heard him calling for you,

Searching for your husband you mouthed a please before looking at the door again, "Thranduil please, he'll cry to the point of fainting"

"Lady Y/n has a strong body my lord, you can go" an elderly woman said before turning his attention back to you, "i'll be back soon" you blinked for assurance, forgetting your pain for a moment

"Almost there my lady, just one more" squeezing the mattress in your fist you gave in to just make this go away as soon as possible.

On the other side of the door Thranduil tried to comfort his first born, only to have him crying silently in his arms "can we go to nana now?"

"Soon we will dear one,"

"I don't like the baby" he stated playing with the pattern drawn on his father's collar, "may i ask why?"

"She's hurting nana, i saw her crying too it was for the baby in her" he mumbled not looking up at his father, "your nana is one of the strongest elves i've ever seen!" He said sitting on the edge of his chair putting his boy to sit on the table before him, "she fought in a battle so big! So brave. She's an excellent warrior with a talent you never seen when shooting an arrow"

Legolas was now mesmerised but his father's words, no sign of crying or tearing up

"A perfect fighter"

"Did she cried there too?" He asked curiously

"In the battlefield? No but she did cry after"

He whispered fixing the little boy's hair

"Don't tell her i said this!" He placed his index finger on his nose only for Legolas to repeat it afterward "i won't!"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He smiled in return when a knock on the door took both their attention, "my lord!"

"Y/n.." he said before standing up and running to the quarters where his wife was, he hesitated for a second before entering the room thinking about all the possible scenes he will face, not ready for any of them.

The doors flew open and the maid bow down smiling "so on time my king!" He let out the breath he was holding and walked towards the bed seeing you holding a wrap of cloth,

"Are you alright, meleth?" The whisper came out of his mouth weak but seeing your small smile was a relief, "i'm well, we both are"

Your head turned slightly to right pointing to the small creature in your arms, "it's a girl"

You cried looking back at him as he sat next to you looking at her more carefully, silver bright hair with two of the biggest blue irises ever seen, the perfect girl, your perfect girl.

"Her eyes are open!" He was surprised looking at you with a big smile

"She was so eager to be here my lord" a maiden said fixing the new gown around your shoulders

"Do you want to hold her?" You offered and he willingly accepted for his girl to be placed in his arms, "Legolas was right" you said placing your chin on his arm looking at the corner of the open door, seeing two eyes peaking inside.

You smiled leaning forward a little, "i wish Legolas was here, he knew how to treat my pains away" pressing your lips together you looked over one more time to see him still standing there, doubting.

Letting out a fake moan of pain and he was quick to run and approach you from other side of the bed, crawling to reach your frame, waisting no time he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you so tightly kissing your cheek,

"Uh my wonderful prince! You're here! Talking all my pain away" you said breathing in his sweet smell

Still holding you tightly his eyes wandered around, "is that the baby?"

"That's her," Thranduil said removing the cloth more to reveal her face.

Legolas reached his hand so carefully and touched the girl's forehead like how he did with your bump proving once more how much of an angle he is.

"What do we call her?"

You looked between them two asking,

"Melian,"

Your husband said staring at the girl in his arms, "since she is a precious gift, her name must be of the same value."

You smiled kissing his shoulder before resting your head on it.

[fili-urzudel]

Should You Wish (Thranduil x OC)

I'm not back! Just clearing out my drafts.

This was inspired by a piece of art I saw somewhere quite a while ago, where Thranduil went completely blind after the dragon's attack.

Summary: A servant has been serving the royals of the Greenwood for years. When the King loses his wife and his sight in a battle against a dragon on the borderlands, the whole kingdom is changed. The servant would quite like to help Thranduil achieve a sense of normalcy again; she's just not sure what that is for him.

Warnings: Brief descriptions of injury, permanent disability. Some fluff.

A hundred years was, in fact, a mere blink in the eyes of an elf. Ithronel knew. She had been serving the royal family for nearly two.

But the day the king stumbled back to Mirkwood on the arms of his compatriots, face stabilized with field medicine but still horrifically destroyed, eyes blank and cloudy, time slowed. It slowed as the elves waited for their queen to return, and she never did. It slowed as she, along with countless others, alternated between trying to help the healers and waiting shakily, anxiously for news of their dear king's health.

It slowed as he did not show his face for days that turned into weeks, despite the healer's assurances they had made him as well as he could be. It slowed as she was required to leave his food on a table, the room empty, and she was only allowed to clean his quarters one room at a time, always with him in a different chamber. It slowed as the king's throne sat, unused, and each day she and the other servants refused to let it collect even one particle of dust.

"Tell no one," the healer warned her in a low voice. "No one who needs not know shall, but the King... he has lost his sight. We could not repair it." Ithronel grimaced, not out of malice, but pity, which she knew the king would hate to feel directed at him. Still, losing one's sight was a great tragedy. Along with losing his love, she worried that he may not survive.

But survive he did, and he seemed rather anxious to prove it. Just twelve weeks later, or at least that is how long Ithronel assumed had passed, he began to try to return to his normal life. The throne was untouched, but he let himself be in the same rooms as his servants and advisors, conducting business in his consulting chambers.

Another few days, and Ithronel was allowed to clean his office space as he took his supper there. She entered quietly, before resolving to make enough noise that he would know she was there. "Your majesty," she announced her presence. "I am just here to tidy your office."

"Come in," he says in a flatly modulated tone. Not dejected, not disgusted. Simply emotionless.

She quickly got to work, kneeling under the desk to gather a dropped quill and a few sheets of paper.

"What is your name?" He asked, unprompted, and she nearly hit her head on the underside of the large desk.

She stood to address him, wanting to respect him even if he could not appreciate the gesture. "Ithronel, my king."

She had introduced herself to him many times before, but with so many servants and subjects, he had more important names to remember.

He gave a slight nod, saying nothing more.

Another few years, and she again found herself in the lone company of the king, cleaning his slightly-more-intimate-and-comfortable study. He sat in an armchair, staring at the fire. He had no other activity to occupy him, and Ithronel supposed he was deep in thought, perhaps considering more deeply the book he held in his hand.

She started at the bookshelves and worked her way down, before noticing that the curtains, made of velvet, needed replaced. "I will be right back, Your Majesty," she warned him before he heard the distinct clicks of a door opened and closed.

She took them down and replaced them with dust-free facsimiles one by one, aware of the way King Thranduil's head tilted just slightly each time he heard her step from her small stool back onto the ground.

She had scarcely finished folding the final curtain to be taken to the laundry when he spoke.

"Ithronel?" She froze. It was the first time the King has ever used her name. It sounded so... so meek, so humble. She was astounded that he must have guessed it was her purely by the sound of her voice.

"Yes, my king?"

"Could you please read this to me?" His voice was deathly quiet, embarrassed. "I cannot see it."

She walked closer, and she could see the way he tensed as he heard her footsteps approach. Perhaps he can see my shadow move as well, she pondered silently.

She gently took the book from him, their fingers brushing briefly. "A history book?"

"I thought... sometimes I imagine what they will say of me," Thranduil faltered. "I suppose it is comforting to know how objectively those stories are told."

Ithronel frowned. "Would you mind if I read you something else?"

Thranduil turned his head slightly, to the sound of her voice over his shoulder. "What did you have in mind?"

Ithronel tried to browse the shelves quickly, not wanting to make him impatient. "Ah!" she exclaimed suddenly, making him whip his head in her direction. "Sorry, I just thought of something. What about..." she rifled through her bag that sat by the door. "The Solstician Healer?"

"What is that?" Thranduil asked, only a bit derisively.

"It's a fictional story," Ithronel said carefully. "I don't want to give away too much, but it has a very nice message. It's a nice way to end the day, I think."

"You've read it before?"

"This is my fifth time," she admitted. "I read it first when I was only ninety."

"Don't you tire of it?"

"No," she responded easily. "I've read many other books, but the feeling this one gives me never goes away, no matter how many times I read it."

"Then I suppose it is a welcome diversion."

Thranduil's eyes drifted closed of their own accord, tired from not blinking and dry from the fire. And perhaps he liked the sound of Ithronel's voice. It was animated, more active than the voice either of his parents had ever used when speaking with him, but it was also gentle, blending perfectly with the crackles of the fireplace in front of him.

He heard footsteps moving, and only then did he realize she had stopped reading. He considered asking why. He then considered that perhaps she was tired, as tired as he, and though he was king, he had no right to demand of her to give up her rest for him.

He heard her come closer, and urged himself to continue looking... well, calm, he supposed. He felt a blanket spread across his shoulders, her fingers briefly brushing across his collarbone as she covered him. "Sleep well, my king," she whispered, her voice startlingly close.

"Thank you, I will try."

The words had her nearly jumping back. "I'm sorry, your majesty," she said, flustered. "I thought you were already asleep. I'll just, um, I'll be going now--"

"Will you come back? I would quite like to hear the next chapter." He had lost the plot already, but he was willing to try to catch up.

She hesitated for a long moment. "If you should wish it of me, of course I shall."

To dream of a fire and voice that did not belong to a dragon was most pleasant indeed.

[runesandramblings]

Violent Delights

Word Count: 6200

Pairings: Kili x reader

Warnings: Unhappy arranged marriage but nothing violent or abusive

Description: A forbidden romance blossoms between King Thranduil's arranged bride to be and the Prince of Erebor. (Loosely inspired by Romeo & Juliet without the death part.)

Will make a part 2 if you guys want it. :)

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which as they kiss consume.

The breeze felt wonderful against your skin after being indoors for so long. You inhaled deeply, allowing the fresh scent of the forest to fill your lungs as you relished in the sounds around you. The chirping birds, the rustling leaves… The walls you’d been kept behind were quiet, far too quiet for your taste. You were used to the sounds of life in the forest, and to be surrounded by the familiar noises once again filled you with delight. 

“Lady (Y/N), we should probably get back.” 

Temporarily, at least. 

You turned to look back at your escort. Tauriel, the captain of King Thranduil’s guard, had been reassigned as your personal escort the day you’d arrived. She was around your age, both of you quite young for elves, and in spite of the differences in your position she’d grown to be a close friend. Your only friend, really. 

“You don’t have to call me that.” You reminded her once again. 

She smiled, and you knew she would continue no matter how many times you told her otherwise.

