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#Thranduil: we are not the same
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Elwe, finwe, olwe, and ingwe: *chilling in valinor post 3rd age*
Lasgen: *kicks in the door* i’m sorry, i have to ask-
Lasgen: WHY THE FUCK ARE YA’LLS DESCENDANTS OBSESSED WITH FUCKING EACH OTHER? IS IT SOMETHING IN THE WATER HERE???
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@ Mahal’s Hall front door circa Gimli’s death.
*knock knock*
Mahal, yelling through the door: I don’t want what you’re selling!
???: I want my husband back!
Mahal, opening the door: What?
Legolas: Give me my husband back.
Mahal: Look it doesn’t work like that—
Legolas bites Mahal’s leg.
Mahal: WTF—
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deadlymistletoe · 10 months
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A Marriage Overridden
Pairing: Thranduil x f!reader
Genre: Angst/romance
Description: Keeping your relationship with Thranduil a secret backfires when your parents arrange a marriage for you. Thankfully, all arranged marriages have to go through the elvenking himself.
Warnings: None? Reader doesn't have the best parents, but nothing physical or too bad overall.
Word count: 1745
The only sound was that of the basket you had been holding clattering to the ground, flowers so lovingly picked spilling out.
You stared between your parents, your eyes pleading with them to announce that this was nothing more than a joke made in bad taste.
They didn’t.
“No. No! You can’t!” You choked out. This couldn’t be happening. You had to have heard wrong… but no, your mother shook her head, a small smile on her face.
“Y/N, this is a good thing. We only want what’s best for you, and nothing can get better than this.” She ignored you as you shook your head, in denial. “Callon is a well respected soldier in the king’s guard, and his parents have agreed that the two of you would make a fine match. You would be respected, and treated well, what more could you want?”
Thranduil. The name was on the tip of your tongue, but you held it back, whether from the shock or the practice of keeping your involvement with the king a secret you weren’t sure.
When you’d first gotten involved with Thranduil, the secrecy had been necessary - it was a new relationship, he was the king - well above your own social status - and neither of you wanted the opinions of the kingdom to influence your relationship. Whether it worked out or not, at least then it could happen naturally without being scrutinized.
As your relationship developed into something more serious, neither of you suggested letting the secrecy stop - this was something that was yours, it belonged to the two of you, and neither of you wanted to burst the little bubble the two of you were in.
Besides - there was just something exciting about that idea of sneaking around, forbidden fruit, so to speak (you still remembered the way your heart had rapidly beat against your chest when the two of you had been abruptly interrupted and you’d had to hide in the large closet of silks while Galion spoke to the king about a delivery of wine of all things.)
You were happy. You were, dare you say it, in love.
And now, when faced with the question of what you could want more than what your parents were offering, an image of the pale-haired ellon surfaced in your mind.
You took a deep breath, looking at your parents. “I can’t marry Callon. Please don’t ask me why, I just can’t.”
Your father frowned. “This could be your only chance. If you can’t give us a proper reason..”
He trailed off and you stuttered, scrambling for an answer that wouldn’t reveal the secret you kept so close to your heart. “I don’t love him!”
Your mother laughed lightly. “Oh, my dear Y/N. If that’s all then there’s nothing to be worried about. Your father and I weren’t in love either, but we came to love each other over time. I’m sure it would be the same for you.” She lowered her voice as if telling a secret. “Besides, I’ve heard Callon is very fond of you.”
You scoffed. “I’ve spoken to him once, to ask him to move out of a doorway! How can he be fond of me? He doesn’t even know me!”
Your mother stopped smiling. “That’s enough. This is going ahead whether you like it or not. We can’t let an opportunity like this slide past.”
You felt betrayed as you looked at your parents who had raised you, loved you. “That’s all this is to you? An opportunity? You care more about gaining status than what I want?”
Your father shook his head. “We’re doing this for you. You’ll thank us later. Now make yourself presentable. We’ve scheduled an audience with King Thranuil in order to make the arrangement official.”
~
After you’d locked yourself in your bedroom you leant back against the door. The ‘audience’ with the king was in less than an hour. Your parents had given you no warning so you wouldn’t have time to try to find a way around the arrangement.
You didn’t even have time to find Thranduil and warn him. Oh, no. Sure, the king had the option to decline the arrangement with good reason, but what reason was good enough? Would he risk the aftermath of revealing his relationship with you just for this? What if he thought you wanted this? Asked for it even, and decided not to tell him?
This couldn’t be happening.
But it was. And now you were seated stiffly beside Callon, avoiding Thranduil’s gaze from where he sat across from you on the other side of his desk.
You and Callon’s parents sat on either side of the two of you, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room.
It didn’t take Thranduil long to read the document that needed only his signature to be valid.
His eyes moved questionly to you when he finished, and you wondered if you imagined the brief look of confusion and hurt before his expression cleared.
Maybe it was a testament to just how strong your relationship had become, but in the brief moment your eyes locked, you could almost hear him asking you, ‘Is this what you want?’ and you replied with a very slight shake of your head, your eyes clearly sending him your answer. ‘No.’
He didn’t reply, instead turning his attention to the elves who had arranged the marriage and leaned back in his seat with a sigh, “I’m afraid I shall have to override this marriage.”
You let out a silent sigh of relief, wondering just how he was going to justify his decision. After all, it was almost unheard of for the king to interfere with this sort of thing, simply signing off on it without a second thought.
Callon frowned beside you, but you didn’t pay him any mind, instead watching as confusion and slight frustration passed over the faces of the others in the room.
“What?” Your mother stumbled over her words, "Why?” Your father nudged her and she quickly tacked on the words, “Your majesty.”
Thranduil looked almost amused as he answered. “Your daughter is already betrothed. She can hardly be betrothed to two ellon’s at the same time, can she?”
The looks that crossed the faces of your parents would have been comical had it been any other situation. 
Callon’s parents looked at yours in confusion and annoyance, clearly wondering why your parents had agreed to such an arrangement if their daughter was already romantically attached to someone.
Then you did a double take as his words registered.
What?
“To who?”
You narrowed your eyes. Yes, you thought, to whom am I betrothed without knowing it?
He met your eyes with his. “To me.”
Oh. Oh! You felt your heart flutter in your chest, your cheeks heating up before you were knocked back to reality at the reactions of the others in the room.
Shock covered the faces of the other elves in the room, and as you timidly watched the emotions cross your parent’s faces, Callon’s mother spoke up. “It seems that none of us were aware of this development, otherwise we never would have suggested…”
Your mother turned to look at you. “Why didn’t you tell us?” She asked, and you couldn’t tell if she was more angry or hurt that you hadn’t told her.
You searched fruitlessly for an answer, vaguely hearing Callon’s parents leave the room after excusing themselves, when Thranduil’s low voice cut in, answering for you. “I asked her not to. Clearly, I was wrong in doing so, but do not punish your daughter for my misjudgement.”
Your parents stared at Thranduil - who had come around to your side of the desk - for a moment before quickly assuring him that they didn’t blame him, nor would they take it out on you.
Your mother paused on the way out, looking at you. “Are you happy?”
You glanced at Thranduil, watching you carefully before looking back at your mother. “Yes.”
She nodded, glancing between you and Thranduil. “We’ll speak to you later.”
As they left, movement suddenly reminded you that Callon was still here as he stood up, glancing nervously at his king.
Thranduil tilted his head towards the elf. “I do not blame you for the mistakes of others. Go in peace.”
Callon nodded, relieved, and headed for the door but hesitated, looking back at you before leaving. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad our parents weren’t able to go through with it, for my heart too is already taken.”
You gave him a smile as he left, suddenly feeling much more sympathetic towards the ellon.
You turned back to Thranduil, suddenly feeling nervous. What if he only said what he did to override the arrangement? What if he didn’t actually wish to marry you? What would happen now the secret was out?
He didn’t give you much any more time to worry. As soon as you’d turned around his lips landed on yours and you felt yourself relaxing against him. This had to be a good sign, right?
Thranduil pulled back, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he looked at you, voice a mere murmur as he spoke. “I apologize if I was out of line, but I couldn’t think of anything else. Of course, if you don’t wish to marry me you are under no obligation-”
“What?” You cut him off, wondering if you were hearing right.
He frowned before beginning to repeat himself, but you interrupted again. “No, I mean, you weren’t just saying it? You mean if I did wish to marry you…you’d be okay with it?”
He shook his head, a bemused expression on his face. “Of course I’d be okay with it. I just didn’t want to assume…getting married would mean telling people about our relationship and I wasn’t sure you’d want that.”
A smile came across your lips. “You should have said something earlier.”
He hummed. “I suppose if I had then we wouldn’t have ended up in a situation like today.”
You giggled before becoming serious again. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. It was too late by the time my parents told me.”
His breath brushed against your ear as he leant closer, pulling you against me. “It’s not your fault,” you felt him smirk against your skin, “but should you wish to make it up to me regardless…”
“Of course.” You breathed as he connected your lips once more.
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@fizzyxcustard @bookworm-with-coffee
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intoxicated-chan · 1 year
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𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 #𝟐
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© Intoxicated-Chan 2023, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. I only have one other platform and that’s Wattpad (same name).
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tarantado-si-viann · 11 months
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The Elves Reacting To Their S/O Wearing Their Clothes^^
Pronouns: You mostly so it's GN^^
A/n: So, hello! I'm new here on tumblr and I just thought that a nice, maybe warm, headcannon ( is that how you spell it? ) would do good for a first start.,. I'm sorry in advanced if there are spellings that are needed to correct! Also, I was lowbat at the moment so I could only do three huhu. But either way, please enjoy<3
P.S- if you liked this one, do me a favor and reblog, won't you?
LEGOLAS•°`~
• "And what's this I see?"
• Although Legolas didn't mind lending his clothes to other people, you may be the first to amuse him in this state.
• There you were dressed in his casual, green, elven shirt with his double sized elven pants on you.
• "Why, hello there! I don't believe we've met...?" he smirks, rubbing his nose as he circles around you in curiosity. You giggled at his pretending and you played along.
• "Y'know, I haven't seen such a handsome ellon like yourself," you state and punch his arm gently. "You are?"
• For a moment, Legolas doesn't know what to say. In fact, he paces around, brewing the correct words until they lingered on the edge of his tongue.
• "The love of your life."
• You were shocked with his sudden answer and felt a trickling heat that crept onto your face in a flustered blush. You stumbled back while hovering your right palm unto your dusted cheeks in embarassment. Legolas chuckled and pulled you close into his arms.
• "Oh, melleth nin, I adore you so. However, I was truly surprised to see you in my own garmets. What made you think of this adorable nonsense?"
• "I didn't think I'd come up to this as well. You know me, full of surprises. Wait... are you perhaps cross?"
• Legolas kissed your forehead and rubbed circles on your back.
• No, Legolas wasn't cross. He was delighted by this incident that he even offered you to borrow more of his clothes next time. Why would he be cross with the person he loved the most?
• "I am not cross, my love. I am very happy and this just gave me an idea! Why don't we do this together? You wear my clothes again and I'll wear yours. Are you up? We could go surprise everyone here in Mirkwood!"
• A fond smile painted on your lips as you nodded in agreement. "Sure thing."
THRANDUIL•°`~
• "Y/n!" A needy voice echoed down the halls calling your name.
• "Huh?" you flinch on your spot, hurriedly placing king Thranduil's belongings back to where they exactly were minutes ago.
• Although you may had messed up... too much. Why, you didn't even know where to begin.
• "Where do these hangers go? How about the robes, oh! And the brushes as well!" you thought while your hands quickly picked up everything you saw. Hot damn!
• The footsteps grew louder and louder until they finally stopped at Thranduil's room. He was annoyed, no joke.
• The door carefully opened, revealing you caught in the headlights.
• "Y—"
• What were those? WHAT WERE THOSE ON YOU? WAS THAT HIS RED ROBE AND RINGS ON YOUR FINGERS?
• Thranduil was speechless. Unlike his son, he wasn't too keen on lending his spare clothes. But this, this would have to been an exception.
• His irritation disappeared like a bubble in an instant. "Uh... I'm sorry..." you sighed and began to remove everything you had a hard time putting on. What was truly the waste was the small, leaf branch circlet thingy that took you hours to prepare.
• However, Thranduil stopped you, a shy look on his face.
• "N-no... please... ke-keep them... I mean, well, uh... I—"
• You laughed nervously. "Wait what?" He looked so sincere, so that had your mind twisted in confusion and at the same time, gave you a hard time comprehending what he just said, not to mention his stuttering.
• "No... keep them, please. As long as you're happy, my dear."
• You blinked a few times before a happy grin etched on your face. It was a sight to see for Thranduil.
• He walked closer to you and fixed the stray hairs on your face, tucking them under your ears. He hummed in satisfaction before placing a quick kiss on your lips. He then turned back to the door when he didn't notice you followed his heels. "What?" he asked you in the least of annoyance.
• You shook your head and wrapped your left arm around his right one. Giving in, he dare let you roam inside the halls with his vibes radiating off of you.
• But wait...
• Where's the circlet thing????