“You are a lady, are you not? Soon to be the queen?” 

You grimaced at the reminder.

“Unfortunately.” You muttered under your breath. It was probably loud enough for her to hear, but you didn’t care. She was well aware of your feelings on the arrangement. 

You had not come to the kingdom under your own will. Your father, a high lord of another elven kingdom, had desired an alliance between your people and the much more powerful elves of Mirkwood. In exchange for protection and trade agreements, he’d offered King Thranduil your hand. You were both surprised the king had actually accepted, and as soon as word arrived of his agreement to the terms you’d been sent off to Mirkwood the very same afternoon. 

It was well known to many that the king had tragically lost his wife in a battle against orcs many years before. You were as shocked as anyone that he’d agreed to marry again, after he’d been intentionally alone for so many years. Upon your arrival he had been quick to inform you that the marriage was one purely of convenience, as your people had much to offer Mirkwood. Outside of that one conversation, you had not spent any time alone with the king. You’d not spent any time with him at all, really. Aside from the occasional dinner, which was also usually attended by his son, you had only seen Thranduil a handful of times since you’d arrived in Mirkwood a month before.

He was not unkind. From the small interactions you’d had with him he did not appear to be cruel or malicious. You sensed his hardened exterior had a lot to do with the loss of his first wife, and you could not fault him for that. For the most part since your arrival you had been left to your own devices within the walls of the kingdom. Thranduil had given you your own private chambers. They were large and luxurious, with the finest silken tapestries and hand carved furniture you could imagine. Your time was yours alone, as the king never sought an audience with you, and you spent it as you pleased. You’d grown close to Tauriel very quickly, and Thranduil’s son Legolas was also good company. 

Though you could hardly complain about the lavish treatment and unending free time, it had grown into a lonely existence. Your chambers, though massive, felt cold and empty without someone to share it with. You’d explored every nook and cavern of Mirkwood, read every book and parchment in the library, and quickly grew tired of the same mundane routine you’d fallen into. Which, subsequently, led to your trip outside of the kingdom walls with Tauriel. 

Speaking of Tauriel. You felt her step closer to you as she whispered in your ear.

“It could be far worse, (Y/N). I know this is not what you wanted, but Thranduil is a fair and noble man. You will have a good life here.” 

You knew she was right. As a highborn lady in your home kingdom, you’d watched many friends married off to unsavory men over the years. Of all the arrangements you could have ended up with, you’d been matched to the King of Mirkwood. You knew you would live a good life, a luxurious life. But you also knew you were walking into a loveless marriage, and the prospect of being alone pained you. Elves lived long lives, and you couldn’t imagine being a wife in name only for a thousand years or longer. You desired love and true companionship. 

As you looked back at her, nodding your head in resignation of the truth you knew she spoke, she gestured over her shoulder towards the direction of the gate. Time to return. You relented in defeat, following her as she began winding her way back through the woodland trails. The forest was safe now, the spiders having been driven off for good shortly after the Battle of the Five. The king was still reluctant to allow anyone to leave, and it had taken some persuasion on Tauriel’s part to get him to allow the adventure. You hoped he would consent to regular walks in the forest, so long as you didn’t try to abuse the privilege. He did not strike you as a controlling man, but he was certainly protective of his kingdom and those within it.

You took one last, deep breath of the fresh air before you stepped through the heavily guarded doors behind Tauriel. As you turned to say your goodbyes for the evening, you were approached by a taller, dark haired elf. You recognized him as one of Thranduil’s personal servants as he bowed before you. 

“Lady (Y/N), the king has requested an audience.” 

You looked between the messenger and Tauriel, unable to hide the expression of surprise that crossed your features. Thranduil had sent for you? 

Tauriel nodded politely to you as she bowed, dismissing herself as the servant gestured for you to follow him. 

“You know where to find me should you need me, my lady.” She said before turning and departing.

You followed the servant down the winding corridors, through the only passageways you were still unfamiliar with in the kingdom. As you and Thranduil had separate chambers and living spaces, you hadn’t had cause to explore the areas surrounding his rooms. You were surprised to find he had summoned you into his private quarters, rather than his throne room or the dining hall you semi-frequently gathered in. 

The servant came to a halt in front of a large set of ornate doors and he knocked once before opening it, gesturing for you to step through. You stepped inside and the doors closed behind you. The servant didn’t follow you in, and as you continued on alone your mind raced with the possibilities of why Thranduil might have requested to speak with you. 

You were surprised to find his chambers were not much more lavish than your own. He’d clearly spared no expense on your living quarters, as his shared the same style of furniture and tapestries as yours did. The only visible difference you could detect was that his rooms were just a slight bit larger than yours. As you rounded the corner into the main living area you found the king at last. He was standing with his back to you, and as you approached he did not turn to greet you. You stopped a few yards away from him, standing awkwardly with your hands clasped together. He was a king, after all, and you were uncertain if you should speak first. Surely he’d heard you enter. 

After several long moments of silence, Thranduil finally spoke. 

“How have you been finding the kingdom?” He asked, his back still turned to you. His arms moved as he spoke, and from behind it looked as though he were fidgeting with something on the table he stood before.

“Fine, your majesty.” You said quietly, not bothering to elaborate. You didn’t think he’d care too much for the details anyway.

“Have you been treated well?” He continued, still not turning to face you.

“Yes, your majesty.” 

“You may call me Thranduil.” He finally turned, holding two goblets of red wine in his hands. He handed you one and took a long sip from his own before continuing. “We are to be wed, after all. Even if it is merely an arrangement.” 

You nodded wordlessly as you accepted the glass. You remained silent, uncertain of what to say. He paused for a moment before he pivoted on his heel and began to walk back in the direction he’d come.

“I have received an invitation from King Thorin.” As he spoke he paced around the room, sipping from his goblet. It was clear he was as uncertain of what to do in your presence as you were in his. “They are holding a celebration in honor of the anniversary of Erebor’s reclamation. Would you care to attend with me?” 

That was surprising. Despite the joint effort it took between the dwarves and elves to defeat the orc armies, they were still not on the best of terms. Thorin had, after all, attempted to keep the elves’ jewels to himself and nearly started a war between the two clans as a result. There was an uneasy peace between the two, now that the dwarves resided in the mountain once again, and you were surprised that Thranduil would be willing to travel all that way to be in the company of dwarves.

“Yes your ma- Thranduil.” You quickly corrected yourself.

He paused and turned to look at you, though he did not make a move to step closer. 

“I do not expect love to grow between us.” He said flatly.  “But we should be able to tolerate each other, should we not?” 

You nodded.

“Yes, I would say so.” 

He nodded in return as he held his wine glass out, indicating a toast. 

“Very well then. We leave in one week's time.” 

** 

The journey from Mirkwood to Erebor had taken two days, and with the lavish way in which Thranduil liked to travel it was not an uncomfortable trek as you’d anticipated. You arrived at the mountain kingdom well rested, and rather excited at the prospect of a feast. From what the king had explained of dwarvish parties he remembered from the late King Thror’s time, the feast could go on for days. You would be arriving at the tail end of the celebration, as Thranduil had planned. Dwarves were apparently a rambunctious bunch, and as Thorin had requested Thranduil stay and tour the mountain afterwards he had not wanted to spend more time with them than he needed. 

Erebor was as magnificent as you’d been told. It was amazing how the mountain had been transformed and rebuilt in merely a year's time. Though you were used to the splendor of elven realms, as both Mirkwood and your birth home were lavish and beautiful, there was something awe-inspiring about the kingdom under the mountain. The halls were endless, sprawling on in either direction as far as your eyes could see. The ceilings were impossibly high, and despite the kingdom being built into the side of a mountain there seemed to be an abundance of light flowing from any given direction. To look down at the winding staircases that led deeper into the heart of the mountain would make you dizzy, if you stared too long. The stone walls were carved and inlaid with intricate designs of gold and silver, telling the tales and the history of the line of Durin. You had studied many languages, and Khuzdul was one you were somewhat familiar with. You’d found yourself stopping every few feet along the walk to your chambers to read the inscriptions on the walls. 

Legolas, Tauriel, and a handful of others had made the journey along with yourself and Thranduil. The dwarves had spared no luxury for your group, as you’d each been housed in your own private chamber within the mountain. Dwarvish extravagance was very different from that of your elven home. Where the elves valued natural elegance, which involved a lot of carved wood and intricate silks, the dwarves had more of a rugged taste. Your rooms consisted of chiseled stone furniture and fixtures, inlaid with even more gold and a number of jewels you had never laid eyes on before. Though it was very different from your home in Mirkwood, it still felt comfortable and welcoming. 

The dwarf servant that had been assigned to your care had asked what could be provided to make your stay more enjoyable, and she was delighted at your request for books to read later in the evening. She seemed impressed at your ability to read and understand Khuzdul, as many elves didn’t care or bother to learn the language of the dwarves. You’d noticed the air of arrogance Thranduil and Legolas, and even Tauriel, had displayed since your arrival, and you made it your mission to change the dwarves’ opinion of elves, even if the others chose not to do the same. 

After resting and dressing for dinner, you’d met Thranduil and the others in the hall. He extended his arm out to you automatically, as though it were expected rather than something he cared to do. You’d accepted it regardless. As you walked along he did not look down at you, or even acknowledge your dress or appearance for the event. Was this the life you were destined for? Emotionless, cold… Doing things merely out of duty and not from love? You felt your heart sink as you walked along beside the king. It was a lonely existence. 

The feast was in full swing by the time you arrived. It was chaos. There were long, sprawling tables lined with food and more dwarves than you could count. As you watched, food flew from every side of the room, ale spilled across the tabletops and onto the floor, and dwarves moved about, falling over themselves and each other. It was clear the drinking had been going on for much longer than the actual feast. 

“They behave like animals.” Thranduil muttered under his breath. 

Despite having never been in the company of dwarves before, you found yourself surprisingly unbothered by their behavior. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, which was more than you could say for your royal escort. It was certainly more rambunctious than any elvish party you had ever attended, but at least they were having a good time. 

As your party approached a large table at the head of the room, one of the dwarves stood to greet you. He was dark haired with a matching dark beard. Streaks of gray peppered both his long hair and speckled his face, and with the gold and emerald crown atop his head you took him to be the king. As he stood he extended his hand in a greeting.

“King Thranduil.” He bowed his head out of respect to the elven king as he placed his hand across his chest. “We are pleased you could make the journey.” 

Thranduil nodded tightly in return, also bowing his head to Thorin to your surprise. 

“King Thorin.” He said politely, though you could hear the hint of tension in his voice.  “This is my betrothed, Lady (Y/N). You’ve met my son, Prince Legolas.” 

Thorin nodded at you both before gesturing to the dwarves seated on either side of him. On one side sat a woman, with dark hair similar to his own. They shared a stark resemblance, down to the neatly trimmed beard she wore as well. On his other side sat a younger dwarf, who also matched the seeming familial resemblance to the other two. He had wavy, golden hair with braids woven through. His braided mustache bounced as he nodded his head in respect. 

“A pleasure, my lady. My prince. This is my sister, Lady Dis. My nephew and heir, Prince Fili. My other nephew will be joining us shortly.” As he spoke he gestured to two empty seats on the opposite side of the prince. “King Thranduil, would you and your betrothed join us at the head table?” 

Your eyes traveled to the spot down from the empty spaces. You recognized the king of the newly rebuilt city of Dale, Bard. The one who had been responsible for slaying Smaug, if you remembered the story correctly. 

Thranduil’s increasingly strained smile caught your attention from the corner of your eye, and you couldn’t help but smirk a bit in response. You knew the last thing he’d wanted for the evening was to be sandwiched between the dwarves he still wasn’t overly fond of and the humans he held in equal disdain. However you knew his kingly pride would not allow him to turn down the offer. You, on the other hand, were excited to continue on with your mission of making the dwarves see the elves in a better light. 

“We’d be honored.” He said, forcing an even larger fake smile. As another dwarf servant appeared and escorted Legolas and the others to their table, Thranduil gestured for you to choose your seat first. Unable to resist the humor of making the king even more uncomfortable, you opted for the seat next to Bard, leaving Thranduil no choice but to sit and make conversation with the dwarven king and prince. 

“It’s a pleasure, my lady.” King Bard said as you sat, extending his hand to help you into your seat. “I was not aware that King Thranduil had taken a bride.” 

“It’s a new development.” You said, quickly attempting to divert the conversation away from your engagement. “How is the work on the city going?” 

As the two of you made light conversation and exchanged pleasantries, speaking of the rebuild of Dale and the newly reformed relations between dwarves, elves, and men, you began to lose track of time. Several courses came and went, and ale and wine continued to flow freely. Though the elvish tolerance made your kind more resistant to the influence of alcohol, the steady refilling of your goblet as you chatted and sipped away had your head spinning before you’d realized what had happened. You began to feel warm, and as you breathed in and out your corset suddenly felt overwhelmingly restrictive around your chest. 

Air. You needed air. 

Without thinking you turned to your fiance, grabbing his arm in an attempt to get his attention. 

“Thranduil.”

He turned to you, and as his eyes met yours his brief look of annoyance quickly turned into one of concern as he noticed your flushed and panicked face. 

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly, and you were surprised to find that he actually appeared to be worried for your wellbeing. 

You nodded in reassurance, not wanting to cause a scene as you felt the eyes of Bard and Thorin also turning to you.

“I’m just feeling a bit warm, I think I’m going to step out for a moment.”

Thranduil gave a small nod in return, and you quickly stood and excused yourself from the table.

You were uncertain of where to go, as you’d only arrived in the mountain earlier that day and had not had a chance to get to know your way around. The way back to your room felt somewhat familiar, and you decided a quick stroll there and back might help clear your head. As you wove through the crowd, deftly avoiding numerous drunk and stumbling dwarves, you found that a makeshift dance floor had formed directly in front of the entrance, and only exit, to the great hall. You were unfamiliar with the dwarvish music, but it was much softer and merrier than you expected. Dozens of couples twirled around, following footwork that was unknown to you but something they seemed to know by heart. You were transfixed for several moments, watching them move about with an ease and grace that you didn’t know came so naturally to dwarves. After a few minutes you remembered your desire for some air, and decided you’d still like a short break from the commotion before you returned to the table. You tried to move nimbly along the outskirts of the dance floor, trying to avoid crashing into dancing dwarves as you stayed as far out of the way as possible. As you turned back to watch momentarily, still intrigued, you felt yourself collide solidly with another body. Before you had the chance to correct your footing you found you were falling backward. You braced yourself for the impact, but before your body could crash into the stone floor a pair of arms wrapped tightly around you, and you felt yourself being pulled into a broad chest. 

Your gaze turned forward, looking for the source of your rescue in order to thank whoever had saved you from splitting your head open. As your eyes searched the space in front of you they spotted the top of a head of brown hair; the person to whom it was attached stood a few inches shorter than you. It was a dwarf, if you had to guess. He was still cradling you tightly against him, as though he anticipated you might fall backward again at any moment. You felt his grasp loosen as he leaned back to look up at you, though his arms still remained wrapped around your body.

He was young. The difference in how dwarves and elves aged was unfamiliar to you, but judging by his lack of a beard and softer features you assumed he was not an elder. He had wavy brown hair that was pulled partially back, save for a few loose strands and a fringe of bangs that framed his face and a pair of dazzling brown eyes. Though he lacked the fuller beard and mustache that most dwarves wore he did have a sprinkling of stubble across his face. The lack of a beard allowed you to fully appreciate his chiseled jawline and lips, the latter of which currently sported a wide grin. He was quite handsome, and you couldn’t help but stand and stare down at the stranger for several long moments. 

Too long, you realized. How long had you been standing in silence, staring at the nameless man? It would surely look bad if anyone from your party came strolling by.

“I’m sorry sir-” You started. As you stuttered out an apology you moved to step backward, and subsequently tripped again. The young dwarf immediately grasped your arm tighter to steady you and you felt a blush creep into your cheeks in response. So much for the grace and elegance of the elves. 

“The fault was entirely mine, my lady.” He said in return, his kind smile widening at your flustered speech and clumsiness. He didn’t appear to be bothered by your awkwardness; on the contrary, he seemed to enjoy it. His touch lingered on your arm, ensuring you would not fall again before he slowly released his grasp. 

“I’d hardly say so, you were merely walking by and I was not watching where I was going.” Despite your embarrassment you felt a smile spread across your face as well. The kind twinkle in his eyes was contagious, and you quickly felt your fluster fade the longer the two of you spoke.

“Well if you’re so inclined to make amends, you can honor me with a dance.” As he spoke he extended his hand toward you, and in the same motion he nodded his head toward the mass of dancing bodies. The music had slowed to something much less upbeat, something you were sure even you could keep up with. 

You paused. The nameless man had intrigued you, that was for certain. But would dancing with a random dwarf enrage your royal fiance? You craned your neck to look back in the direction of the table you had been sat at with Thranduil and the other royals, but from your position near the dance floor you could not see them. Which meant more than likely they could not see you either. Even so, would it really be that big of a deal? You were supposed to be making peace, after all. 

“That seems only fair.” You said as you turned back to face him. As you accepted his outstretched hand he grasped it tightly, as if he were afraid you’d disappear, and pulled you to the floor. 

The two of you came to a halt in the middle of the mass of bodies. You were surrounded by other dancing pairs on every side, safely hidden away from any watchful eyes. As you rested your hand on his shoulder and entwined the fingers of your free hand with his you felt his other hand rest on your hip. The light touch sent a wave of goosebumps up the side of your body. It was more contact than you’d ever had with the man who was supposed to become your husband. Every point of contact your body had with the stranger felt as though it were on fire. 

Seeming to know you were unfamiliar with the music he took the lead, tugging you gently back and forth until you became comfortable with the simple steps of the dance. You swayed together for a few moments, neither speaking but simply watching each other in a comfortable silence. Though he was a bit shorter than you it was not by much. He stood at eye level with your nose, and you wondered if he were tall for a dwarf, or if you were short for an elf. Thranduil and the others had towered over Thorin, so you expected it was the latter. You had often been one of the smaller elves wherever you’d gone. 

“So you are not from the Iron Hills, I take it.” He grinned up at you as he finally spoke, stating the obvious. There were many physical differences between elves and dwarves, but if your ears and impossibly long hair had not given you away your dress certainly would have. The high-necked and fitted gowns of the dwarven women were a stark contrast to the lower cut and flowing gowns of the elves. 

“I am not.” You confirmed. 

“Are you from Mirkwood?” He continued.

“I am living in Mirkwood, but I am from somewhere farther.” 

“And are all the elves as graceful as you?” He asked. As he spoke he attempted to keep a serious face, as though it were a genuine inquiry. He failed, and before you had the chance to respond to his prodding a smirk broke through his stoic expression. 

“Well I’ve often suspected I’m not entirely an elf.” You said matter-of-factly, playing along with his teasing. “Grace has never been my strong suit.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

“I didn’t know my mother. My father does not speak of her. And as you’ve so keenly pointed out, I do lack the natural elegance of the elves.” Why were you telling him this? You’d only just met the man, and yet you found yourself spilling out the innermost things you’d only ever wondered to yourself. 

“And the height.” He quipped, confirming your earlier thoughts. “But you are no less stunning.” 

You felt a warmth spread across your face, and you were certain you’d blushed a scarlet red. He was more forward than you were used to, and although you enjoyed the company of the cheeky dwarf you were also an engaged woman. To a king, no less. You’d become lost in the conversation, fully absorbed in the moments shared with the handsome stranger. To the point you had almost forgotten you were still in the center of a crowded dance floor. You realized the two of you had stopped moving and instead stood staring at each other again. His eyes were mesmerizing. His fringe of bangs had fallen partially to cover them, and you felt yourself drawn to reach forward and brush them away.

“Are you from Erebor?” You quickly asked, sidestepping his compliment. “Or have you traveled for the celebration?” You turned your gaze to the couples around you and tugged on his hand, indicating you should start moving again. 

Out of the corner of your eye you could see his lopsided grin return, fully aware that you’d avoided the second part of his earlier statement. He followed your lead and began to sway with you, though you noted his grip had tightened on your hip. 

“I live here.” 

“Did you live here before the…” You trailed off, uncertain of how the dwarves spoke of the years the mountain stood uninhabited. Was it a sore subject still? 