ELROND•°`~
A/n: oof, that's my father figure^^
" Dear, Y/n! Please slow down!" Lindir called from behind you, dragging his heavy clothes along as his panting grew louder and louder across the halls.
You didn't pay mind to him as you continued to jog towards the council meeting, to which you could already see outside the door.
Lindir, who was too tired to chase after you, leaped into the air, catching you off guard, and grasped the end of your long robes. His body hit hard on the floor which made you shriek in guilt.
"Oh, Lindir! Are you hurt? Where does it hurt??" you worriedly call as you helped him sit up. The ellon wore an irritated expression on his usual bright face which made chills slither down your spine. You knew this wasn't normal, and to Lindir… well…
ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH.
"Y/n! Calm down at once! My lord Elrond will not be pleased when he finds out that you have fitted once more into his fine robes! Not even the mere 'fun' I'd expect from someone as superior as you. Yet, you've decided to do it again, I mean, LOOK AT YOU!!"
This wasn't the kind of critique you had expected from your best friend. Nonetheless, it offended you when you realized you had offended him as well. This poor elf was now injured for your sake. He just didn't want you to be judged and judged so rudely. No, not like the last time you imitated Lord Elrond's attire at one feast. Damn elves.
"I'm sorry, mellon. I'd be careful next time. But… I don't want to take these off yet! Can't we make most of the hard work?" you pleaded, pulling the puppy eyes that seemed to get everyone and literally EVERYONE all of the time.
"Screw this. Be free, Y/n. You are big and old enough to make decisions of your own." he spits with concealed amusement in his tone. To this, you smile, help him stand and leave him alone in the hallways.
"Make Elrond love you hard!" you kept in mind.
The council consisted of several elves including the Sindarin, Legolas, and Elrond who was seated at the edge of the circle of chairs. Gandalf was on one side and a dwarf at the other edge. The rest was occupied by more elves, a hobbit, and two humans, leaving you a rather intentional saved spot beside the Lord of Imladris.
Everyone's eyes laid on you. You had imitated every part of Elrond— his hair, clothes, shoes, and a hand made ringlet that matched his own.
Elrond raised a brow at you, but you could tell that he was delighted with… you. "Ah, well someone's tardy today. Where have you been and what have you been up to?" he asks slyly with a smirk on his face.
"I certainly had brewed some sort of mess back in your chambers. Tut! Well, that's nothing to worry about now, meleth. We should begin this instance!" you smile cheekily, patting his arm, head resting on his shoulder. You had made yourself too comfortable before a meeting. How would you be able to focus now?
"We'll discuss this 'brewed mess' after today's meeting. For now, we will figure out ways to destroy the ring."
•°`~~~~~~♪
This was so dumb.
Feel free to request!
No tags at the moment^^
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theatrum-tenebrarum · 2 years
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Misunderstanding Lucifer from the Sandman series and why Gwendoline Christie is the right choice (an art historian and occultist's opinion)
I am writing this post as I'm absolutely baffled by the issues people seem to have with the portrayal of the character of Lucifer in the Sandman series. For some reason people find it problematic that the fallen angel is played by Gwendoline Christie, a powerful and androgynous-looking woman, but there is seemingly no problem with Lucifer being played by a black-haired man in the nightclub business (Tom Ellis in the Netflix series 'Lucifer'). Don't get me wrong, Tom Ellis is entertaining and wonderful to watch, but that particular version of Lucifer is neither canon when it comes to the comics nor does it have anything to do with the actual angel Lucifer.
Angels are genderless beings and they have always been portrayed as androgynous in the history of art. Multiple literary sources, including grimoires (books with supposed instructions on how to summon these beings and many others), state that angelic beings as well as demons are able to change their appearance. Many of those forms they might take aren't even humanoid and they can choose not to show any physical form at all. They aren't corporeal beings, the fact that they do take on any resemblance of a physical form is just so humans can understand them better. That's why we've been painting them as human-like ever since the early times of human civilization. What we make to be similar to us is what makes it comprehensible. Portraying beings from other dimensions/realms as human-like but with androgynous features is a way to show they don't belong in the physical dimension, as gender is likely a non-existent concept in other realms of existence. Androgyny of mythical beings, therefore, emphasizes the fact they are different than physical beings such as humans.
Therefore, when portraying an angelic being in art, or in any type of media, making them androgynous is making way for their essence to come through. In a way, the same applies to the way elves are portrayed as ethereal and androgynous since they don't have to be corporeal beings at all, at least when it comes to folklore. I know this opinion might not be understandable to others or it might sound controversial, but I believe that not portraying an angelic being as androgynous and not showing any signs of their divine origin (these include mannerisms that emphasize their etheriality for example, a cadence in their voice that is different etc.) is a huge missed opportunity that might rob these interesting mythical beings of what they are. Not making angels feel like angels beats the point of having an angel character (in a movie, series or video game for example) in the first place.
This is why Gwendoline Christie is the right choice. At a height of 6′ 3″ (1.91 m), captivatingly pale. androgynous with a powerful specific sort of grace and presence - a perfect 'vessel' for the Morning Star. What's more, she understands the importance, complexity, grandeur and the mythical dimension of the figure of Lucifer, as well as the whole 'spirituality' of the Sandman universe which is rather evident from her approach to this role and the interviews she has given so far. I might go so far to say that, even though the Sandman series isn't even out yet (though there is some footage available already), the casting of Gwendoline as Lucifer feels right just as the casting of Lee Pace as Thranduil in the Hobbit felt right and I consider the character of Thranduil to be the best portrayal of a humanoid mythical being on TV. Lee felt like an elven king, moved like an elven king, spoke like an elven king and radiated an energy of the dimension the elven king might have come from (I'm talking about the folkloric 'Otherworld' where elves supposedly live). I feel the same might apply to Gwendoline and Lucifer.
As an occultist, art historian, anthropologist and someone who is rather fond of the figure of Lucifer, I am looking forward to seeing how Gwendoline interprets him. Finally, we might get something completely different from a frequently portrayed 'demonic' side/version of this important mythical character. We might just see the Light Bringer who has not forgotten his divine origin.
- Heidi (@theatrum-tenebrarum)
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Gwendoline Christie as Lucifer (The Sandman series on Netflix, out 5th August 2022)
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lamemaster · 1 month
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Made of Sugar
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Request: Hi! Hope this finds you well, mind if i req for a Thranduil x reader where they're like telling legolas how they met, maybe they met during the war of the last alliance? anyways love ur work especially the angst but now i need some not angst? cus im actually going to cry lmao
Pairing: Thranduil x Wife Reader
Genre: Fluff
AN: This has been due a long time! I'm sorry for the delay but this writer suffers from smooth brain 98% of the time.
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“Legolas Thranduilion!” Your voice rings out loud, breaking his thoughts. For once, he wishes his father's presence was there. “Have I not made it clear that you are not to go to the wine cellars?” You pinch your nose blinking furiously as was your habit when agitated. 
Legolas hasn’t known love stronger than the one he has felt for you, his eme. Your stories, your songs, the little stars you paint on the roof of his room– Legolas absorbs them with the wide-eyed devotion of a sunflower turning its face to the first rays of the sun.  
But all that love does not diminish the distress of your anger. You, the one who laughed most easily, whose smile could chase away any shadow, were now a storm cloud gathered over his head.
The familiar scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke that clung to you did little to soothe the storm brewing in your eyes. Legolas flinched – he knew the terrifying, steely glint that hardened your gaze when truly angered. It was a sight rarer than a dust storm in Greenwood, but all the more impactful when it came. 
 At barely 80 years old, facing your wrath felt far more daunting than any monstrous spider lurking in the Greenwood.
"You are too young," you said, your voice tight. "Just you wait until I tell Thranduil." You paced around the room, pinching the bridge of your nose, a telltale sign of your agitation. "Maybe he will listen and move the wine cellars away from the main palace."
Staring at the untouched cakes, Legolas yearned for nothing more than for this tension to pass. He longed to see your easy smile return.  The sight of untouched cakes, usually a source of joy, only emphasized the heavy weight of your displeasure. He longed for the days when your laughter filled the room, chasing away any shadow.
“Beloved queen of mine,” Thranduil sauntered in, his footsteps barely a whisper on the polished floor. The scent of pine needles and leather, a familiar trail, announced his presence even before he entered. “The cellar unfortunately cannot be moved.” Thranduil is already in the process of taking off his heavy robes while detangling his hair from the crown's tiny branches.
Legolas watched with a flicker of worry as your eyes narrowed in annoyance before you gave up to help his ada. "He went in there today," your gaze felt heavy on him even as you busied yourself helping Thranduil detangle the crown. "What if he drank your wine? That thing is disgusting and Legolas is too young. You must move the wine somewhere else." You placed the crown on the table.
Thranduil threw him an amused grin as your back remained turned to them as you instructed the staff to bring fresh snacks and tea. "What if I didn't get there in time…good thing Feren was kind enough to inform me."
"I am disappointed Legolas," Thranduil looked at him without an ounce of anger, and your glare at the king of Greenwood told him that this did not go unnoticed by you. "But I am sorry, my love," He looked up at you with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, "The cellars must remain untouched. I would never in a million ages, change the place of our first meeting."
Legolas' breath hitched in his throat. You frowned. And Thranduil snickered in delight.
"You cannot be serious!" You replied indignantly.
"You met in the wine cellars?!" Legolas asked at the same time.
"We did, ion," Thranduil adds before you can cover his lips with your palm. Thranduil throws his head back and lets out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the room. A weird sight to see you this flustered, this agitated.
"We did not!"
"We absolutely did!"
"Well, I was 120," you say, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "You were not  princeling."
The servants gawk at the term of endearment that slips past your lips. Some almost drop the trays of food as they put them in front of you. But both you and Thranduil are too taken by the task of bickering like decade-old elflings. "Oh yeah, I too was of age," Thranduil counters with a twinkle in his eye. "Almost of age. Only 4 years shy of it."
Thranduil straightens up, taking a playful bite into a fruit cake. "Four years too young, my love," you smirk, the topic of Legolas' transgression long forgotten. The steel of your rage softened into its original inky warmth.
"I acquiesce, my respected elder," Thranduil bows dramatically, sending another wave of laughter through the room. Legolas watched in amusement, a flicker of relief washing over him as the conversation shifted. Your voices rose in a playful argument.
Legolas, eyeing the untouched cakes, finally understood. Your gentle nature thrived beside his father, much like the sweetness of a cake is best appreciated with a pinch of salt.
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Note
Hello. Can you write Dark!Thranduil and a plus size female reader ? Please.
.⋆。Auta Nissë。⋆.
Dark!Thranduil x human!plus size reader
She was unique, she was beautiful, she was soft and by the gods, she would be his
Warnings: DARK FIC, kidnapping, forced marriage, obsession, mentions of death, magic, manipulation, no use of y/n, drugging
WC: 1.1k
A/N: Title means kept woman
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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It was certainly curious, a woman among the group of dwarves his guards had brought him- and a human woman at that. She stood out from the group like a sore thumb, yet she fit in with them all the same. They crowded around her legs as if to shield her from his gaze, to protect her from whatever he had in store for the trespassers.
“How fascinating, a woman in your midst. Tell me, king under the mountain, is she your bed warmer or just a lost creature you took pity on?” He sat forward on his throne of knotted wood, his crystal blue eyes focused on her, taking in every inch of her face. She showed no fear, nor any offence to his crudeness. The king smirked, she would do well.
The dwarves around her exploded, each attempting to insult him in not only the common tongue but in their native language as well. He paid them no mind, letting his gaze drift down to her body. She was at least modest, a large white shirt and dark trousers hid her away, disguising her curves quite well but he could still see the bulge of her hips and the softness of her stomach.
She was unlike any woman he had encountered before. Her eyes held the fire of a warrior, her hands were as stable as a healer’s, and the protective stance of a mother. “Take them away, but leave the girl. I believe she will tell us what we wish to know.” He spoke over their shoats, ignoring the way that they all reached for her as if their pathetic efforts could somehow save her.
Her fingers curled into her palm but otherwise gave him no reaction to suddenly being isolated. Gracefully, he stood to his full height, easily towering over the woman, casting a dark shadow over her as he approached. “Why do you travel with such… filth?” He crooned.
“I was hired to do so.” She answered simply, her voice strong. It carried through the throne room like a lone instrument in a concert hall and settled into his bones, marking them with the melodic tones of her words. A fire began to grow in his loins.
He took a step closer, she did not flinch. “I could offer you a place here, in my court. Certainly your skills and your beauty would be of more value here than on some fruitless journey that will only end in death.” As he drew closer, more of her perfect imperfections became clearer- her moles and birthmarks, scars and blemishes, but to him, they were simply an extra detail in the statuesque flawlessness of her figure.
“If it ends in death, then that will be how I die.” She retorted, lifting her head to meet his gaze once more as he was now only arm’s distance away. “I am human, death is not unknown to us.”
The side of Thranduil’s face burned with rage, reminding him of what he had lost to death all those many years ago. But that defiance, that drive so similar to that of his late wife, soothed the burn. “There are ways to cheat death, even for a human. But for now, it is my wish that you remain here until I decide how your quest shall continue.” With a flick of his slender wrist, he summoned two more guards.