“Before the dragon?” He finished. “No. Why do I look that old?” His eyebrows furrowed together as he spoke, his expression unreadable. 

You’d offended him.

“N- no. You don’t. I didn’t- I mean-” You felt your face flush red again as you stumbled over your words. Of course he couldn’t have been old enough to have lived through Smaug. Could he? 

He laughed. 

“I’m only joking.” He assured you. As he spoke he stopped moving again, and gestured over his shoulder to the exit you’d been attempting to make it to before. “Would you like to take a walk? I could show you around a bit while everyone is in here. The halls will be empty” 

You felt a flutter run through your stomach at the prospect of being alone with the mystery man. It was a feeling you’d never experienced with Thranduil, and expected you never would. You checked over your shoulder again, still unable to see the head table from where the two of you stood. But again, would it be so bad? Accepting a tour of the kingdom from a dwarf? You had made it your mission to change their view of the elves, after all. You wordlessly nodded, accepting his invitation, and he grinned widely in return as he took your hand and led you nimbly through the crowd.

The halls of Erebor appeared impossibly larger while empty. The stranger led you up and down staircases, pointing out different areas of the kingdom and showing you various repairs that had been completed in order to reverse the damage done by the dragon. As you walked together you lost track of time again, and you wondered how long you’d been absent from the table. Had Thranduil noticed? Likely not. He never seemed to notice or care when you were gone. 

“So how did you come to live in Mirkwood?” Your escort finally asked, his attention turning from the newly rebuilt throne to you. “You mentioned earlier you were not from there.” 

“My…betrothed.” You started hesitantly. “He lives in Mirkwood.” 

You paused, waiting for the inevitable reaction. You were promised to another, and it pained you to tell him. You felt an undeniable draw to this man who’s name you did not know. There was a familiarity and comfort with him, something you’d never felt before and certainly did not feel with Thranduil. As you waited for him to excuse himself and leave you standing alone in the halls you held your breath, dreading the fallout. 

“Oh.” He sounded surprised at the revelation, but not upset. He made no move to run away from you as he continued. “You do not sound happy about the arrangement.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that he had not fled at the mention of your fiance. Though you’d made no mention of your unhappiness with the king, he seemed to have noted that it was not a joyous engagement. You wondered if it were that obvious to everyone when you spoke of Thranduil. 

“I’m not.” 

“Does he not treat you well?” He asked. You noticed a look of concern that immediately furrowed lines in his face. 

“In order to treat me well or not well he’d have to spend time with me.” You said, offering him a sad but reassuring smile that your intended was not an unkind man. “And we do not spend any time together. He told me when I arrived we were to be together in name only.” 

“That sounds terribly lonely.” 

“It has been.” You continued quietly. Your gaze turned back to the designs etched into the stone floor as you walked. Who was this stranger? This man you’d known for an hour at most, but somehow you felt more comfortable with than anyone you’d ever met before. You wanted to know him better, but that would surely be impossible. 

The two of you walked on in silence for several minutes before he spoke again. 

“Has he seen you?” He asked suddenly. 

“What do you mean?”

“Has he laid eyes on you?” He asked again, a hint of urgency in his voice. 

“Well, yes, I’m here with him.” You stated simply. What was he getting at? 

The man shook his head as he turned from you back to stare ahead as you walked. 

“He is a madman, then.” 

“How so?”

“To possess a woman so divine and not spend any time with her…” He trailed off, shaking his head again as though in disappointment. “The only conclusion is he must be insane.” 

You felt your cheeks flush at his statement. This stranger had spoken more kind words to you in an evening than Thranduil had in a month. Who was this man? 

“I don’t know if I would say that.” You said quietly, keeping your eyes focused on the ground as you spoke. 

“I would.” He stopped suddenly and took your hand, pulling you to a stop with him. He tugged you around to face him, and kept your hand locked tightly in his as he spoke. “Tales will be written of your beauty some day. You are the fairest princess in the most wonderful fairytale. The most beautiful and elegant of all the elves in all of the realms. The most precious jewel under this mountain. If he is not insane, your betrothed is surely blind.” 

The way he stared up into your eyes sent another flutter through your stomach. Something you’d sorely lacked with Thranduil. Passion. You felt it as strongly as anything, the unmistakable feelings of desire and attraction swirling within you. It was as though the force of gravity itself had shifted, and rather than grounding you to the earth you stood on it was pulling you towards this stranger instead. 

“You flatter me, sir. I do not even know your name.” You whispered. As you spoke you felt yourself unconsciously pulling against his hand, tugging him closer to you. He stepped forward willingly, bringing your bodies only inches apart. 

“I am-” He began.

“Kili.” 

The both of you jumped at the unfamiliar voice that invaded the intimate bubble you’d enclosed yourselves in. You quickly released his hand and stepped backward, putting as much space as possible between you as the intruder approached. The young blonde prince you’d met earlier, Fili if you remembered correctly, was strolling toward the two of you. 

“My lady, this is my brother, Prince Kili.” He said by way of introduction as he came to a halt beside him. “Brother this is Lady (Y/N), the intended of King Thranduil.” It seemed as though he were offering a reminder to the pair of you, rather than an introduction. 

His brother. The king’s nephew. Of course it was. 

The stranger you now knew to be Kili was staring at you, the pieces falling into place as his eyes widened. 

“Thranduil…” He mumbled. “Of course.”

Fili raised an eyebrow in confusion at his brother's muttering before turning his attention back to you. 

“My lady, your fiance requested I come check on you. Are you well?” He asked. He was far more formal and royally appropriate than his brother had been for the past hour. 

You quickly slipped back into a more formal mode yourself, straightening your back and clasping your hands behind you. You nodded respectfully at the elder prince. 

“Thank you, Prince Fili. Prince Kili was just escorting me back to my room. Will you tell King Thranduil I am not feeling well and would like to retire for the evening?” 

He nodded. 

“I will. Brother, our king has requested your presence. Do you know the rest of the way back, my lady?” As he spoke he pulled on his brother's arm, indicating they should return to the hall as quickly as possible. You hoped nothing had been made of your joint absence, though given the fact you’d not been introduced earlier the connection would have been a longshot for anyone to make. 

“I do.” You said, giving the older brother a reassuring smile as he turned to leave. “It was nice to meet you, Kili.” You felt a pang of sadness. The evening had gone by far too quickly, and you knew you were not likely to see the handsome prince again.

“And you, (Y/N).” He took your hand in his and kissed it gently, allowing his lips to momentarily linger against the delicate skin of your hand. He released it and quickly stood, leaning in to whisper in your ear before following his brother. “I will find you again.” 

[bitchysoulwasteland]

Thranduil x Modern Soulmate Reader

Word Count: 3,367

Thranduil had always wondered who his soulmate was. But, that didn't apparently matter to his father, who insisted that he married a princess, to strengthen Mirkwood's power. He knew certain bits and pieces about his soulmate. For example, they liked music as they were always humming some tune that only he could hear. Their favourite song was called 'Keep Yourself Alive' by a band apparently called Queen. He also knew that, due to the fact soulmates could see each other's dreams, they did not hail from Middle Earth. 

He thought he knew his soulmate well, until one night, he was pulled from his own dream and into a nightmare of war. It was night, he could tell that much. Everything had an eerie green glow as his soulmate looked through an eyepiece for any threats. Within seconds, it went from quiet to deafening. Guns blazed around as a man diffused something. Shots fired from his soulmate hit their mark, even in the darkness. The man jogged back to them, the soldiers regrouping and getting into the vehicle. As his soulmate turned their back, they were hit by something in their right shoulder.

"We need medics at base, a.s.a.p. Sergeant Y/n L/n has been hit. Bullet wound to the shoulder. I repeat, Sergeant Y/n L/n has been hit." A woman's voice spoke over radio. Other shouts for medical treatment echoed in the small space, but, everything was muffled as shouts of 'stay with me, Y/n!' were herd various times.

"Don't you dare die on me, Y/n. This group has been through way too much to lose its best woman." The same female voice said as his soulmate's eyes fell closed.

That was when he woke up, in a cold sweat, his covers in the floor. He moved his hair out of his eyes as he looked around him. He was safe and sound. He worried about his soulmate, searching his brain for her name. The name he had herd when she had been hit. Y/n. Sergeant Y/n L/n. He scribbled her name on a piece of paper and put it on his bedside cabinet for later. 

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You woke up in a medical bay, not really any memory of what had happened. You remembered shots. You turned your back and felt as though you had been punched in the back. Adrenaline had kept the pain at bay, now, unfortunately, it had worn off. You tried to sit up as you saw the Lieutenant Colonel walk through the door of the tent. 

"Don't get up, Sergeant. I just wanted to give you this." He handed you a letter from HQ. "I also want to thank you for your service to the nation. You've done immensely well. You should be proud." You knew he had herd about your resignation from the Army, probably from HQ. You also knew that although he pretended to be cold, he was actually a nice person on the inside. 

"Thank you, sir." You said. 

"Good luck with civilian life, Y/n. I mean it. Bluestone 42 won't be the same without you. As you were." 

"Thank you, sir." You said as he walked out of the tent with a nod. 

Six weeks of recovery and a day of travelling later, you were unlocking your London house, after two years of not touching it. You put your bags by the door, took off your uniform cap, coat and boots, leaving them beside your bag, before turning the electric back on, by the meter, along with the water and central heating. You put the kettle on and flumped onto the sofa, exhaustion draining from your body. No sooner had the kettle boiled was there a knock at the door. Reluctantly, you answered it. You couldn't quite believe what you were seeing. Thranduil. From The Hobbit. Or, at least an extremely good lookalike. 

"May I help you?" 

"My name is Thranduil and I was hoping that you could show me the quickest way back to Middle Earth." You raised an eyebrow in complete disbelief. "I'm only asking as yours was the first house I came across." 

"Hate to break it to you, but as much as I would love for fictional worlds to be real, they're not. Nice costume, though Halloween isn't until October, Barbie." 

"What is this 'Halloween' you speak of, and who is this 'Barbie', mortal?" Okay. Maybe he was the real deal. 

"It's a time when people put up decorations of pumpkins and ghosts, witches, ghouls, goblins and other magical stuff. And Barbie, is a kids toy. She's a doll with long blonde hair." 