They stood either side of her and began to lead her away. “You cannot stop fate, your highness.” She called, making him pause. The doors slammed closed behind her, leaving the great elven king to his thoughts.
——————
“I’m glad you joined me for dinner tonight.” He remarks while knowing that she had no choice. The Battle of The Five Armies had concluded months ago, Erebore was free and peace had finally settled over the land, yet Thranduil was still in the midst of his own war.
She refused his love. Isolating herself in the rooms he had so graciously given her, throwing away the luxurious food prepared fresh each day, even attempting to enact various escape attempts, but that had slowed significantly when she was moved to his own chambers and could be restrained each night in his arms.
Her silence irked him but he allowed it. “I wish that you would gain back some weight before the wedding.” She glared in response, merely sipping at her wine with her one free hand, the other bound to the ornate seat she was forced into. 
He sighed through his nose, hiding a smirk behind his own goblet. Her eyes fluttered shut as she drank the expensive liquor, savouring the sweet taste, unknowing that it was not the wine itself that gave the dark liquid its flavour. 
“Meletril.” (lover) He tuts, rising from his own chair to round the table. “Your hair is a mess. Let me fix it for you.” She was stiff as his slender fingers began to pick at her hair, delicately moving large strands into several braids. He worked quickly, the patterns and movements now an unconscious practice even if he had not practised in almost 1000 years.
“There, now I can properly see your pretty face.” His right hand cupped her full cheek, guiding her face upwards to him. Her eyes were now glassy, the potion he had snuck into her drink beginning to affect her, but her fire was still there, just existing as an ember now.
“This will not last, I will perish sooner or later and you will be left alone again.” She hissed, the bite in her tone significantly dulled. Yet Thranduil smiled and brushed her soft skin with his thumb before retreating back to his seat.
“Thorin sends his well-wishes, he is very excited about the wedding. And your little friend, what was his name, oh right! Bilbo, he will be journeying from the Shire with his nephew to attend.” Her nostrils flared with rage.
“Just kill me already! I am of no use to you other than a pet!” She cried, though her voice was beginning to slur as the magic took hold of her. 
The elven king slammed his hand on the table, immediately silencing her. “Enough! I have had enough of your silly rebellions and cruel words. You will be my wife simply because I love you. So no more silly speak of you being a pet, you are my equal, my queen but you obviously need to be reminded of your place. You are to never leave my side, death will not take you, I have made sure of that. Now eat.” Her eyes were now wide with panic, the truth finally settling in.
“What have you done?” Her skin began to glow as the transformation began. The king watched as all the indicators of her age were wiped away, the smile lines, the bags beneath her eyes, even scarring from the blemishes of puberty. She was ethereal, eternal now, just like him.
“I have changed your fate.”
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elfy-elf-imagines · 9 months
Text
— In the Fields of Poppy | Thranduil *✧・゚
▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Elf!Reader
▹ Genre: Fluff and Angst (mentions of death and the aftermath of war)
▹ Words: ~2k
▹ Summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of the Five Armies, you have a chance encounter with the King.
▹ Notes: This is unedited because we die as men! Also because I'm sleep deprived rn. Let me know what you thought!
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚
The carnage had been terrible; the aftermath of the battle more brutal than any recount would ever fully capture. 
Broken stained glass mosaics formed with blood from all sides of the battle glistened in the sun. There was a heavy fog that clung to the ground, the wails of survivors finding the corpses of their loved ones. You couldn’t focus on it, blocking out as much of the noise as possible. Later you would feel the weight of the lives lost, you were certain, but for now, there was work to be done. 
You kneeled before the squirming body of a dwarven soldier, too delirious off his own pain to scorn the healing of an elvish maid. There was a cut on his leg that was bleeding profusely, his skin showing the beginning signs of infection from the poison the orcs used. He was muttering in Khuzdul, his eyes staring blankly at the sky. His eyes were locked on the sun, and if there weren’t other grievous injuries taking priority, you would’ve reminded him to not stare at the sun. But who cares for blindness if you’re already dead?
With ghost-like touches and careful concentration, you placed the healing salve on his leg, cleaning the wound as best you could beforehand. He hissed in pain from the contact, his eyes no longer looking at the sun but at you. He continued to speak in Khuzdul, this time at you, with spite and pain written on his face. You weren’t concerned, continuing to work as you numbed yourself to your surroundings. 
A group of elven soldiers marched past you, carrying the body of their fallen comrade, faces stricken with grief. Your eyes darted away from the sight and returned your attention to carefully wrapping your patient’s leg with bandages. 
“I don’t have anything for the pain, I’m afraid,” you said to him, briefly meeting his eyes that went back to looking at the sun. He muttered incoherently, and while he spoke Common this time, his words were lost on you. 
Tying the final bandage, you then began the same work on the rest of his wounds. More wails and more dead bodies carried from the battlefield, but you blocked it all out. There was no time to be swallowed in the suffering. Once all his wounds had been tended to and your dress was drenched in the blood of another patient, you stood from the ground. A dwarven soldier rushed forward to bring his comrade to the tents where the injured were resting. Words of thanks fell from his mouth, but you had already turned away, moving towards the next person. 
This time it was an elf, so young he couldn’t be more than a century old. Old enough to serve in the guard but too young to die; it made you sick to your stomach. There was a gash near his neck, the veins around it turning black. The poison had already gotten into his system; it was only a matter of time before it took him. Yet you kneeled beside him and gently placed his head in your lap as you began cleaning the wound. 
Unlike the dwarf from before, his eyes met yours, a grin on his lips. It looked out of place on his face, contorted into pain. He spoke softly in elvish, reciting an old song that mothers usually sang to their children when putting them to bed. As the cold salve touched his neck, he froze up, twitching slightly at the sensation.
Silence enveloped the two of you, he no longer sang, yet his eyes stayed on you. A stray piece of hair had fallen from your messy braid, the elf reaching up and grabbing it. He held it between his fingers, mouth parted and eyes a thousand miles away. 
“Naneth--” he trailed off, muttering more incoherent words. You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to continue working as a spark of pain reactivated your cold heart. He called you mother; the poison must’ve already reached his head, making him see things that weren’t there. 
Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes as you looked away to reach into your healer’s kit. He must’ve been so terrified as death came closer, seeking comfort in a mother that wasn’t even here. You didn’t have the heart to correct him. Let the boy have a small bit of comfort. 
With a strip of bandage in your hand, when your eyes went back to his body, his eyes were shut, and his breathing ceased. Dead. 
Your hand fell limp at your side, eyes unmoving from his face. He looked at peace, expression no longer twisted in pain. A shuttered breath escaped your mouth, the chill in the air allowing you to see it blow away. You stood with shaky legs and trembling hands, two soldiers approaching to take his body away.
You’d been a healer for as long as you could remember, training for this since you were a little elfling running wild. Time allowed you to become numb to tragedy, keeping a clear head to do what needed to be done. But the elven boy’s death managed to stab a needle right through your heart. He was so young and vibrant, his potential severed by senseless war. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, like the ashes of the bodies the humans were burning. 
The mud squashed beneath your feet, eyes unseeing. You were a ghost on the battlefield, blood-stained dress blowing in the wind. How did the other healers seem so emotionless? Was the bite of death something that lessened the more you were near it? In a few years, would you have a disposition that was nearly mechanical? A part of you hoped for that release, while the other part of you was terrified by it. 
You turned, eyes meeting the misty blues ones of King Thranduil. He stood a few feet away from you, a vision amongst the dead. Tall and noble, he looked every bit the king he was. Golden like the dawn, his hair was loose and messy, and his previously pristine armor was dirty with mud and blood, cuts and minor wounds marring his body. Yet he looked eerily perfect. 
His stare was heavy, yet you refused to be the one to look away. A hint of a smirk appeared on the edges of his lips as his head tilted to the side. Long and sure strides brought him closer to you while you stayed locked in place. The king stood before you, towering over your smaller form. You may have been on the taller side; he made you feel as though you were a hobbit.
“What is your name?” 
You lowered your head in a half-bow, a pathetic attempt to show respect, not entirely accustomed to the presence of royalty. 
“Y/N, my king.”  
He nodded, mouthing your name as if to commit it to memory.
“Do you live in Eryn Galen? I have never seen you.”
“I grew up in Lothlorien, where I spent most of my life before training to be a healer in Imladris. I have only recently moved to Eryn Galen.”
Thranduil raised his eyebrows and clasped his hands behind his back. 
“How lucky we are to have a student of Lord Elrond among us.” You could discern if his words were patronizing or genuine, his tone not betraying his intentions. 
“I did not train under Lord Elrond personally.” You felt the need to correct him, not wanting him to think you of a higher station than you were.
“But your teachers were overseen by him, were they not?”
You nodded.
“Then you were trained by Lord Elrond, even if he himself didn’t oversee your education.” 
A small smile appeared on your lips, and you nodded. “I have no choice but to agree; who would I be to disagree with a king.”
A coy smile pulled on the edges of his lips as his eyes shone. 
“A foolish woman is who you would be. Walk with me?” It was phrased as a question, but he didn’t wait for your answer. His long strides carried him towards camp, and you had no choice but to follow.   
“Tell me, do you plan on staying in Eryn Galen long?” His voice was crisp but quiet enough that only you could hear them.
“I do. I have grown fond of the people and its forest.” You spoke genuinely and truthfully. The wood elves were reclusive and suspicious, but once you broke through those barriers, they were full of merriment and loyalty. You cherished the relationships you had already formed and were eager for more. 
“Even in its sickly state,” his tone was sardonic but not enough to hide the pain in his voice. How terrible it must’ve been to see his home twisted into something so evil while powerless to stop it. 
“I believe there is still hope for it to be returned to health.”
Thranduil stopped in his tracks, eyes meeting yours. You stopped as well, patiently waiting for what he may say next. His expression was unreadable, eyes searching yours for the answers to questions you didn’t know. 
Wherever he was searching for, it sent shivers down your spine and made goosebumps form on your arms. The moonlight was kind to him, bathing him in a silvery light that made him look like the elves of Lothlorien who always seemed to shine. You felt your heart stutter as butterflies formed in your stomach. 
It could’ve been a trick of the light, but you could’ve sworn there was a hint of affection in his bright eyes. After the death of his wife, rumors spread of his cold demeanor and harshen disposition. But now, before you, none of those adjectives seemed suited for him. As soft as the stars and as beautiful as the moon, how could he be anything but good and kind?
“I hope that you are right.” He finally broke the silence, eyes raising to the sky before he continued walking, and just as before, you matched his strides. Neither of you spoke, relishing in the silence after a terrible day full of death and terror. 
Finally, the both of you stopped in front of the tent that was yours.
“It was good to meet you today, Y/N. I hope to see you again; I find your company pleasant and your conversation enjoyable.”
A red flush made your face warm, and a child-like grin appeared on your lips. As light as a feather, you would’ve floated away had the king not grabbed your hand, delicately placing a kiss on your knuckles. 
When he released your hand, you lowered into a half curtsey, the movement not as fluid due to your dress that was stiff from the dried blood covering it. 
“It was an honor to speak with you, my king. I wish you a good rest tonight.” 
He smirked in a way that made your flush deepen.
“And if I find it difficult to find rest, will you brew me a tea to lull me to sleep.” 
“Herbology happens to be my specialty.” 
Thranduil gave a single, firm nod, yet his eyes never moved from yours. The affection you’d seen before was brighter, easier seen in the dim lighting. And you were certain your eyes portrayed the same attraction. Could this be the beginning of something wonderful?
“Then I shall know who to call upon in my hour of need.” He lowered into a full bow, his cloak billowing around him. You took a step back, a bout of giggle escaping your mouth. Who would’ve thought the stern king had a sense of humor?
“Farewell, my lady.” 
He then swept off further into the camp, and you stayed in your spot, watching his form disappear, only moving once you could no longer see him. You turned and entered your tent, hand placed upon your flushed cheek. As you readied yourself for bed, the encounter with Thranduil replayed in your mind. And suddenly, you found yourself dancing alone, unable to push back your excitement. 
And as you lay in bed and shut your eyes, you desperately hoped this would only be the beginning and not where the story would end. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚
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thewulf · 2 months
Text
Time is of the Essence || Legolas
Summary: Request - Heyy I was wondering if I could request a Legolas imagine where gimli tells the reader that Legolas likes them, maybe before a battle. Then throughout the battle they are distracted or thinking about what gimli said. Then after the battle the reader goes to tell Legolas that they feel the same or something like that :)
A/N: This one got away from me lmao but I had so much fun writing it. THANK YOU for all the requests. Wouldn't be here without each and every one of you!
Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader
Word Count: 6.3k +
TW: General LOTR triggers, blood, talk of death, shooting, stabbing etc
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“Who is that?” Asking quickly your eyes snapped up to the dark-haired twin standing tall next to you. His eyes turned to see the prince from Mirkwood ascending the steps to meet his father, Lord Elrond.
Elladan smirked at your curiosity. For in all the years he had known you, you had never so much given another ellon the time of day. Your interests always seemed to lie elsewhere, until now it seemed, “That is Legolas Thranduilion. Prince of Mirkwood.” He spoke lowly so only you could hear.
Elladan watched as your eyes seemed to be captured by him. You watched as he walked up the marble staircase leading to Elrond before turning back to him, “Prince?” You attempted to bite back the discontent at that one word for you would never have a chance with someone of such stature.
He nodded slowly, “As I remember. It has been a few hundred years since we have had an actual conversation. King Thranduil has Legolas all over middle earth bidding for Mirkwood.”
“Very well.” Turning your attention back to the woodland elf your eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets seeing that he was staring right at you. A soft smile graced his lips as he caught your eye. He had far more courage than you as you turned back to Elladan swiftly with an evident burning on your cheeks.
He snickered softly knowing that every single one of them could hear if he laughed or talked any louder. You elbowed his side trying to get him to quiet down. The last thing you wanted was even more attention on your party of two. Lord Elrond had asked you and his son, Elladan, to receive the guests of the Council of Elrond as they arrived.
You had been taken in by Elrond and his family after your mother and father were called to the sea nearly a thousand years ago. You were a relatively young elf, just over five hundred years old, when your parents had decided it was their time to go.
You had tried to assure them that you would be just fine being alone. You were young but you were still an adult. They wouldn’t go until they knew you’d be taken care of as you didn’t have any siblings to lean on. Your closest kin resided in Lothlorien, a place you had no desire to go even though they begged. But Rivendell was your home, and you had no desire to leave it behind.
Celebrian had always wanted more children but could bare no more. She had heard of your parents predicament from her many visits throughout the city. See, most elves were natural gossips, so it was not even like she had to ask for it. It was just given to her. So, she decided it was time for her to act on it. It felt natural for her to take you in with her, Elrond, and the children. Then she met you and just knew you would fit right in with their family. You were moved into their home no longer than a month later and your parents had set sail the very next one.
No ill will was held toward your parents. You could only imagine how long their lives had been as they had only told you the bits they wished to divulge. They had decided to have you late in life. After nearly four thousand years. They had no plans on leaving you that soon, but the call was so strong they could no longer ignore it for the Valar had its reasons. It was a great sacrifice to stay is middle earth when the sea was calling so longingly. You could no longer be selfish as you were plenty capable of living on your own. Being taken in by Elrond and his family was a gift upon itself, you’d flourished under their eye. You had nearly mastered the art of healing in the one thousand years you’d been under his instruction.
After your parents left, not a hundred years later Celebrian had found the same calling. It broke your heart all over again watching Elrond and his children, your dear friends, let go of their wife and mother. You had almost felt guilty thinking your parents departure had something to do with hers. The calling must have been strong if she was willing to leave her entire family behind. You had thought maybe they would cast you aside now the Celebrian, the one who had wanted you the most, had gone. The opposite was true though. They held onto you stronger than ever before. Sooner, they were more your family than your own. Later, you’d lived with them longer than your parents. New memories with Elrond, Arwen, Elrohir, and Elladan began to overtake those of with your parents.
“Prince Legolas.” Lord Elrond’s voice brought your eyes back to the top of the stairs instead of at Elladan, “Rivendell is most welcome to host your visit for the Council of Elrond.” On cue you bowed to the revered prince. You’d heard nothing but good things of him. Nobody spoke of how handsome he was though. Striking in the best ways. You should have known he would be of that stature after seeing his father, King Thranduil in passing once. That as an intimidating elf if you had ever of seen one.
“Hir nin (my lord).” Legolas bowed back to him, “It is always most welcome to visit Rivendell.” To your horror he looked right at you before continuing loud enough for all to hear, “I have met your son, Elladan. Who might the lady be?”
Your face must have been aflame by now with all the attention keyed in right on you, “Ah, that is my youngest daughter. Lady Y/N.” You’d so rarely been referred to as his daughter it had caught you off guard. For whom else might you be? Everybody in Rivendell knew of your status why should he not claim you for his own? He had known you and cared for you well-being longer than your very own parents had.
He smiled hearing your name on the Lord’s lips, “Youngest daughter? Have I been so distant I did not know you had another daughter?”
Elrond smiled looking over to you. Trying your very best to remain stoic you were sure your father could see right through it, “My daughter has been mastering the craft of healing.” He turned back to Legolas before muttering something in his ears that he did not let you hear no matter how hard you strained to. Maybe Elladan caught it but he just shook his head at you as you looked over to him.
Legolas turned giving you another bright smile. He bowed right at you before walking over, “It is a pleasure, Lady Y/N.” He was much bolder than all the ellon you had met in Rivendell.
You let out a strangled cough. One that your brother knew was one of sheer panic. He let out another chuckle which meant another elbow was sent right to his ribs, “All the same Prince Legolas.”
His smile was something you had rarely seen in an elf. It was so pure. One that made you want to smile right along with him. What was it? What with you? Why was this ellon making you act like a fool? You needed to get it together and quick. Elrond would see right through your little coy act. He was far from dumb. Perhaps the opposite. He was the smartest elf you had ever met. It was impossible to try and get a leg up on him as he was already ten steps ahead.
“Legolas is fine, Lady Y/N.”
You nodded quickly, “Then I must insist, Y/N is fine as well.”
“Indeed, it is. Y/N.” He spoke to you before turning his eyes towards your brother behind you, “Elladan. It is nice to see you once more. I trust Elrohir is faring well?”
“He is well, Legolas. He is away seeing to personal matters in Minas Tirith at the moment or else he would be here.” Elladan turned serious as the prince’s eyes were on him now.
“That is not a worry. It is good to hear he is doing well. Elladan. Y/N.” He bowed to you once more before turning and walking back to Elrond, clapping him on the back like they were old friends. You were sure they actually were. You’d never been privy to life outside of Rivendell. You’d also never really cared. You never needed to. Not until things started turning dark. Suddenly you had to care about everywhere but Rivendell. Elrond sent you on small quests at first. Then longer and harder ones. You had no idea what he had planned next, but you were sure it was going to be big considering what was happening with Sauron. He tried to keep it quiet, but you heard whispers. It was an impossible darkness to hide.
The next few days went the same as the last. You’d received a few humans from Gondor, Boromir, and his crew. He was as funny a human as you had ever met and crass as ever. You quite enjoyed him. Next up were the dwarves and the harsh stares you received from Gimli and his kin. The dwarves were no fans of your elven kind. You had already met Strider and the four Hobbits to which you had taken quite the liking to towards as well. You’d never received so many different people and creatures from across middle earth and you were having a wonderful time. Elrond had suspended your studies while the council was in session leaving you to wander during the daytime on your own free will.
You had taken to shooting your bow trying to get in as many reps before all out war commenced. Elrond would never admit it, but it was coming. You could sense it. Things had never been so cold and dark as long as you had been in middle-earth. Lord Elrond had all but admitted it had not been this bad since Sauron came around the first-time thousands of years ago.
Being wrapped up in your thoughts your senses had betrayed you. The Prince of Mirkwood had snuck up on you. A usually impossible task that was easier as you had been distracted by your very own thoughts, “Raise your arm a little.” He spoke from beside you. Letting the breath, you’d been holding in out you turned to him lowering your bow in the process.
“Legolas. What are you doing here?” He was indeed the last person you had expected to see. He had been locked in your fathers study for the better part of the week. He was a part of the strategizing crowd not even your brothers were privy to. Elrond had done a masterful job of hiding his children away. He had no desire to put you in harm’s way on the front lines. But even as he tried he could no longer hold you back.
He shrugged giving you the eye as your bow was still loaded in your hand. You pulled the arrow into the quiver connected at your hip in a hurry before slinging the bow itself over your shoulder, “Needed some time away. Things were getting a little personal in there.” He smiled but it wasn’t the bright smile you’d seen on his face prior. It had been dulled.
“So, you come to the practice range?” You asked curiously. Knowing so little of the elf you knew you were digging for something hoping he would give you a little more.
“Exactly, my lady.” He grinned holding his hand out for your bow.
“Y/N.” You corrected him not liking how that sounded. Far too mature for your stature.
He gave you a lazy smile, “That is right. Exactly, Y/N.” He kept his hand out waiting for you to hand him the bow. Slowly you pulled it off you back and handed it to him. To your surprise he started inspecting it. You’d felt terribly self-conscious as you had crafted it far too quickly. It was just your practice bow after all and it was one of your first attempts.
“This is lovely.” He grinned over at you as he held his other hand for your arrows. To which you gave him as you were now far too curious to see how this prince would do. He was nothing short of a whispered fear around Rivendell. The stories your brothers have told of him made you far too curious of the blue-eyed elf.
“That is a lie.” You laughed.
He shook his head, “It is fine work. I, myself, could hardly do better.” You watched as his hands traced your woodworking. You were not overly proud of the piece. In fact, you’d all but thrown it away finding yourself frustrated at not being able to carve in the finer details as you had planned. Eventually, after a few too many attempts you’d succeeded at getting the right shape but gave up on the detail.
“Are you trying to flatter me?” You questioned letting him know it was you who had made the bow.
He looked over at you curiously, “Did you make this?” Asking as if he didn’t quite believe you he waited for your response.
“I did indeed.”
He looked you over once more before trying the bow out himself. You’d heard of how good he was, but it was hard to believe until you had seen it. In a matter of seconds, he had not only shot all of your arrows but had placed them perfectly around your target. It was more than impressive. Wood elves were known for their skills with the bow, but this was nothing like you had ever seen. Not even your bow master could keep up with something like this.
He turned back to you with an even bigger smile on his face, “It shoots even better than it looks! You have a talent.”
You gawked at him without so much as a care of how dumb you looked, “You just shot like that, and you are saying that I have the talent?”
“Aye.” He set the bow down before heading over to retrieve the arrows. He looked back waiting for you to follow, “This would not be possible if your work was not as balanced as it is. I must ask you to make my next bow. I will pay you handsomely for your work.” He spoke as if money was the issue with his request.
“Oh!” Your cheeks were surely there usual fiery hot selves as they usually were when Legolas had come around, “I hardly doubt I could make…”
He shook his head cutting you off, “You must not doubt yourself. I would not ask you to if I did not think you could.”
You nodded knowing there was no actual point in arguing with him. He was as stubborn as you were and nobody was going to win the fight that was surely going to ensue, “All right then. I will make you a bow. On one condition.”
“And that condition is?” His smile only seemed to grow as he talked to you. It’s infectiousness wearing off right on you for how could you not grin when he was smiling at you like that?
“You do not pay me. Let me make it for you as a friend?”
He nodded, “That is a condition I can accept. As long as you let me return the favor?”
You giggled feeling his eyes wash over yours in bliss at your reaction, “You cannot give me a condition for my very own condition!”
“Please?” He asked with such a softness you could only nod at him.
“You may return the favorite, mellon nin.”
The two of you had spent the better part of the afternoon chatting, laughing, and avoiding the reality of the situation of the world at present. You had one of the best afternoons you probably ever have had in this lifetime goofing around with the prince. He was certainly not the ellon you’d expected. He had become more than you could have ever had imagined and more.
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It did not take long for you to fall for the prince. After Elrond had volunteered you for The Fellowship you had grown close to him. About halfway through the journey, after Pippin and Merry had been taken and you’d been running for days is when you knew. That was when you knew you had feelings for the elf. The signs had always been there, but it was his constant care and checking up to make sure that you were all right that made you realize where your heart had actually lied with the elven prince.
It was decidedly not a good position to be in. He could never be with you. The king would never approve. You would be left longing and loving for an elf who was strictly off limits. The journey to Mordor had been nothing short of rough. You were constantly amazed and astonished at Gimli and Aragorn keeping up, the Hobbits trail, the wizard coming back. It was almost too much too believe. When Aragorn rose from the dead in Helm’s Deep you could not believe it. That was why you had decided to fight. For him and middle earth.
“What are you doing?” Legolas looked at you desperately as you placed the chain-link guard around your torso.
“Preparing.” You spoke matter of factly not noticing Gimli behind him.
“For what?” He asked. For what? Was he mad? Playing dumb surely.
The look on your face let him know you were not playing, “The battle, Legolas. I will not let you all go out there without me. Not once more while I sit behind. I am more than ready and far more than prepared.”
“You will not. I will not have you go out there. You must stay back and tend to the wounded. Your skills are needed here!” For the first time Legolas sounded frantic. Out of control. Worried as if he knew you would go against his wishes. He was right, of course. Legolas had gotten to know you well over the course of the journey from Rivendell. He’d learned of your ticks and habits. Your nature and goodwill. How your morals had outweighed your better judgment for yourself. He’d learned why Elrond had hidden you for so long. You’d be a danger onto yourself more so than he could protect you.
You shook your head slowly, “My skills are needed in the battle and even you know that ernil nin (my prince).” Looking down you were almost afraid to look into his eyes at this moment.
He walked up to you before whispering a low, “We are not done discussing this, mellon nin.” Though his words were kind his tone was off. You gulped. But before you could even open your eyes the prince had stormed off. Likely to cool down. He’d made it clear he didn’t want you anywhere near the field yet here you were doing everything he wished you wouldn’t do.
When you finally looked up you saw the cheeky smirk of the red-haired dwarf staring right at you, “Gimli.” You bowed, “How long have you been standing there master dwarf?”