"Aside from the toy, why would anyone want to worship goblins?" You saw the hatred. No, disgust in his eyes and remembered the movies. 

"The goblins aren't worshipped. It's about remembering dead relatives. The goblins and all of that are just meant to scare kids. You look freezing, come in. I can't promise a way back to Middle Earth, but I can make a decent meal." You said before hid did so. You closed the door behind him.

"You're very kind to a stranger.." 

"Y/n. Sergeant Y/n L/n." He took off his shoes by the door "Just through here." You noticed the state of his robes. "D'you want me to get you some clean clothes? I should have some somewhere." 

"What's wrong with my royal robes." He stated, matter of factly as he stood in his socks, still looking regal.

"You can't really go walking around on earth in robes, mate. You'll be a laughing stock. Besides, they're muddy." You walked upstairs as he followed close behind. You walked into your bedroom and began looking for the clothes. You went in your drawers and pulled out a stonewash blue Guns n Roses t-shirt, passing it to him. Then, you found the birthday presents that you had never given your family, as you had signed up for service. A navy blue hoodie and black denim jeans, along with a leather belt. The bathroom is just across there. You said as he went to go and change. You noticed that you were still in uniform, so you swiftly changed into jeans, a Queen t-shirt and a grey Rolling Stones hoodie.

You walked out of the room at the same time Thranduil did. "Where would you like me to put these?" He asked as you took the sight in. He looked hotter than you'd seen him on the films in normal clothes. And the hoodie and jeans were doing everything for his look. He looked at you, slightly surprised at how good someone could look in such simple clothes. 

"Erm, just leave 'em on there and I'll was them for you." You said, gesturing to the wash basket. He placed his folded clothes on the basket. "So, what kind of food do you like?" You asked as you both walked downstairs and into the kitchen to see what you had got, food wise. 

"I don't mind. In Mirkwood, we usually have majority of Middle Earth's cuisines." Ok now he was just showing off. You looked in fridge, freezer and the cupboards, but other than some icicles and some cups, there was nothing. 

"I haven't been here in about two years since I went in the Army. We could order food in?" You tried the house phone, which had been disconnected. "Let's go out to eat." You said as you grabbed your keys from the shelf above the kitchen counter. The pair of you walked to the door. You slipped your converse on as he put on his boots. Luckily, the trousers covered most of the shins of them. Thranduil was about to undo the door when you stopped him. "C'mere. If you have your hair like that, someone's bound to notice you're not human." You said as he stepped closer to you, so you were face to chest, due to his height. You got up on the bottom step behind him. You tied his hair in a low bun before stepping in front of him to tease a few strands to cover the points of his ears. "Perfect." You whispered as you locked eyes with him, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You wanted to kiss him right then and there. You cleared your throat as a blush made its way across your cheeks. "We should be going." You muttered, not trusting your own voice. 

On the walk around the path to your car, he slipped his hand in yours. You looked at the floor, trying to hide your face, by instinct. Thranduil stopped walking. You stopped a foot after him. He turned you so you were looking at him. "I've waited years to meet you, Y/n. I've never met anyone like you. This is probably premature, but, I love you." He whispered before he lent in and kissed you. You didn't have to stand on your toes with him. His arms pulled you closer by your waist as yours went around his neck. Images of both of your pasts flashed before both of your eyes. He was the one. Your soulmate. You had only ever been told that you would see images of each other's pasts. You didn't think it was true, until then. After what felt like a lifetime, you pulled away for air. 

"I love you too, Thran." He smirked at the nickname you gave him, a smile on your own lips. You felt something fall on your head, and within moments, you were standing out in the pouring rain with Thranduil. "This is gonna be so cliché, but, wanna dance in the rain?" You asked as you took his had and led him to the middle of the now empty car park. Holding you close, you both waltzed around the area, until a car horn pulled you from the romantic moment. You both ran to your car and you unlocked it as you both opened the doors and got into the dry. "That was the most fun I've had in ages." You breathed as you ran a hand though your wet hair. Turning the engine on, you began to drive. Noticing the time, you had a better plan than to drive to a fancy restraint that you could undoubtedly not afford. Houses and buildings fell back from the scenery as you drove along the M25 from London. Soon enough, you found a service station. You went into the McDonalds Drive Thru and ordered two Big Mac meals and two McFlurries. 

Half an hour later, you were back on the road again.

Thranduil couldn't help but stare at you as he took in your features. Your h/c hair was curling slightly at your temples, from being wet. Your e/c eyes gleamed as you watched the road whilst talking to him. 

"So, back in Middle Earth, what do you do?" 

"I'm prince if Mirkwood. I ride elks and horses and I have to attend the most boring gatherings ever." 

"So, the usual royalty stuff then." You laughed. "All heirs and graces, yeah?" You said in a faux posh accent.

He couldn't help but laugh along with you "Something like that, yes, meleth." He watched how your laugh lit up your features "What do you do?"

"Well, I was an aspiring singer and dancer. But, I couldn't get any roles or attention from the big names I needed to. I was loosing money, fast. I was on the brink of loosing everything. The house, this car. So, I found an option. I joined the army and became an ATO in Afghanistan. It wasn't the first choice, or the cosy one, but it was to help people, and to help myself." He looked at you sympathetically but blankly as you figured he wouldn't know what you were talking about after the word ATO. "Bomb disposal." He still looked at you blankly. "I was a soldier. Until I resigned." 

"What made you resign?"

"Job lost its appeal, I s'pose. I tell you what, if I had the gift of foresight I wouldn't have made half of the mistakes I did." You drove I silence for a while, until your SatNav tells you that you have reached your destination. You parked the car on the seafront and got out of it before locking it. "I hope you like the sea, your highness, cos here we are. The White Cliffs Of Dover." You put a blanket over the bonnet and sat beside Thranduil. You then pulled the corners of the large blanket over you both, his arms pulling you into his lap. 

"It's beautiful." He said, resting his chin on your shoulder as you leaned into him, your head on his shoulder, watching the sunrise over the sea. 

When the sun had risen higher, you spoke again "Y'see that dark line on the horizon that starts there and ends just there," you pointed "that's France. There's a song about these cliffs. And a story. When pilots were flying back to England during the Second World War, they would look for these cliffs and know that they were home." You didn't say anymore, instead, you began singing.

"There'll be bluebirds over The white cliffs of Dover Tomorrow, just you wait and see I'll never forget the people I met Braving those angry skies I remember well as the shadows fell The light of hope in their eyes And though I'm far away I still can hear them say "Thumbs up!" For when the dawn comes up There'll be bluebirds over The white cliffs of Dover Tomorrow, just you wait and see There'll be love and laughter And peace ever after Tomorrow, when the world is free The shepherd will tend his sheep The valley will bloom again And Jimmy will go to sleep In his own little room again I may not be near, but I have no fear History will prove it too When the tale is told It will be as of old For truth will always win through; But be I far or near That slogan still I'll hear "Thumbs up!" For when the dawn comes up There'll be bluebirds over The white cliffs of Dover Tomorrow, just you wait and see

When night shadows fall, I'll always recall Out there across the sea Twilight falling down on some little town It's fresh in my memory I hear mother pray And to her baby say "Don't cry!" This is her lullaby There'll be bluebirds over The white cliffs of Dover Tomorrow, just you wait and see."

Thranduil looked at you with pure adoration as you finished the song. He took off one of the rings he was wearing and put it on your hand. You took your phone out and took a picture of the two of you, the cliffs in the background, made it your lock screen, then took a picture of the sunset before falling asleep in your love's arms.

"That was magnificent, my sergeant." 

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It had been three months since you had woken up alone. You hadn't entirely expected him to be there when you woke up. He had put you in the back seats of your car, the blanket over you. But, what you hadn't accounted for was the loneliness you felt when you woke up alone. You shouldn't have fallen for him. Even if he was the one. The only thing you had left of him was his robes and the ring he gave you. 

To get your mind off of the Elvenking, you went for a walk in your local forest. But, halfway through the forest, you tripped and fell. When you got up, you were no longer where you had fallen. You recognised the all too familiar shadow of the ruins of Dale a few meters before you. You were in the Battle Of Five Armies. Thankfully, the battle had not yet begun. You got onto your feet, noticing the rip in the jeans and the crack in your phone screen as it had fallen from your pocket. You ignored both. If you were in the third Hobbit movie, then that means that you had a chance of seeing Thranduil again. Running as fast as your body would allow, you made it into Dale. You stopped to catch your breath as you looked around you. The people of Laketown were preparing for battle. You silently thanked whoever controlled the universe when you saw armour clad elves. 

You were about to move when shouts came your way. "Oi." You tried to ignore the voice, belonging to Alfred. "We don't want any more beggars 'ere. Or any more wizards or vagabonds." With every word, you took a step away from him. 

"I'm here to see Thranduil. I'm from Rohan. I owe him a great deal of gratitude after he helped save my sister a short while ago from illness and most likely death, and I intend on seeing him to thank him once more." You just hoped that you had sounded convincing enough to pass for an inhabitant of Middle Earth with the whopping lie you just told.

He looked at you sceptically. "Follow me." He said as you did just that. He led you to a yellow tent.

"What do you want now, Alfred?" Bard said in a bored tone. 

"There is a woman here that claims to be from Rohan. She said that the king of Mirkwood saved her sister from death, so she would like to show her gratitude." Thranduil looked up from his wine glass, not remembering doing any such thing. 

"If you touch me with your grubby little mitts once more, I'll be your next big issue." Thranduil herd this as Alfred kept one hand on the woman, who was just out of sight.

"Send her in." Thranduil said, knowing your voice anywhere.

"As you wish." The man stated, pushing you inside the tent, tripping you up in the process, before walking off. 

"Arsehole." You muttered as you dropped your phone for the second time today.

"How do I know that you're my Sergeant L/n?" He gazed at you, as if looking for a fault that you were not the same woman he had been ripped from the arms of by fate and someone's magic.