“The entire time.” He confirmed, “You have given our favorite elf quite the scare.”
You eyed him knowing that he was digging and pressing for something, “He will come to his senses.”
“Or you must come to yours.” He countered with a wicked smile. One that made you feel like you were missing out on something.
“What is that supposed to mean Gimli?”
He gruffed at you, “You cannot be that blind! I was lead to believe elves have some weird, enhanced vision or something.”
“There is no need to be so hostile young dwarf.” You smiled at Gimli letting him know you were surely playing along with him even though you were clueless to what he was actually insinuating, “I unfortunately do not know what you are attempting to tell me though.”
He shook his head with a swift movement, “The Prince of Mirkwood has feelings for you lassie.”
Simply blinking your eyes, you surely could not have heard him correctly, “Has feelings?”
He rolled his eyes, “Aye... are you going to make me come outright with it then?”
You nodded, "I am indeed. Elves are blunt and I am unfortunately very oblivious.” You smile only grew as he huffed and puffed almost looking embarrassed to have to say it out loud.
“The Prince of Mirkwood likes you lassie. He will not stop bringing you up whenever you are not around. He is driving me mad. Gold sickness isn’t even this bad.” As your cheeks grew a blush so did Gimli’s.
It was obviously all in good fun to tease him but what he had actually said struck a chord within you. How was that possible? He was actual royalty. You were a commoner for all intents and purposes, “He cannot.” You said not letting your hopes rise for you had liked Legolas deeply. From the moment your eyes laid upon him in your home all those days ago. What an adventure you had been on as you trekked across middle earth with the ellon you may have loved.
“Oi lassie! He can and he does. Did you not just see his reaction to you going into this battle?”
You shook your head, “Well, yeah but…”
“No. He likes you. Very much so. Drones on and on about how pretty you are. How smart you are. How sweet you are. It is exhausting Y/N.” Gimli dramatically sat down on the bench near the wall.
“I should be offended you find talking about me so exhausting master Gimli.” You raised your brows to challenge him as you sat down next to him.
“Nary the case my lady. It has been months you see. And he will not say a thing to you. Months of it lassie! You are lovely. He would be quite lucky to have you. I am simply tired. He will not listen to me. That is why I am telling you this now.” You only gave you a smirk as he leaned his head against the wall.
“Months is not a long time for an elf.” You giggled knowing how much it would set the poor dwarf off. He was almost too easy to poke and prod at. A simple action would result in an explosive reaction out of him.
He eyes lowered in on yours, “Insufferable. The both of ya. Truly meant for him aren’t you?” He got up before giving you a quick bow, “I will see you on the battlefield my lady.”
“I’ll beat both of you this time.” You grinned trying to lighten the darkening mood taking over Helm’s Deep. Time was of the essence now.
“You will not!” He boomed, “I will kill the most orcs!” He walked out of the room before you could object. With a deep breath you finished putting on the chain link armour. You’d wished Elrond would have prepped you a little more as you sheathed your sword. You could do this. You absolutely had to do this. You had to tell Legolas you liked him back. It was rare, to feel the connection you’d felt with him. Truly, time was of the essence.
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You had lost him early on in the battle. You were holding Legolas’s hand before you had to dodge away from an axe being thrown. From there on out it was you and yourself against too many orcs to count. Terror began to consume you as you fell back in the crowd of men and elves. But you could do this. You had to do this. Legolas liked you! You could have a life with the most handsome ellon you had ever laid your eyes upon. You just had to kill every single disgusting orc around you. Easy. You could do it. For Legolas. For you. For a life you craved.
You hadn’t a clue what overcame you as you fought and fought for hours. You witnessed more death than you ever had in your life as the never-ending siege kept ticking on. You fell back and fought. Fell back and fought. Fight or die. Fight to live on with Legolas. You tried to search for his golden hair as you fought but begrudgingly came up short time and time again. It was only when dawn broke with Gandalf and the Rohirrim showing up did you feel a twinge of hope as the orcs turned to them instead of charging on into Helm’s Deep. You stood on guard as the Rohirrim charged on. It felt like you would collapse from the relief seeing the help pour in. Emotion truly overtook you as you saw that flash of golden hair on the war horse down the bridge. Legolas was alive and well. It was going to be okay. You were going to get to tell him that you liked him.
You watched in awe as the orc army was slain. Some tried to run but were devoured by the very forests that once protected them. Sheathing your sword and throwing your bow over your shoulder you found your way back to the dining hall turned emergency healing ward knowing they would need all they help they could get. You had a lifetime to tell Legolas how you felt, the men and defenders of Helm’s Deep needed you more now.
Despite your own cuts that were too deep to heal quickly you pressed on. Throwing some bandages on the worse ones you rolled up your sleeves and got to work. You were in your element as you ordered people around as efficiently as possible and got to as many men as you could.
But that voice broke your stupor. It always would, “You must give yourself a break.” Legolas. He had found you faster than you would have thought.
You spun around on your heal after patching the man up, “I am fine. These men and elves are not.” Holding out your hand you showed him the growing number of beds that were becoming occupied from small wounds to life threatening ones.
He shook his head agreeing with you, “I know I will not change your mind. But please rest when this is all over?”
You bit back the smile. Ever since you met him he had cared for your wellbeing more than you did, “You have my word.”
He gave you a once over with a frown and concern in his own eyes, “Will you also see a healer when you are done?”
“I am fine Legolas.” You persisted shaking your head before heading to the bed next to the man you’d patched up.
He was hot on your heals not believing you for a second, “You are bleeding through your bandages, mellon nin. Please?” Gimli’s words rang through you as he looked at you wish nothing but pain and concern.
“All right.” You weren’t sure what else to say as you looked over him in return. You really should see a healer but your wounds just felt so miniscule compared to the horror you were seeing now.
He eyed you looking for any lie, “I will check on you tonight to see sure of it.”
“I told you that I would, do you not believe me?” A smile rose to your face as you knew your words took him aback.
“You are stubborn. You will work until you collapse. Of course, I trust you. But I do not trust that you will see through to it.” He grinned seeing your expression clock what he was saying, “I will check in on you tonight in your room. How does that sound?” He tried again asking as if it were a question as you knew it was not. Legolas would be checking in on you whether you agreed with him or not.
He was giving you a chance now. You had to take it, “I will see you tonight.”
He gave you a quick bow before making way towards the door, “Please see a healer soon. And rest.”
“I will. Do not fret Legolas. My help is needed first.”
He nodded, “They are fortunate to have you.” He walked off before you could get another word in. You shook your head getting yourself back in the right headspace to see and heal the gruesome wounds left by the attack.
You kept true to your word as your own energy was depleting rapidly. As soon as the bodies stopped flowing in and you became overly exhausted you finally saw another elven healer who pulled the orc poison from your open wounds and patched you up. Legolas was right, a few too many orc blades had made it impossible for your body to heal them as quickly as it usually would.
You had only been settled in your room after bathing and changing for a few moments before a familiar knock rang out at the door. You had been given a room near the kings chambers for the time being as you were the only female in the company. And who were you to turn down such a luxury after months on the road? Certainly not you.
You opened the door to the smiling elf. He quite literally took your breath away. He was so handsome, “Legolas.”
His eyes traced you overlooking for any signs that you had not in fact taken care of yourself, “You look well.”
You moved to the side to let him know it was okay if he wanted to come in, “I am.”
He sighed bringing your eyes to look into his, “I was so worried when I lost you. I had broken my promise to you.”
All you could think to do was grab for his hand. A small sign of comfort as your laced your fingers into his, “It is not your fault Legolas. You know this. We would have both been struck had I not jumped away.” Giving his hand a soft squeeze, you pulled him in through the door. You didn’t want the prying ears of the company or some random elves hearing the conversation if you could stop it. You knew it was getting vulnerable fast. The adrenaline from the battle had long worn off leaving the raw emotion of what just happened to linger.
He looked down at your fingers intertwining his, “I was so afraid that I… I kept looking for you as the battle wore on but could not find you, I feared…” He could not say the words that kept binding on his tongue as it scared him the most. From the moment he laid eyes on you in Rivendell he too felt that pull you had felt so strongly that same day. He’d lived a couple thousand years and had never seen any ellith quite so striking as you. Legolas had been convinced he would never find the elf he was destined to love.
“I am here. I am alive.” You gave his hand another comforting squeeze you just looked at him. He was closer than he’d been before. The air between the two of you felt electrified as you looked up into his eyes. His blue ones met your own. The concern gave way to the happiness of the first part of this hell being over. As Gandalf had said. The Battle of Helm’s Deep was won but the War for Middle Earth had just begun.
His eyes met your smooth hair, fresh out of the baths, “You have no braids in?” He could not recall a time he had not seen braids laced throughout your hair. He had not known you for a long time, but it seemed jarring to see you without them.
You nodded, “You are correct. This is the first time I’ve had a comb since Rivendell.” You paused unsure of if you wanted to ask the next question or not. It was now or never really. Gimli had assured you he had felt the same, why would he lie?
He spoke before you could ask your question, “I must admit, I am envious.” He tried running a hand through his long, usually silky, hair that had been tangled in the battle.
“You can borrow mine.” You offered up without a second thought, “And uh…” You stopped once more having a hard time getting it out. It was now or never. You’d fought that hard for this. Why was it so hard to spit out?
“What is it?” He nodded, encouraging you along.
You closed your eyes, letting out a long breath, trying your hardest to regain some composure. His hand felt like it was burning in your palm as you decided you just needed to spit it out, “Do you… Would you like to braid it?”
Your ears were trained to pick up upon the slight falter in his breath, you’d managed to take him by surprise for once, “Are you sure? Are you asking me what I believe you are to be asking me?” He looked at you with a gentle desperation you had yet to see on his face before.
“Legolas.” You tried stopping him, but he just continued. Spiraling.
“I, of course, would gladly accept but I need to know if these are your intentions. If what you are asking is true.” He looked concerned that you might not be telling him exactly what he was wishing you were saying.
“Legolas!” You pulled your hand away from his before grasping onto his shoulders above you.
He stopped finally hearing you, “Yeah?”
“I like you. Quite a lot. More than a fellowship member probably should. And Gimli might have told me you were driving him a tad mad at all the mentions of me throughout the months.” Your smile grew as you saw his expression drop into shock. You had decided it was fun to surprise the Prince of Mirkwood. His face was the most precious you had seen it yet as it went through the uncommon emotion of being surprised.
“That dreadful dwarf! He promised he would not tell.” For the second time in a short period, you had seen Legolas in a panicked state. Legolas was best with everything under his control. You had often thrown his plans under fire when you came into the picture though. So often before he would be annoyed but he welcomed it with you.
“Him telling me that got me through it all. If he had not told me you had feelings for me I do not think I would have made it out alive. I was fighting for us. For a future with both of us in it. I know exactly what I am asking you for when I asked you to braid my hair.” You spoke freely for the first time in a while. It had been hard keeping the feelings you felt for him locked down and hidden away as you travelled with the fellowship.
He grinned taking your hand in his this time. He led you to the chair at the desk in the room and had you sit. He stood behind you as he brushed his hands through your hair slowly. You tried you best to fight the shiver and chills that erupted at his touch, “I am honored you asked me to braid you hair. If it was not obvious before, I do feel the same. My dwarf friend seemed to want to tell you that before I could.”
You laughed softly relishing in his touch, “We should thank him. Who knew how much longer we would have pined from afar.”
“I do not wish to give him credit. His head will grow too large.” His nimble hands began braiding small intricate braids in your hair. He’d decided he was going to take his time and make the perfect braid he had never had the patience to do before.
Giggles erupted from you at that. Watching Gimli warm up to both you and Legolas to eventually turning into one of your closest companions had been one of the most unexpected twists from the journey, “It does not feel right picking on him when he isn’t here to blow up on one of us. It is not as fun.”
You could see the grin on his face through the reflection in the mirror above you, “Enough about the dwarf. How are you? Truly?”
You closed your eyes thinking about his question, “I am tired and growing more nervous the closer we get.” It was the first time you had admitted it out loud and it felt good getting it off your chest.
He tied an elastic on the last large braid he laid down the center of your hair before letting his hands fall to your shoulders. Just the touch provided a comfort you weren’t sure you could express adequately, “I am keeping my promise. Nothing will happen to you. I will protect you through this. I promise you that.”
You turned your neck to look up towards him, “Thank you. For everything. And the braids.” You ran your hand along his work all too curious to see what it had actually looked like.
He brushed a hand along your cheek, “It is my honor. I should be the one thanking you. You look beautiful as always.”
Relishing in his touch you pushed your face into his hand, “Let’s not tell the rest of them until after this is all over.”
Legolas gave you a hesitant look, “We can try. Gimli will know immediately, and he does not have the quietest tongue.”
“Aye that is true. We shall try then.”
He knelt down to your level so that his eyes were staring right back at you, “Yes we shall. Now come, we must have some dinner and get some rest.” He held his hand out to you after he stood, not giving you another option knowing you would rather just jump into bed and snooze the night away. But Legolas being exactly who he was had made a promise to your father and he would protect you. And now he got the privilege of loving you too. He had no plans of losing this after he had prayed for it for so long.
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How Miriel and Finwe met
Finwe’s mama: here, Miriel and Thranduil are going to look after you while i go hunting.
Bby Finwe, hiding behind his mama’s leg: *shaking head* No! Don’t wanna!
Miriel, knealing down: hey, it’ll be ok! You’ll see your mama in no time!
Finwe: *peeks around his mama’s legs*
Finwe: *sees Miriel* *blushes bright red* p-pretty
Miriel: thank you!
Finwe: *blushes even more*
Miriel, getting kinda concerned now: ahh, are you ok? You aren’t sick are you? *puts hand on finwe’s forhead to check the temperature*
Finwe: *a fucking tomato at this point**passes out*
Miriel: aAAAAHHHHHHHH THRANDUIL, COME QUICK! I THINK I ACCIDENTALLY KILLED A CHILD!!!
Bonus:
Thranduil, holding his daughter while the other -we’s are hanging off him, sees the crush finwe has on Miriel: *i’m gonna yeet the child* MIRIEL STOP SCREAMING, he’ll live.
Thranduil, mumbling: unfortunately.
Miriel: what was that?
Thranduil: please help me with these demons.
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two-white-butterflies · 3 months
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house of the dragons masterlist
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Daemon Targaryen
We Raise Our Cups to Them - Daemon gifts you a necklace.
The Last Dragon - You thought that you were the last dragon. That was until you met him.
You Taste Like Wine - The story of how Daemon gained his thorns. (Tyrell!Reader) ➺ pt.2
A Little Life - Short drabble on Daemon and your son.
Wanton Desires - Daemon speaks to his wife while you give him head.
Orange and Tangerines - You and Daemon visit a brothel.
Ingenue - Daemon falls in love with a wolf. ➺ part two. (Stark!Reader) 
in the land of gods and monsters - You were the Queen, but you loved the prince. (Tyrell!Reader)
A Heaven I Can’t Reach - You were left by the Rogue Prince. You find out that you are pregnant, and he returns.
The Prince of Flea-Bottom - (Hightower!Reader)
Ghost of You - Your soul consumes Daemon with avarice.
Fuck the Rich. Fucks the Rich. - Threesome with Harwin.
Maroon -  It is the night of your wedding, and instead of making love. You both decide on playing chess.
Anti-Hero - You are the first-daughter of Viserys and Aemma, as she realizes what war is about to begin. She marries her uncle.
Midnight Rain - You used to be Daemon Targaryen’s fiancee, until he is forced to marry Laena Velaryon. You fall in love with Aemond. years later, Daemon returns.
Labyrinth - The reader is the daughter of Viserys and Alicent. Daemon almost gets the entire court high with weed brownies. The reader spreads a malicious rumor about Daemon.
Poison From the Same Vine - (Hightower!Reader)
Bigger than the Whole Sky - You become a glorified hostage for the Blacks. Your husband refuses to show his love. (Hightower!Reader)
The Smallest Coffins are the Heaviest - Daemon comforts you after a miscarriage.
Arms Length - Daemon swears to corrupt you. ➺ part two ➺ part three
Mob Wife - mafia au
White Sword - angst with smut.
The Sun Rises from the West - angst poc!reader
i’m a m*therfucking starboy - you meet the infamous prince of dragonstone. [enemies to lovers trope]
fence - he’s your dad’s best friend.
therese ➺milk matches her underwear ➺horses, cars and cowboys do  - in where, your private life becomes public. [secret relationship trope]
two white butterflies ➺ how to disappear ➺ miss american pie - daemon begins dating a singer who hates the spotlight.
i shouldn’t cry - prince daemon in love with a rich girl.
false god - you are forced to choose between family and ambition.
Fresh Out The Slammer - daemon targaryen always found himself running to you after his failed marriages.
good riddance - daemon is forced to choose between love and duty.
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Viserys I and Aemond Targaryen
His Real Ambition - being a matriarch to a family was has hard, watching the love of your life marry someone else is harder.
in the land of gods and monsters - You were the Queen, but you loved the prince. (Tyrell!Reader)
Midnight Rain - You used to be Daemon Targaryen’s fiancee, until he is forced to marry Laena Velaryon. You fall in love with Aemond. years later, Daemon returns.
The Alcott - You are Rhaenyra’s oldest daughter. You meet your uncle in Winterfell, and you heart feels like jumping off your chest. 
Peaches - your stepson’s swimming instructor can’t stop staring at your ass. introducing, jealous aemond. | mafia au 
Let the light in - you fall for your father’s right hand man | mafia au 
This is me trying - a late night phone call after your team falls short on the podium. aemond comforts you, and provides you some comforting. some phone loving.
Fucking in my BMW Sedan - exactly what the title states.
I want your heart - vampire aemond
the winner takes it all - you are engaged to another. (angst)
my way, back home - aemond wants to have a big family.
A Man Who Knows - (angst)
Hands of Gold - Aemond meets an older woman. (smut)
Thranduil as Aemond's Dad - (headcanon)
Aemond Reacting to You Wanting to Break Up with him - (headcanon)
you’re losing me - after a gruesome breakup with jace - his billionaire uncle offers you a proposal that you can’t resist. [fake dating trope]
illicit affairs - it was forbidden to date a man like him. but still, you choose to fall. [cheating trope]
cats and dogs - you meet him in the animal shelter. 
emma falls in love - fake dating trope for taylor swift tickets.
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Rhaenyra, Helaena and Aegon Targaryen
me and the devil - rhaenyra targaryen seduces otto hightower.
exotic flower - rhaenyra garden date. 
don’t you - you meet your ex-girlfriend in a party while wrapped around the arm of your brand new fling. a fight begins. messy sex.
Wanting Was Enough - Aegon falls for his father's caretaker.
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extended masterlist
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dontfearrr · 3 months
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Best friends father
Heavily based on best friends brother from victorious lmfao. But this is a very funny request that you can find here
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(gif not mine:)
Pairing: Thranduil x Elf!reader
Summary: Legolas and Thranduil have no idea of each others roles in your life
Warnings: none
Category: fluff, fluff, and more fluff
Word count: 1.6k
----------------------
Twisting branches hovered high above her and all around her, whistles of the wind through the trees lingered through her ears like an eerie song sung just for her. She glanced around the path, knowing he was out there somewhere, he played this game with her all the time. However this time she was determined to win it. She felt chills crawl up her spine and she nocked an arrow in the blink of an eye, turning her body and releasing the arrow further up.
He felt the brush of the arrow graze his arm and he knew she had won. He swung from branch to branch and landed in front of her on his two feet, she watched his hair fall down back into place perfectly and she giggled, crossing her arms. “You know what, I'll give that one to you. I'm impressed.” He swung his bow back over his shoulder.
“Legolas it is quite rude to underestimate a lady” She told the white haired elf who stared down at her in amusement. “Sorry…if i'm not mistaken, i've won every single time, until now. So I think it was fair” Legolas joked back, only poking at you playfully.
She’d known Legolas for a good thousand years by now, they met during a trading with Imladris and since then they were glued together at the hip. Best friends some would say but if you asked her, she'd tell you he's some silly dumb ass who doesn't know how to handle his elven wine. 
“You just insist on making sure i know you're better than me.'' She gave him a playful eyeroll and began their walk back to the main palace, knowing they both have duties to tend to. “I assume once we return you'll be going off with your mystery lover?” Legolas teased, knowing lately she'd been quite infatuated and busied with her new asset. He was glad she had finally found someone in her life, he felt like a proud brother. (the irony im so sorry)
“You'd be correct, elf boy. Hopefully he's feeling extra nice today..” She teased, knowing Legolas hated hearing the descriptive details of their relationship. 
Legolas groaned in agony and shook his head at her suggestive and very unnecessary comment. “I have never met a more interesting creature.” He used his index finger to push at her shoulder jokingly as they approached the main gates. She gave him a playful smile and chuckled to herself as the guards let them into the kingdom.
“Farewell my friend, late nightfall?” Legolas spoke as he began to walk in the opposite direction of her, waiting for her reply before he turned around. 
“Late nightfall it is! Don't miss me too much!” 
She bowed to him dramatically and watched him turn around and walk off, she did the same. Only she waited until he was completely out of her sight before she began walking to the palace, her head facing the ground to hide from onlookers. Not that it necessarily mattered, however she wouldn't appreciate it if someone decided to gossip to the prince of her private whereabouts. She made her way down the main hall to the throne room, the guards allowing her through with the command of the king. 
She saw him perched upon his beautiful throne, his autumn crown complimenting his head and his blinding white hair fell down his shoulders perfectly, not one hair out of place. He was always a sight to see no matter how many times she'd see him. 
He caught her scent long before she even entered the throne room, his head positioned downward at the elf that approached him, her sweet presence instantly making his whole body relax from its usual tense state.
 “It is more than a pleasure to see you here, for I have missed you dearly.” his deep voice boomed throughout the entire room as he stood up and began descending from the stairs to meet her at the bottom.
 “It was like trying to swat a fly from your drink trying to get rid of him” she chuckled and met him halfway, looking up at him while his arms wrapped around her waist tenderly, pulling her flush against his body in a warm embrace. He ran a hand down the back of her head, smoothing down her hair as he placed a kiss on her forehead. “He seems persistent” he said, a bit jealous of her other companion no matter how many times she would reassure him it's not like that, nor will it ever be.
She just gave him a feigned look of annoyance and brought a hand up to place on his cheek, her thumb caressing his cheekbone gently. “My dear Thranduil, soon you will see the silliness of your jealousy.” she teased him, knowing he hated being called out on his feelings. “Do you insist on making me miserable, my lady?” He gave her a heartfelt smile and placed a hand on her back, gesturing for her to go to the private doors, doors which only the king and prince were allowed to use. They were passages that lead to everything, just quicker and more discrete. 
Every day, Thranduil took her to a new place, slowly showing her every beauty Mirkwood had to offer. His love for her grew every day and only made him want to do anything for her, anything he could. Today he was taking her to the Amaranthine Garden, the specific flora only visible to the royals. He was sure you'd love it for it is one of the few ethereal gardens amongst the elves.
Legolas was speaking with a royal guard, telling them about this morning’s duties, sending him off to go inform the rest. Right before he was about to walk back to the main quarters he was stopped by a messenger who handed him an envelope, he looked on the back seeing it was addressed to Thranduil. He cursed these damned messengers for not just giving it directly to his father, that was something he would also discuss with his father when he gave this to him.
He entered the throne room and found it empty..how strange. He never left his throne around these times unless it was severely important. He searched the room a bit and even called out for him but there was silence. That was until he spotted the private corridors left cracked. He could see the light emitting from the small opening of the door and approached it, he opened it fully but saw no one. Yet he got a whiff of a very familiar scent mixed with his fathers. It made him a little uncomfortable, he was determined to get to the bottom of this, something was up. So down the halls he went, peeking inside every single room, basically sniffing his father out like a dog.
She had her hand around his back and her body pressed into his side while he held her close, showing her the garden and telling her all about the unique plants she'd never seen before. There wasn't a second of this moment where she didn't have a smile on her face as her beloved spoke so gently. 
Thranduil bent down at his knees and carefully picked a beautiful bunch of Rhododendrons, pulling a thread from his pocket and tying the flowers at the stem, holding it out for her. She felt like a princess when she was with him, he treated her with the utmost respect. She took the flowers from him and smiled kindly. “Thranduil you never fail to put a smile on my face, you know that?” She set the flowers in her satchel and placed her hands on his chest.
“I live and breathe to please you meleth nin. I thought it was quite obvious.”
She giggled at this and felt his hands sneak to her waist, caressing her like a teenage boy, until his head snapped in the direction of the door that led back inside. 
“What is my sweet?” she looked at him with quite the confused look until she heard a voice all too familiar.
“Well if it isnt y/n and her mystery lover.” Legolas stood before them with his arms crossed as if he just caught a child sneaking into the cookie jar. 
Her head fell to Thranduil's chest in defeat, knowing she'd been caught red handed. Thranduil however was utterly confused, he hadn't put the pieces together just yet. Legolas approached them and she pulled from Thranduil, meeting Legolas in front of them. She sighed and placed a hand on Legolas’ shoulder. “To be completely fair, you see why i didn't tell you” she joked and looked up to Thranduil. 
“Meet the best friend.” she spoke sheepishly with a weak smile and Thranduil just simply sighed in utter annoyance at this childish situation. “So you were able to keep both of our identities secret from each other, and this is how we find out? You never fail to surprise me little one” He placed a hand on her lower back and gave Legolas an unimpressed look. 
“I think you might find yourself with an arrow in your chest while you sleep tonight” Legolas playfully threatened. “That's if you wish to go blind, you'll find me cosying up with your father in a not so friendly manner.” She shot back, earning a chuckle from Thranduil and a gag from Legolas.
 “I curse you woman.” Legolas turned around to leave them. “And I curse you father, you'll be lucky if you don't find poison in your wine tonight” He said before leaving dramatically, leaving her and Thranduil to laugh amongst themselves. 
“I think that went great!” she tried weakly as Thranduil simply shook his head and continued their walk through the garden.