"I met you on my doorstep, half an hour after I had just got back from being posted in Afghanistan. You stood in front of me and told me who you were. I didn't believe you at first. Until I spoke about Halloween and called you Barbie and you had no idea what I was on about. I offered you food, but then saw I had no food cos I hadn't been back for two years. I tied your hair in a bun. You were wearing the blue hoodie. Then, then went out and danced in the rain until we were soaked. We went to McDonalds and both had a Big Mac meal and McFlurries. We then drove to Dover and I showed you where France was. I sang the White Cliffs Of Dover song as the sun rose. And you gave me this ring." You said as he walked over to you and kissed you like it was the last thing he would ever do. You pulled away and spoke "It's only been three months, Thran."

"It's been three thousand years, my sergeant. I don't plan on ever letting you go again. It's not a coincidence that we met twice. Marry me, please Y/n, you've already got the ring."

You looked into his eyes, knowing you were safe "I'll marry you, Thranduil." you smiled as he kissed you once more. 

[wareagleofthemountain]

Wild Flower

Pairing: Thranduil x Wife!reader

The hour was early, well before sunrise, and the sky was still dotted with the bright constellations of the night. You pulled on your flowing cloak, knee high riding boots, and a satchel full of fruits you’d snagged from the kitchens as you ran through the halls of the Woodland Realm’s underground palace. Your steps were light, almost soundless, and you were careful not to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself as you slipped through the shadows.

“Your Majesty…” Feren bowed to you as you reached the main door that he had been standing guard of all night. “Where might you be off to at this hour?”

“Just making my rounds.” You gave him a playful smile and attempted to walk past him, only for the young guard to lay a hand on your shoulder and halt your movements.

“Does King Thranduil know? Milady, surely I must assemble you an escort team…” His eyes held a slight twinge of unease as he fidgeted with the hem of his tunic. All elves in the Greenwood were aware of their King’s ill temper, and what would surely befall his guards should something happen to his beloved wife while under their watch.

“Thank you Feren, but that will not be necessary. I won’t be long. Besides, my husband has had a tiring few days at council.” With that, you pushed the doors open and stepped out into the outer compound. With Summer just on the horizon, you relished the crisp morning breeze that hit your face and cut through the humidity. Your lashes brushed against your cheeks as you half closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Sweet honeysuckle and the poetry of songbirds flooded your senses like a love letter from the woods to your ears. These were truly the moments that grounded you, for out here in the stillness of dawn you were not beholden to your role. You could shed the heavy crown of queendom and simply exist as you were.

A soft smile spread across your features as Thranduil’s preferred pet name for you seeped into your mind. My wild flower.

Your heart swelled thinking of all the times those words have poured from his lips, his deep voice smooth and rich like honey. Where other rulers might have been cross when you’d show up to a meeting with a light dusting of dirt on your dress and one or two stray leaves in your hair from losing track of time planting trees in the garden, Thranduil merely smiled knowingly and motioned you to take your seat right next to him. “My wild flower.” He’d whisper, reaching up and gently removing the small twig from your hair. His clear blue eyes would sparkle at you no matter who was talking during the proceedings and he’d be keen on hearing about your escapades in the garden as soon as his council took leave of him. Not to say you were a lackadaisical ruler, not at all. In fact, it is quite the opposite. You were just never a fan of formality. Thranduil saw you for who you were as if you were made of glass, and adored you beyond words for it.

The mighty elk you and Thranduil had raised from a calf looked up at you from where he was laying in a straw bed that lined the floor of his stall in the stables. The back gate of the stall was always open, leaving him the freedom to come and go as he pleased, but he often came in for shelter during the night. And, of course, so he can be the first to get breakfast when the stable keepers come in in the morning. The majestic creature rubbed his antlers against the wall as he stretched, getting to his feet.

“Morning my friend.” You cooed, opening the front gate and holding out a sliced apple in offering. You fed each piece to him, the elk crunching loudly with every bite he took. You slowly walked towards him, leaning in and pressing your forehead to his. “Want to go for a ride?” You whispered, and he nuzzled his big nose into the crook of your neck in response.

No sooner did you turn around to collect his brush from the tack shelf behind you that your steed was attempting to munch on the satchel around your waist. He knew there was still some fruit in there.

“You’re too smart for your own good.” You chuckle and swat him away lightly. “There’s more where that came from if you behave.”

You hum a soft Silven melody of old, a tale of forbidden love between two elves of warring families that ends with them running away together and marrying, as you brush out the elk’s shiny coat. Satisfied with your work, you returned the brush in favor of a simple brown leather bridle with reins attached. Thranduil always used a saddle when he rode, even when it was outside the context of the battlefield, but you preferred to ride bareback so you could connect more deeply to the animal as you traveled. You effortlessly mounted the tall elk and squeezed his sides with your thighs to get him moving at a trot out of the stables.

He tossed his head impatiently as you’d made it to the fork in the road that led to the more scenic forest trails. He was eager to run and you knew it, pausing to tighten your braid before you gave him the go ahead. The ground trembled in his wake, strong hooves pounding the dirt when he took off in a full on sprint. You laughed, throwing your head back as he jumped over fallen trees, weaved through switch backs in the trail, and conquered expansive fields with ease. You felt as if you were flying. As if you were as wild as the terrain before you.

You stopped halfway through your journey through the forest to give your elk a rest, the rest of your fruit, and a drink from the river. You stripped down to your shift and climbed to the top of a nearby waterfall and drank from its current, letting down your hair and enjoying the feeling of the tiny mist drops kissing your skin. From your vantage point, you could see nothing but a sea of green being illuminated in golden beams as the sun rose before your very eyes. This was the land you ruled over, and you were proud. You leapt from the waterfall, going for a brief swim to cool you down in preparation for the ride back home in the heat, and splashed the elk a few times for good measure.

By the time you returned to the palace, the halls were bustling with activity and you managed to intercept your maid who was standing outside your chamber door prepared to take in your and the king’s breakfast. “Thank you, but I can take it from here.” You said kindly, smiling as the elleth bowed and took her leave.

You quietly opened the double oaken doors to your chambers, kicking off your boots before slipping in. The space was dark, only being lit by a few torches scattered about the walls, but it was comforting all the same. This was home because he was here waiting. Even after all your centuries of marriage, you still felt giddy as you approached the large canopy bed with leaves carved into the posts that you knew he was sleeping on. Placing the breakfast tray on the nightstand for later, you shed your cloak and climbed in beside Thranduil. Hovering over him, you smiled as you noticed how innocent his sharp blue eyes seemed, half lidded from sleep as they were. Suddenly, a strong hand shot up and hooked around your waist, pulling you to the mattress only so he could roll on top of you a moment later. The action happened so fast that you did not have time to yelp in surprise.

“Your nose is cold meleth…” Thranduil mumbled, nuzzling his cheek against yours before pressing a soft kiss to your nose. “I’ll warm you.”

You hugged him close, rubbing circles into his back and lovingly working the morning tangles out of his hair.

“Did you have a good ride, my wild flower?” He brushed over your cheekbones with his thumbs, lips slotting against yours.

“Yes, but I’m glad to be home with you.” You sank into his touch.

“I’m afraid I’ve been distant from you lately. The court has demanded it even though I am counting down the seconds.” His eyes are apologetic. “Allow me to correct my mistake. We are taking the day off to spend together.”

At that you beam. “I’d love that.”

[glassgulls]

69th Follower Celebration with Thranduil

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW do not interact if under 18. Community label compliant.

Summary: Smut, blatant smut with no plot. Thranduil suggests a new position to try.

Comments: This was in response to getting my 69th follower and being a dirty minded deviant couldn't let this monumental achievement pass by without celebrating it. So this is for the lovely @aduialel who was the unlucky 69th follower. I hope you enjoy this blatant smut with your lovely Mirkwood King. I hope he's in character. Thank you to @sotwk for letting me pick her brain over Thranduil's character I hope I've done you proud, and @fizzyxcustard who was gracious enough to read it over for me as I was worried since it's been a while since I've written any smut that it was ok.

Word count: 2,538

NSFW OVER 18'S ONLY

"Yes that's it meleth nin," he hissed between clenched teeth. His long fingers carded through your hair as you hummed around his cock. "You're so beautiful bereth nin," Thranduil purrs lowly his voice dripping with desire. "So perfect for me."

His praise has you whining around his ample erection. Thranduil knows you as well as he knows himself. Knows how much you adore his voice so clear with arousal, his adoration and praise of you. Another whimper is muffled as you enthusiastically try to take more of his length and gag inelegantly around it. Above you your husband tuts and touches your cheeks to wipe the tears from your eyes.

"Don't push yourself meleth nin." Thranduil cooed but his breathing hitched when you looked up at him. The perfect poise he always wore, the aloof gaze your husband showed the world was gone. Looking down at you there was only utter reverence in his eyes. A low groan ripped from his throat as you kept eye contact. 

Being Queen, Mother of his Heir was a role you took with utter devotion, but here before Thranduil and causing him this pleasure there was an intoxicating feeling of power. Of heady delirium of knowing that you were the only one capable of making the King of Mirkwood crumple before you. You know you must look a mess, the perfect makeup and hair you had wore to the dinner party earlier was now in complete disarray. Tears and drool running down your face and soaking your husband's thighs. His fingers had made easy work of ruining your maids' hard work on your hair. 

You tried to move further down his length again as your hand continued to work the rest of his cock that you couldn't manage. Relaxing your throat you felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and the debauched moan that rang out from the ellon before you. The sound caused a shiver up your spine with lust, your own excitement pooled in your belly. The tell-tale twitch of Thranduil's stomach muscles told you how much he was enjoying this intimate act, how close he was to completion and you are eager to see him there. 

Not to have the act over but because you know how your husband looks post bliss. The heavy burden of being a King is gone for a short time and the outside world is zeroed down to you both as husband and wife. The hushed talk of your adorations of love and how your future together with your beautiful son. 

Your thoughts are distracted by him calling your name. 

"Come to me bereth nin," Thranduil coaxes, opening up his arms to you. Pulling yourself off his cock you take a couple of breaths to steady yourself. He's reclined on your shared bed, his outer robe draped down his shoulders while the rest of him is bare to your eager eyes. He's handsome, no, beautiful, the most sublime being you have ever seen with your own eyes. Thranduil tilts his head back and that haughty smirk creeps over his face and your eyes rove over his form. He looks like he's been carved from alabaster, moonlight catches the angles of his face, a sheen of sweat gives him a glow that borders on divine. 

Divine and married to you.