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itsonlydana · 1 month
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"passenger princess" | chapter six
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the hobbit | a modern!AU by itsonlydana
❱ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader
❱ wordcount: 4,9k
❱ summary: a horror movie, 'your dad jokes' and overcoming the fear of being vulnerable by opening up
❱ warnings: mature language
❱ an: we're back on schedule! Anyone got the reference with the documentary?🤭
general m.list + series m.list
🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3
CHAPTER SIX: MOVIE
It was movie night and once again you found yourself sitting on the giant sofa, a glass of wine cradled between your hands as you watched Legolas and Aragorn argue over what to watch.
It was amusing, really, to simply sit back and observe how both completely missed the fact they could be on the same page if they weren't blinded by the urge to please the other.
While Legolas was trying his hardest to convince Aragorn you didn't have to watch another romcom and he would much rather try to understand that one French art film Aragorn studied in his poetry class, the brunette was keen on rewatching Mean Girls for Legolas.
They seemed to have forgotten you were there to be included in the discussion.
Feet burrowed into the cushions under you you sipped on the wine that Thranduil brought out to the pool two days ago.
Every sip brought the scent of sunscreen and the warm rays of sunshine back to you on this rainy evening.
Your gaze trailed to the floor-to-ceiling windows next to the sofa, right outside to where the pool was illuminated by lanterns and laid undisturbed except for the raindrops splattering onto the surface.
Thinking back to that day, you felt a heat creeping into your cheeks that not only came from the wine.
You had no idea what had been the push into the decision but when Thranduil had joined you in the pool, he had joined you. Not just sitting at the edge or watching you from the shadow of the terrace.
He'd come outside and immediately shed himself from his shirt and trousers, leaving you to a close death with every layer of fabric removed and every bit of light skin revealed.
You nearly had a heart attack at the sight of his upper body and the lean muscles you had known were there, but never had the pleasure –and oh, it truly was a fucking pleasure– to see in all their glory.
Thranduils shoulders were broad, yet fit his form and the adonis belt that accentuated his –must be said– slender waist.
The sentiment that no man his age should be allowed to be this good-looking extended to include all men or women no matter the age. It made little sense to you that this man looked like that at his age when you knew full well that he didn't exercise.
He had a body to fantasize about, and you gladly did.
"What do you say?" Aragorn called to you from the other end of the couch, where he was rubbing his temple, "Tell Legolas I really don't mind watching whatever he chooses."
"Oh, you remembered I'm still here?" you asked while Legolas gasped and clicked his tongue in annoyance, "Yes, but you shouldn't not mind, you should enjoy the movie as well!"
"Legolas, I mean it. It's alright if we watch Mean Girls!"
"Woah, pause!" you took another sip and swiped the air with the other hand. "You two have been so insufferable ever since you did it. Can we go back to pining but without all the.. you know, back bending for just a movie?"
It shut them up, maybe they thought you hadn't noticed them sneaking off together or whatever the reason was, you were glad for the momentary silence.
"Let's just do the 'surprise me' thingy and no one will be truly happy, alright?"
No idea when you'd become the voice of reason but both nodded in agreement, sparing shy smiles to each other that said more apologies than Legolas had ever given to you in words, for the evenings you had to watch his choice of movie.
Love could really change a person.
"Fine," Legolas threw his long legs into movement, walked to the cabinets next to the flatscreen, and grabbed the remote. "Next time we–"
"We'll have the same discussion over and over again," Aragorn added.
"You're disgusting," you pretended to gag, heaving your chest for dramatic effect, "Finishing each other's sentences is so cringe."
"Using cringe in a sentence is cringe."
"Shut up and dim the lights, Las. Please down to the level that's in your head, alright?" You smiled angelicly, cheeks hurting from the effort though it was all worth it at Legolas scowl when he tried to fish for a response but ended up silently muttering under his breath and turning the lights off.
Engulfed in near darkness you only saw his lanky figure reach for something on the incliner next to the sofa before a cushion flew toward you with a scarily accuracy.
Wouldn't you have leaned to the side because you wanted to place the glass onto the coffee table, there would've been an accident for sure.
"Legolas you fucking idiot," you swore, already grabbing the cushion that hit your back. "Do you want another wine-stain incident?"
The wine-stain-incident of last year went down in history as the biggest argument this house had ever seen.
Legolas and Thranduil had been arguing like never before, snapping at each other back and forth for days over red wine spilled over the newly bought designer sofa cushions.
It went so far that Legolas camped at your dorm for a whole weekend, clearing out your fridge and complaining that his Ada was up his ass for an accident he didn't even remember.
After three days of coming home from work and seeing Legolas sulk on your bed, the thing that pushed your patience over the edge had been one night when the blonde couldn't sleep and decided that your bed was big enough for him to cuddle you; big surprise: it wasn't.
Nothing was big enough in the tin can of a dorm.
"So what?" Legolas fell onto the sofa next to Aragorn, giving you plenty of space to spread out on your half, "I'm just gonna tell him it was you again. Nothing's gonna happen then."
"You're a wicked man, Las," Aragorn said. Legolas grinned.
You snorted. "Sure, if you want your ass handed to you. Don't think it's going to work twice."
"Oh no, it will." Legolas raised an eyebrow much similar to his father, "Just like last time his anger will go up in the smoke the second he sees you and then–" he cooed in a very over-the-top imitation of Thranduil, "–no no no, it's alright! I hated the sofa anyways.. what? It's new? Doesn't matter, I'll buy a new one, babe."
"He doesn't sound like that and it wasn't like that!" you complained.
It had been exactly like that.
"It kinda was," Aragorn chimed in and received a smile (Legolas) and an angry huff (you).
Legolas tapped away on the remote, lightning up the living room as the flatscreen showed the last thing that had been watched.
Some nature documentary that, in the small second Legolas gave you before opening up the streaming app, seemed to be about whales and crocodiles.
Thranduils taste in movies was everything Legolas didn't enjoy: docus with long biology conversations, silent black and white classics or, his guilty pleasure, fake jury shows where he would point out where they went wrong or how inaccurate the case was.
You adored how he would sit on the sofa wearing his slim glasses and pretend he wasn't interested in the drama at all.
"Alright," Legolas said and pressed a button for the random movie.
"By the way," you said hushed, "He doesn't call me babe. Your father calls me sweetheart or darling, which is completely different and so much more endearing in my opinion."
Aragorn let out a loud breath and leaned over to rub Legolas' shoulder. "Wow, that was basically a 'your mom' joke, although much more eloquent. Hope you're alright."
"He will survive," you waved off, "It's not like I told him how he–"
"No, I actually don't want to hear that!" Legolas interrupted you loudly and turned up the sound of the TV, shutting down every remark that could've followed by the loud boom that cracked through the surround system like thunder.
You didn't need to read the title of the movie, that the first scene was a first-person shot of someone running through the woods at night and the only sound was their breathing and the snapping of twigs was telling you exactly what you were in for.
"Sorry," Legolas said before you even opened your mouth, grinning over at you in the moonshine light of the movie, "No take backsies for any insults just because you don't wanna watch horror!"
"But–"
"No no, no buts."
"You're so mean," Aragorn said to Legolas, but nevertheless grabbed one of the blankets beside him and threw it toward you, "Here, to protect you from any murderers."
You stuck out your tongue at him and yanked the blanket over.
Horror, was by far, the worst outcome of the random selection.
Everything else would've been fine, hell, even a compilation of every time you'd embarrassed yourself in front of Thranduil could be an easier watch than an hour.. oh well two hours of jumpscares.
"You'll be fine," Legolas was already munching on the popcorn he'd prepared earlier, throwing the golden snack into his open mouth and –naturally– not missing a single piece.
It was infuriating how talented he was in some aspects.
"Just don't look to your left and imagine the killer's waiting for you behind the trees."
"I hate you so much."
As expected, the blanket provided little comfort as the movie progressed and whenever you glanced over to Aragorn and Legolas, you could see them whispering together, quietly laughing over the dumb decisions the main character made.
So unfair they had fun while you suffered.
The scenes got even worse the longer you watched, tension sharpening like the knives you saw on screen, flashing in and out as the killer sneaked through the woods. The wind outside as well as inside screamed like a boiling kettle, rattling as the storm picked up and hammered the wind against the window.
There were creaks and echoes everywhere.
Every hair on your body stood up, an electrifying rush of adrenalin cursing through your body and having you cling to the blanket in an attempt to shield yourself.
It came out of nowhere.
The sound of a door opening and immediately shutting close with a bang loud enough that you let out a scream like your life depended on it.
It led to Legolas joining in, yelling in surprise and as he turned around to stare into the dark kitchen, the popcorn flew everywhere.
There, looming in the doorframe was a tall figure, dripping water and looking extremely haunted by the white flashes of the screen illuminating long wet hair and hauntingly sharp cheekbones.
"Oh my fucking god.. fuck! Fuck this shit," you gasped for air, inhaling one breath after the other until you were nearly dizzy.
"Ada, you scared the shit out of us!" Legolas quickly let go of Aragorn, whom he'd jumped the second he'd heard your scream pierce the quiet room.
"My apologies," Thranduils deep rumble sounded.. off. Strained, like the lopsided smile on his lips. "That was not my intention." He looked around, pausing at you and for a second the look on his face seemed haunted. "Please, continue. I'll be upstairs and make sure not to bother you anymore."
"Thran–" you started and rose to bend over the back of the sofa.
He stopped in his movement, haltering to nod at you, "Hi, sweetheart, excuse me for scaring you like that. You look lovely, though." And then he was already stalking back to the hallway, his wet hair clinging to his equally drenched coat.
You turned to Legolas and Aragorn, your expression communicating the confusion you felt clearly by the look of their equally unsure faces.
"Ada?" Legolas called, not looking away from you, his eyebrows drawn together.
"Yes?"
"I may have spilled wine onto the new white carpet. It was some hours ago but maybe we can fix it?" Questioningly you inclined your head, close to asking him what the fuck he was talking about, when Thranduil answered:
"Oh, no worries," –your eyes widened– "It's fine. Let's talk later."
"Well," Legolas stated as soon as you heard Thranduil walk up the stairs. "Either someone kidnapped Ada and that's someone else, or he's calculating how to murder you two for practically living here at this point."
Aragorn, sensing that this wasn't the time to continue, paused the movie. Even he was frowning.
You fell back onto your bottom, eyes flickering back to the doorway in uncertainty. "So I didn't just hallucinate that? You noticed how weird he was?"
"So weird. Maybe something happened?" Aragorn mused and started picking up the popcorn Legolas had strewn all over the place.
"Maybe he finally realized I live here rent-free as well."
You and Aragorn looked at each other. You spoke up first: "Las, the way you inhale his snacks and wine he's just ignorant of the fact. Do you have any idea what's up with him?"
Legolas shrugged, throwing one of the popcorn pieces into his mouth again. "Not the slightest. Haven't seen him like that since.. oh–", he paused, grimacing like he tasted something sour.
"What?" Next to him, Aragorn took away another lint-covered popcorn before he could eat that as well.
Suddenly, Legolas seemed sheepish, his gaze scattering everywhere except you which you immediately noticed.
"Legolas, since when?"
"'S probably doesn't matter," he mumbled, his face turning a traitorous reddish shade that reached the top of his pointy ears.
"You're lying," you detected, not trying to hide the sharp edge in your voice. This was quickly escalating, moving far beyond a simple discussion over what movie to watch. "What's going on? He's never like that… at all. He looked like he'd run over someone!"
"Love," Aragorn tried softly, but you were already too busy staring at Legolas to notice.
"You really want to know?" Legolas asked, the blanket he and Aragorn were under clutched into his fists. "I'll tell you but don't, and I mean it, don't zero in on that. This could be different, like completely." After your nod and a look over his shoulder to check that Thranduil wasn't creeping through the hallway with an axe, he continued:
"Y'know my mother left him, right?"
As soon as he mentioned her, you grew wearily. "Yes–"
"So she left when I was still a baby, like no worries he's fine with it and I'm fine with it and we were alright. He kinda knew it would happen, she was around but never there. He was the one giving up half of his firm so that he could work less and mostly from home. She just.. didn't change at all and when she was gone, Ada wasn't surprised."
You knew the story, it was one of those things Legolas had shared with you under the confined comfort of the blanket of the night and his bed.
"Uhm.. yeah, I don't know how to tell you this but she came back once."
The world swayed, ripping open right in front of you and you felt yourself tumbling, one foot over the edge of that darkness this statement had dunked your head into.
"Oh," you said, immediately trying to shut down the feelings of unease and insecurity gnawing at your mind. "I mean, she's your mom?"
Legolas huffed, "Barely. Biologically yes, but even then one could argue I'm Ada's clone." He grew serious again, his long fingers tapping the arm he'd thrown over his middle, "T'was like what.. nine years.. ten years ago? I was in the kitchen doing my homework when the keys turned and some woman suddenly stood in front of me that I didn't recognize but knew who she was. I kinda screamed. Ada came and when he saw her, he looked just like he looked then."
You blinked, your breathing coming in a bit faster than what you would define as 'totally fine'.
"What happened then?" Aragorn asked for you. Thankfully, because you weren't sure what to say.
"He threw her out and called someone to change the locks," Legolas said and lifted his head to stare at you, "Ada told her to go to hell or he'll sue the living shit out of her for child abandonment and whatever dirt he would find. Yes, he had the same look on his face, yes he was so fucking weird and kind of apathetic but, and listen to me; this could be a whole other thing."
"Wha– what.." you started, stumbling even over that one word, "what if it's not? Maybe he changed his opinion over time."
"Sure," he rolled his eyes but dropped the sarcasm when it did not comfort you at all, "No seriously, believe me, he doesn't want her in his, my, or our life. Not then, not now, not when you two finally figured yourselves out."
While that helped just as much as throwing a single glass of water onto a giant campfire, you nodded and put on a mask of uninterest.
Simply because it was much easier than getting into a whole discussion over feelings that may or may not be out of place.
He could've simply had a bad day at work.
"Let's just continue?" you asked, nearly begged, and were glad when Legolas and Aragorn didn't say another word but started the movie again to fill the awkward silence.
Under the blankets, you were wired.
You'd known you should've let it rest, to leave Legolas alone and maybe if that story had stayed untold, the straw just waiting to be dropped, hadn't dropped to throw your mind into a frenzy that was based on a "what if" situation you had on your hands because of a single, small interaction.
Well, it stood out and didn't fit Thranduil at all, but should you really care that much?
As Legolas said, you and he hadn't even figured out what was going on, just that there was something you both wanted to pursue.
The movie didn't fade you the slightest after the conversation, the next minutes flew past you like they didn't happen at all and when you heard Thranduil come down the stairs and walk into the kitchen, you flew from the couch.
"Be right back," you muttered as you ducked past Legolas and Aragorn; the latter brushing his hand over yours to give it a gentle squeeze.
The momentum that led to you standing up in the first place left you at the sight of Thranduil's turned back, hunched over a plate of chocolate cake Legolas had bought while shopping for snacks.
He looked so weary and tired, deep worry lines indicating his age, still attractive and even more now that he had his hair up in a bun and wore sweatpants you'd never seen him in, but yes, exhaustion was written all over his face when he turned around.
"Hi," you shuffled around, making a lame hand movement that was neither a wave nor anything else, "Should I go? No forget that, of course I'll leave you alone. Never asked, alright? Bye—"
"Stay?"
The question was soft and almost overshadowed by the squeaks of fear coming from the TV.
"I…," you started, stammering but when Thranduil held out the plate and the cake he was still shoveling into his mouth in big bites, you agreed. "Of course."
You jumped onto the counter next to him, ignoring how the sight of sweatpants, gray slightly baggy but not baggy enough sweatpants!, up close messed up every single thought swarming around your head like busy bees.
He leaned back against the counter beside you, ankles crossed and his head thunked against one of the hanging cabinets on the wall.
For a while, all you did was let Thranduil feed you bites of the cake, taking every fork he held up to your mouth carefully and swallowing the questions you wanted to ask with it.
He ate as well, lifting one bite after the other to his lips in between feeding you and every time your eyes hung onto his plush mouth.
Not because his rosy lips looked especially enticing with chocolate cream smeared into their corners, but because of the indications of his teeth in them, in the raw bitten look of them that told you there was definitely something going on.
"Hey," you nudged your leg against his side, "do you want to talk about it?"
The sigh that left his throat sounded more like the groan of a pained animal, his Adams Apple bobbing as he swallowed another bite before placing the plate on the kitchen island.
"You don't have to," you followed up in a rush, not wanting to corner him or force him.
"I should." Thranduil kicked one foot against the counter and turned his head so he looked at you.
Sitting up there, you were close enough to reach over and, in a moment of spontaneity, wipe away the chocolate on his lips.
He caught your hand, pressing a quick kiss onto your palm and keeping it in his when he dropped them.
"Yes, I should absolutely tell you," he swallowed again, "you have a right to now as someone.. as someone important in my life." The way he talked and furrowed his eyebrows showed how much energy and willpower it took him to admit that.
It meant a lot that he tried and cared about the conversation about opening up and being there, being in.
"I got a call at work today that I didn't expect and I'm still unsure what to make of it." Thranduil's hand tightened ever so slightly. His teeth once again found their place in his lower lip, dragging it back and releasing it.
"A lawyer informed me Legolas' mother wants to talk to me."
The air left your body instantly, the sentence punching you into the gut with an iron fist that had 'shouldn't have asked' imprinted on it and marking you all over.
Thranduil noticed, of course, he did, and lifted your intertwined hands for another kiss onto your knuckles.
"I told them not to bother me again," he clarified fast, "Told them ten years ago, told them now."
"Legolas told me that happened," you admitted quietly and let your head fall on top of his shoulders.
"I hope he told you that I had never any interest in keeping contact or searching that woman. I respected her choice to step away from our lives; she expressed a reluctance to embrace motherhood, and I had no authority to impose that role on her if it brought genuine discontent."
"Yes, he said that as well to comfort me."
"And I presume it did not?" Thranduil spoke forward into the otherwise empty kitchen and you followed his words with your eyes, searching the tiled floor for the courage to jump over that damn river of worries that hindered you from opening up.
He did it as well, you thought, he said you had a right to know, that you were someone important in his life.
"No," you finally acquiesced, feet firmly planted onto the metaphorical ground.
"Not the slightest. There is this woman I don't know, the mother of my best friend and the ex-partner of this man I really like and she's a total mystery and suddenly I hear she tried contacting you a few years back and now again and my mind can't help but project that she would be a much better fit to you than me."
There was a pause as the words sunk in.
Then Thranduil turned, opening up your legs with his large hands and stepping in between them.
The dimmed kitchen lights made this intimate, tension there was none for the look in his eyes spoke more of worry and his hands placing themselves under your thighs to pull you closer with effortless strength acted more out of the need to hold you than anything sexual.
"Darling," Thranduil's face filled your entire vision, the impact of the worry etched into the darker circles under his eyes hitting you square into the heart. "I can follow that train of worry and this is not me dismissing it but rather me questioning myself and my actions. Have I given you a reason to believe you're not the only one I want to spend my time with? You alone roam through my house and my head and dreams as if you own them, no one else."
You shook your head and rested your free hand on his chest, splaying your entire palm on the crimson sweater he wore, "Never. But she's probably your age and I'm... well I'm not."
"That is true. She is my age and you are not. She's also– what did Legolas say ten years ago?" He thought back, "Ah yes," he tipped his head closer, leaning his forehead against yours, "No one important. No one worth a second thought. No one, and now those are my words, that would come between you and me."
Your hands wandered, trailing up his collarbone standing out, and up his cold throat.
The hairs you brushed on his neck were still slightly wet, curling at the bottom as they slowly dried. "Then why were you this worried?"
He paused, mirroring you and cupping your face in his warmed hands, "This plagued me for different reasons. A part of me feared you would get scared and I might lose you, and the other was circling the dumb idea that Legolas could be angry that I blocked her off."
"So it was stupid of me to be jealous," you exhaled a deep breath, feeling the heavy weight being lifted of your heart as Thranduil's thumb followed the curve of your jaw and chin.
"Feelings are never stupid, they are valid in every form as long as you don't single them out or ignore your mind. And for you, that's really important because you have a really clever mind." He tapped your temple with his pointer.
A laugh escaped you, easing up the tension. "We're getting good at this," you said and nuzzled your head into his palm, "y'know, talking."
"I do feel very wise right now," Thranduils voice was airy and light, falling into that usual banter you guys were so much better at.
"Mhm, must be the age."
Where his voice had been light, his chuckle was deep and throaty, the tone rasping over every word he spoke: "My age allows for exceptional knowledge in many areas."
If you had been a maid in earlier times, that statement would've caused you to faint and even now it brought a heavy blush to your face at the directness in it.
Because you neither knew what to answer nor to do, you lightheartedly shoved him away, and while you regretted not going in for a kiss, the euphoric feeling that spread through you as he chased behind you through the kitchen made up for it.
"Come on, Grandpa," you giggled, swatting away his arm as he reached for your middle, "Use your knowledge to protect this fair maiden from the movie we're watching."
Legolas's head turned just as you entered the living room, the skeptic look on his face morphing into an understanding smile when Thranduil followed close behind you.
"Fair maiden?" he snorted, "Please, as if."
"Shut up Las," you hit his head as you passed him, nearly hitting Aragorns chest as well and wow, when did they decide that showing their affection in front of Thranduil wouldn't lead to instant death?
You settled into the cushions again, pulling Thranduil next to you.
There was a passing look between Thranduil and Legolas, where Legolas raised an eyebrow daring his father to say anything, and then between Thranduil and Aragorn, where they both nodded at each other before turning away; Thranduil to you, Aragorn to Legolas.
It was so weird, your lips curled.
Then you realized the movie was paused, the screen showing the beginning rather than the middle where you'd left.
"Noo," you whined as realization hit you, "You didn't continue!"
"Why would we? It's so much funnier if you're crying and screaming," Legolas teased and you fired a look of pure hatred at him that he reflected with an angelic smile.
Next to you, Thranduil had made himself comfortable, long legs stretched out and one arm lifted onto the cushions, giving you an encouraging nod to come closer.
You followed the invitation, huddling closer until you were nearly glued to his side and, after drawing the blanket over the both of you, his arm found its place on your hip, fingertips lifting your shirt just enough for him to feel the warmth of your stomach under his spread palm.
"Don't worry," he whispered and his nose nudged the crown of your head, "I scream much louder watching these movies. Now, Legolas, know that after this movie you're in for spilling wine again and ruining the carpet!"
"Wasn't me." Legolas tipped his chin to the wine glass next to where you'd sat when Thranduil had come home instead of telling him that there was in fact no stain or no ruined carpet.
"Oh," Thranduil's hand started circling your stomach, causing the army of butterflies in there to fly high, "then don't worry, sweetheart. I hated it anyway, ugly color, so much white. I'll buy a new one in red if you like that color that much."
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the-autistic-vulcan · 11 months
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Intrigue (Thranduil x F!Reader) @lemonivall
Description: You've always been the wallflower, but he's bothered to notice you
Genre: Fluff
a/n: reader is implied an elf; (e/c) means eye colour; this turned out more like a drabble than a fic (oops)
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Your marriage to Thranduil had always been a mystery to you, mainly for the mere fact he chose you.
You, were always subdued and kept to yourself, not engaging in many social exchanges or really getting that much attention and fading into the background. That was until he showed up in your life. He was intrigued by your quiet nature and decided to strike up a conversation with you one night at some gathering he didn't wish to go to.
To be completely honest, you thought he was just there to make it all the more apparent that you were quiet.
But no...he wanted to.
Several years later, after much courting, you married...but, you were still awfully confused of the matter. You sat through the entire after party, sitting in a seat away from all of the chaos and loudness of the party to think everything over.
Why me? You thought, why of all elves did he choose me? You knew you had to talk to him about it...but when?
~ Time Skip ~
It was now your first night together as husband and wife - you were left laying on a, quite literal, Queen-sized bed, silk sheets were soft to the touch, the pillows were perfectly puffed up and the room was dimly lit with your favourite scented candles. You were clad in a beautiful satin nightdress, Thranduil laid with you, kissing up and down your arm with so much love and yearning.
"You look divine, meleth nin." He says between kisses, he makes his way up to your shoulder, then to your neck. He is about to approach your lips when you place a hand over his mouth.
You sit up and turn to face him.
"What's the matter, my queen? Do you not like this?" He asked, his brows furrowed in a concerned manner.
"No, it's not that I don't like it...I just...I don't know." you answer.
He takes his hand and grazes his knuckles on your cheek in a caressing motion. "You can tell me anything, dearest. Anything at all."
You sigh, then finally, you realise you just have to spit it out.
"Why did you choose me?"
He stops and just stares at you, his icy blue eyes piercing into your curious (e/c) ones. He sighs and places your hands in his.
"Why did I choose you? Let's see...you are intriguing to me. Your sociability was not the thing that intrigued me about you, but it was your kind nature once I spoke to you. Your beauty is beyond compare than most I've seen, and your mere presence alone calms me and centres me greatly. Why I chose you is obvious...you intrigue me, meleth nin. I couldn't choose anyone else but you."
You couldn't help but smile, he meant a lot to you, that's a given, but the fact you mean that much to him meant the world.
"...I didn't think I'd mean that much."
"If you didn't, we wouldn't be in this bed together, would we?" he laughed, earning a chuckle from you. "Now, why don't we continue, that is if you want."
Rest assured, the night was filled with the same passion as his words were. You didn't get a lot of attention, but this changed everything.
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sillylotrpolls · 8 months
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(No relevant reading below the poll because lol, there is none. There are a couple notes though.)
As Elrond only seemed to record birthdays for Elves and Men he was closely related to, Legolas' age is a matter of some debate. (We also have no idea how old Thranduil is, or Glorfindel, or Haldir, or...) The "official" age quoted is from a movie guide that presumably did not have a lot of oversight and definitely was not based on anything in Tolkien's extended canon, but you can certainly go with it if you want to.
For comparison, Elrond's sons Elladan and Elrohir are 2,889 at the end of Return of the King, and Arwen is 2,778.
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