He chose you, gave himself to you body, mind and spirit as you have done to him, over and over. You have no regrets, never once has your love or faith in him been shaken even when he infuriates you. 

Now he calls to you and you follow like always and always will. 

You settle in his arms and Thranduil kisses you softly. Lingering and slow coaxing soft gasps and moans from you easily. 

"You make the sweetest sounds meleth nin," Thranduil declares and runs a hand along your jaw, tilting and manoeuvring you so as to kiss you deeper. Your body is shifted so his free hand can trail along your waist and over your stomach and a flash of heat pools between your thighs. Shifting them together you try to catch the friction you need. Thranduil catched the movement and gives a slap to your thigh to stop you. 

Pulling back, his smirk returns when Thranduil sees your pout. 

"Don't worry meleth nin," he coos at you. "You treat me with such devotion," he continues and plants brief kisses on your lips and nose. "Should a King not do the same for his bereth?" Despite the wholly smug tone he has, you shiver again in delight. Thranduil lets his nose nuzzle against your temple. 

"Turn around." He orders you and you turn automatically to straddle his hips but he stops you. "No darling," Thranduil's strong hands land on your hips and move you so you're facing his feet and with a gentle nudge you find yourself on your arms and face down in front of his erection again. Your hips propped up and spread in front of his face as you were on your knees. A whisper of his breath teases your already soaked entrance and despite the many years of intimacy you find yourself nervously exposed to your King. Looking over your shoulder you see him watching you with a hungry gaze as those careful fingers run up your thighs caressing the delicate skin.

As you try to say his name your voice cuts out when you feel those fingers now trail up your inner thighs and spread you open to his naked gaze. Resting your forehead on his hip you jump at the sharp nip to your thigh. Thranduil's teeth grazing the skin and you can't help the unashamed breathy mewl escape you. 

"The sounds you make are divine meleth nin." Your husband breathes before making a long deliberate lick to your inner thigh. So close to where you need him, ache for him provoking a whimper of his name from your lips. The resounding chuckle from Thranduil puffs across your sopping cunt causing a shiver of excitement to run through you. 

Running those elegant strong fingers through your evident excitement the King of Mirkwood gives a satisfied groan of pleasure. The frantic beating of your heart skips when there is finally the hot brush of his mouth to your aching cunt. 

“My King.” You whimper knowing how that would affect him. The title said in your desperate desire always drives him wild and you’re rewarded by his body shuddering violently, his blatant erection twitches. Giving a snarl he starts to devore your arousal, alternating between lapping at your slick folds and sucking on your clit. 

Rolls of pleasure licked up your spine and you instinctively ground back on his mouth to chase that friction. Arching your back you cry out as his clever mouth moves to flick his tongue and thrust it greedily into you as deeply as possible. His arms move to grip at your hips to keep you steady and lock you in place to his questing mouth. The pathetic whimper of his name slips from your lips in a chant of devout fervour getting louder and louder in a crescending wail as he pushes you further to your own peak of ecstasy. You can feel the finishing wave to release washing over you but cry out in frustration as Thranduil pulls away and bites at your inner thigh.

“Together meleth nin.” he gaps out, the perfectly poised King now sounding ragged and desperate. You nod not conscious of the thought that he probably can’t see your acknowledgement. Raising your eyes you see his blatant erection bob in front of you, the twitches in his abdomen muscles are a beautiful sight and your mouth waters at the thought of tasting him again.

Shuffling forward you flick your tongue out and lap at the prespend dripping down his cock, the hiss of your husband in the sweetest sound as you continue. You want to give him the same bliss he is causing you, for you both to reach that heady bliss of satisfaction in one another. Eagerly you open your mouth and manage to move one hand to wrap around the base of his dick. Taking a long swipe of your tongue along his taut lower abdomen you feel him jump and hear his voice tut at you in a warning. But you can’t help yourself from savouring the taste of his sweat and leaving a lingering kiss on his hip bone grazing your teeth along it before a sweep of your tongue to soothe the spot.  Nuzzling your nose against his hip a small gasp leaves you as you flinch at the sharp sting of teeth on the globe of your ass and a strangled moan rattles in your chest.

“Yes aran nin.” You groan out as his fingers stroke between your folds again whipping up the burning in your belly again. Reaching forward you lick at the head of his dick before taking it on your mouth earning you a buck of his hips. His body roils beneath you in harmony with your mouth as you continue your act of revelling in his arousal. Humming to yourself you shift your head and swallow as much of his dick as you can, the angle not the most convenient but the feel of his body under your own providing a new sensation.  Every flinch and jerk of his hips as he seeks out your mouth is something you feel drunk on, the power over him as you lead him to his release.

A strangled moan of your name from Thranduil causes you to hum your own at his debauched tone. His fingers are gripping on your thighs now to leave bruises but you don’t have the mind to care when you feel him whisper your name against your shivering entrance.

Doubling your effort you bob your head down and hollow your cheeks in the way you know drives your husband wild, the scent of his musk filling your nose as the burning heat if his length filled your mouth and throat. That telltale twitch in his stomach returned and you inwardly grinned at him spreading his legs wider and bucked more erratically into your eager mouth. 

Thranduil did not let you pleasure him selfishly. As you continued to work his hard shaft his minstations on you doubled making you shiver and grind against him. That wicked tongue of his is plunging into as far as possible keeping out an increasing tempo, his hands holding your hips in a bruising hold, helping you sway your hips in time with his actions. 

That tight knot in your belly pulled tighter with every stroke of his tongue, every swirl over your clit with practised ease, every delve into your tight heat to drink your arousal. The heat of your bodies is near stifling but you can't live without it. The searing touch of where your bodies meet is exquisite. 

You pull off his cock to gasp for air as you whimper how close you are. Thranduil answers you with a drawn out groan and you impatiently open your mouth to take him as far as you can down your throat. Thranduil loops an arm around your waist to pin you against him as you squirm excitedly. 

That knot in you pulls tighter till finally with an exquisite snap your whole body arches and freezes up as the wave of your climax hits you. Your cries are muffled as your husband's body stiffens under you and a long groan of your name is muttered into your wet folds. His hips thrust erratically as his hot cum shoots down your greedy throat.  With a pitiful whine you eyes roll in your head as you try to have the presence of mind to lap and suck Thranduil's dick of his cum while your husband hungrily thrust his tongue in as you rode out the waves of your climax, curling it to draw out your juices as they covered his mouth and chin.

As the waves of both your climaxes ebbed you released your husband's cock from your mouth with care. Gasping short breaths you gingerly rolled off his sweat slicked body and lay on your side. There was a soft groan as the bed shifted behind you and as the weight of your King's body lay down behind you, you smiled languidly and shifted to face him. Propping himself up on one elbow he grinned down at you with a content smirk while licking his lips. The blush on your face as you see the evidence of your climax all over his perfect face makes his Cheshire grin widen.

“That was,” you begin to say but the words die in your throat as the heady state of post bliss.

Thranduil hums in acknowledgement and leans down to softly press a chaste kiss to your lips. Through the leaden weight of your arms you reach out to him and he graciously lowers himself into your embrace as his own wrap themselves around you. Taking your privileged place of being tucked up against him you sigh happily as your husband's fingers trail up and down your back tracing lazy patterns along your spine.

“Did you enjoy it meleth nin?” He asks softly into the crown of your head kissing it.

“Yes, though what spurred you on to want to try it?” You ask sleepily.

He hums again and the vibration from his chest is soothing after the heart racing activities of moments earlier.

“I found a book in the library.” Thranduil replies and shifts so that you are both curled around each other. You can’t help but chuckle at his confession.

“So that’s what you were hiding away reading all day and late to the dinner party,” You tease and are rewarded with a warm low laugh that sets your heart alight. Tilting your head up you nose at his chin and nip at the delicate skin there. “What else was in that book?” You ask in that same tone before kissing his chin again. Thranduil takes a long inhale and shivers at your mouth on his skin, chuckling then humming in thought.

“The night is still young bereth nin,” He answers as his voice slides over your skin in a seductive whisper. Shifting again he tilts his head to kiss you slowly, nipping at your lips. His fingers slide up your back to drag his blunt nails over your skin causing you to shiver in anticipation. “And there are so many ideas I want to share with you.” Thranduil continues his voice dropping to a low sensual tone.

Tangling your legs with his, you let your own hand slide along his back and trace his shoulders.

“Of course,” you reply sweetly and press a kiss to his chest. “You know I will always support you in all your endeavours aran nin.” you purr.

The low growl that leaves Thranduil's throat at your words causes you to giggle which soon dissolves into heady moans as he kisses your neck. 

Yes, the night was still very young and you couldn’t imagine a better way of spending it than in your husband's eager embrace.

General taglist: @aduialel, @fizzyxcustard, @knittastically, @heilith, @sotwk, @middleearthpixie, @asgardianhobbit98, @evenstaredits

If you would like to be added to my taglist just give me a holler.

[soralinklokidottirofmirkwood]

My little kitten: Yandere Thranduil x baby neko reader part 1.

Age: 3 week old newborn. When Thranduil visits the queen of a neighboring kingdom he wants the queens newborn daughter. Takes place after BotFA and shortly before FotR, Thorin, Fili and Kili lives.

Warning: death, poison, a little gore, kidnapping, Yandere.

King Thranduil is riding his elk to the kingdom of K/N to meet up with Queen M/N who had recently lost her husband.

Later in the kingdom of K/N:

Thranduil and a few of his guards are standing before a woman with thigh length H/C hair and E/C eyes her most noticeable features were her ears and tail that matched her hair. He walks up to her and kissed her hand "It's been awhile M/N." He said to the younger immortal being who smiled "It has Thranduil." M/N said her H/C ears twitching and her tail swaying.

(What M/N is wearing)

The two rulers are in M/N's private study discussing their kingdom trades, wine, weaponry etc until a maid came in "I'm sorry your majesty but the princess is awake." The young woman said. "Thank you Noelle. You can take the rest of the day off." (Not Noelle from Genshin.) The queen said with a smile and got up with Thranduil who had confusion on his face. "Daughter? I didn't know you and F/N had a child." He said as he followed M/N to the royal wing where her Bed room is at. They walk into the room, Thranduil sees a crib next to M/N's queen size bed and she gently picks up the most beautiful baby he's ever seen “Yes she is three weeks old, her name is Y/N.” Your mother said gently cradling you in her arms. You looked just liked your mother same hair color and same eyes. Thranduil felt something he haven't felt for his own son 'obsession.'

(What your wearing)

You looked at the elven king in curiosity and gurgled "That is king Thranduil dear." Your mother said while rubbing your soft H/C ears gently making you purr happily unaware of the envious Woodland King 'She will be mine!' Thranduil thinks to himself determinedly.

Later Thranduil's POV:

It was near time for me and my men to leave but M/N proposed a toast to our alliance after she put "My" Y/N down for her nap which gave me the perfect opportunity. When she left I poured a vial of poison in her wine and waited for her to return. After she finally came back we lifted our goblets "A toast to our alliance." She said as we both drink our wines and made our way out of the study as soon as we did the poison took effect and in minutes M/N was on the floor dead. I smirked to myself but was thinking on what to do with the body until I saw two passed out guards drunked an idea pop in my head. I took their daggers, stabbed M/N twice (carful not to get blood on me), smeared the blood on the guards, put the daggers in their hands, went to the bathroom and washed my hands but I heard a maid screaming "QUEEN M/N!" I looked out to see that Noelle girl from earlier trying her hardest not to scream and wake Y/N up soon other guards and servants saw the whole thing. "This is good." I say to myself I managed to sneak over to M/N's room, grab my little kitten from her crib, found a torch, threw it on the ground and made the palace catch on fire. My men managed to get out but the servants and guards from inside M/N's palace didn't making me smirk and look down to Y/N who was purring in her sleep 'cute!' I think to myself "What should we do with the child my lord?" A guard asked me. "She comes with us of course. I will raise her as my own." I said cradling Y/N in my arms and adjusting the F/C blanket she was wrapped in.

In Mirkwood no one's pov:

Thranduil makes his way to the throne room with you in his arms passing guards and servants who are surprised to see you in Thranduil's arms making him smirk more.

He arrives to the throne room, sits on his throne with you resting in the crook of his arm he gently rubs your little ears but as he did you woke up with a squeaky yawn making him smile "hello little one." He said making you coo and stare at him in curiosity. "You are never leaving my side and if anyone tries to take you they are dead." He said gently kissing your forehead "You are mine and mine alone my little kitten." He said still holding you as you cooed in wonder.

At night:

Thranduil is now in his bedroom. After bathing and feeding you he managed to get you to sleep. He lies down with you on his chest and your soft purring making you more irresistible "Good night Y/N, my little kitten." He said kissing your head and falling asleep never ever letting you go.

[sotwk]

Last updated: 6/13/24. Newest entry is marked.

Welcome to my Masterlist! I write exclusively for Tolkien, specifically the LotR and The Hobbit series.

For more information about my writer preferences and specialties, please refer to my Fanfiction Request Guidelines.

All my works are also posted in my Ao3 Account.

Sins of Our Fathers (Thranduil x OC Elvenqueen - ongoing series - Second Age 1358) Over the course of a century, Thranduil and Maereth meet and develop a friendship that is destined to become Mirkwood's greatest love story. In Progress.

The Crown (Thranduil x OC Elvenqueen - one-shot - Second Age 3441) Thranduil’s queen comforts him as they prepare on the evening of his coronation. Completed.

A Stab to the Heart (Thranduil & Royal Family - 2-part fic - Third Age 1012) The Elvenqueen is injured in a surprise orc attack, and Thranduil gathers their sons to discuss the ramifications. In Progress.

Yuletide in the Elvenking's Realm (Thranduil & Royal Family - 12-part fic - various years, Third Age) Collection of 12 ficlets in chronological order; stories of Yuletide celebrations in the Woodland Realm through the eyes of Thranduil and his family. In Progress.

Greenleaf's Tree (Child Legolas & Thranduil - one-shot - Third Age 248) Six-year-old Legolas goes on royal progress with Thranduil for the first time. Completed.

Greenleaf’s Day Out (Child Legolas & Family - Complete Series - Third Age 250) On a single day in 8-year-old Legolas’s life, he shares bonding moments with each of his 4 older brothers. 6 Chapters. Completed. Full work on AO3.

The Best Gift (Legolas x unnamed OC- one-shot - Third Age 556) Legolas wishes a "dear friend" a Joyous Begetting Day--but anonymously. Completed.

Unnecessary Guardian (Legolas x unnamed OC - one-shot - Third Age 1254) Legolas wants to guard his friend in her new role as a Mirkwood Spiderhunter. Completed.

Transformed (Gelir x unnamed OC- one-shot - Third Age 1554) A Mirkwood huntress is attacked by a dark beast and begins a slow and gradual transformation into a monster herself. Completed.

The Baker from Lórien (Haldir & OC Mother - one-shot- Third Age 246) A visitor from Lórien brings some excitement to the kitchens of the Elvenking's palace. Completed.

Breathe (Boromir x unnamed OC- one-shot - Third Age 3008) You have harbored a deep, secret crush on Boromir for years, and have now been asked by him to dance. Completed. (Will be continued in an upcoming long fic.)

Dandelions (Boromir x unnamed OC - one-shot - Third Age 3015) Boromir brings flowers to his lady love. Completed.

Taken (Eomer x OC - 3-part fic - Third Age 3019) A shield-maiden learns her hidden love for the Marshal of her Eored, now the King of Rohan, may not be unrequited as she had always assumed. Completed. (Sequel in progress.)

The Broken Shield (Thorin & Frerin - one-shot - Third Age 2791-2799) The young Princes of Erebor forge a surprising alliance with the Elves of Mirkwood to fight together in the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. Entry to the Thorin's Spring Forge 2023 event. Completed.

The Task of Living (Thorin x unnamed OC - one-shot - Third Age 2943) The re-throned King of Erebor returns to his former village in Dunland, seeking the woman he has loved since long ago. Completed.

The Only Gold (Fili x OC - ongoing series - Third Age 2941) Fili, heir presumptive of Erebor, befriends a mysterious elf-maiden during the Company's sojourn at Rivendell. Their bond will shift the courses not just of their individual destinies, but that of their peoples. In Progress.

Cinder Girl (Fili x unnamed OC - one-shot - Third Age 2945) The Crown Prince of Erebor faces the dilemma of losing his heart to a lovely yet humble palace servant. Completed. [New!]

OTHER USEFUL LINKS:

Introduction to SotWK

Headcanon Masterlist

[freyasigtryggrsdottir]

I See Fire chapter 7. (Thorin x reader)

Summary: Reader is the Princess of Goldar. She almost killed by Vlad, the biggest orc, but Dis saved and raised her in safe. But what if the revenge is the most important thing? The reader wants her throne and she will fight until her last breath.

Thorin is a single dwarf without Queen and he knows this is not good. He always grumpy and the gossips speak about, he is a weak dwarf, who don’t have enough power.

Fili fell in love in the reader.He knows, one day, he will be a king. And he hopes the reader will be his queen.

But Dis have an another goal.

An arranged marriage between the reader and Thorin, which changed everything. Broken hearts. Hopes. Dreams. Pain. Everything will burn.

Pairing: Fili x Reader (one sided), Thorin x Reader

__________________________________________

I didn't know how much time I spent in the abandoned floors. I walked a lot and I thought about a lot of things. I missed my mother, but she lied to me in my whole life. And Thrun....did he knew or at least expected the truth, before his life ended? His brother and his wife were traitors. I was sad, I felt the pain in my heart. Thranduil... why did he didn't told me earlier? He saw when my home fell, he knew that I'm alive and yet he kept that secret away from me for years. He didn't even came to see me. But if I'm the princess of Mirkwood, it ment I have an army, probably, and the help with those elves, I can retake Goldar and my people will be free again.

I felt again that harsh pain in my stomach, but it was worser. I hissed and I leaned to the cold wall with my back. I wanted to cry. I heard soft footsteps, but the pain became unbearable and I fell to the floor. My last memory was Legolas, who lifted me up from the floor and carefully took me into his arms. My brother is strong and brave. When I was young we played a lot and he won almost every time.

I felt a warm body beside me. I slowly opened my eyes. Thorin lied next to me with concerned eyes. "Finally, you are here with me, Amralime" he hugged me thigthly.

At that moment, the door opened, and Thranduil stepped into our room like a wildfire. He was furious. I don't wanted to talk with him, but I felt the pain again. I whinced.

"You need to change your form" dad words were command "This is your only chance to survive"

I sighed and nodded. I almost forgot how to change between my forms. This human skin were not the real me. It was a shelter, where I hid. A shelter, which was weaker. The last time, when I was in my, real, elf form was when I lost my parents. Since that day, I was afraid to use this power, because I was afraid, If I use again, my loved ones will die, just like on that day. "Don't be afraid, I'm here with you" whispered Thorin with a voice full of love "But you need to do that, your body is weaker in this form"

I nodded again and closed my eyes. I imagined myself in a bright, white cocoon, like a caterpillar, before they become beautiful butterfly. I felt something hot, who flow through my veins. Power. I hearc loud cracks, there were my bones and my body. It didn't hurt, but it was strange and familiar at the same time. I murmured those ancient words again and aiagn. My mother thaught me them. They helped me to change my form.

When I opened my eyes, the whole world changed. My skin became lighter, my hair longer and my senses better. But the pain in my stomach gone. A took a deep breath and sat up. Curious eyes watched me. Thranduil, Dis, Legolas, Fili and Thorin. They were with me and I was alive, like really, when a door open again and you see and sense everything clearlier. Dis gave me some water and I drink with one gulp. She smiled.

"Everyone go out, except my sister" growled Thorin and hugged me. Their arms never left my body.

Some of them didn't liked what the King said, but they did, because in Erebor, his word were everything.

"I thought you can't be more gorgeous, but I was wrong" he whispered to my lips while he gave me a gently kiss. I blushed and hid my face in his chest.

"How are you feeling, my little child?" asked Dis with a proud smile and sat down on the bed, close to us.

"A little strange, but it will go away with time. Finally I don't feel that pain" I replied. I bit my lips "Thorin, I know, we need a big wedding, because its a porotocol, but I want to be your wife, so maybe, we can make a little ceremony today"

A lot of ting changed, while I was in my elf form, and my mind too, my feelings. I felt so much stuff deeper.