#elven king | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chloedrewitt · 2 years

Text

𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙎𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙨 - 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙪𝙞𝙡 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

summary: You are captured in Mirkwood after you defend yourself from a drunk guard who mistakes you for the enemy, and brought before the Elven King. Due to a misunderstanding, he is expected to punish you, but how could he when you look exactly like his dead wife?

pairing: Thranduil x Reincarnated!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: mentions of assault, protective!Thranduil, age gap (MC is an adult)

a/n: just a quick little one shot I had the idea for while watching RoP and reading up on Lotr lore. No smut, just Thrandy reuniting with his wife.

Request status: open [info]

Taglist: @evyiione

If you wish to be added to or removed from the character taglist, please comment underneath this post.

Masterlist - Ko-fi

“The Children of Ilúvatar are described as existing in two parts: they have a spirit or soul (fëa) [...], and a body (hröa). [...] When an Elf dies, the fëa leaves the hröa, which then dies. The fëa is called to the Halls of Mandos, where it is judged. If allowed by Mandos, the fëa may be reincarnated into a new-born body that is identical to the previous one.”

- Fëa and hröa, The One Wiki To Rule Them All The grip around your arm was so strong that every time you moved, it hurt. You glared up at the guard next to you, though his gaze was fixed ahead. From where you were kneeling on the floor, he looked four meters tall but you knew this was only due to your perspective. It was dehumanizing, and for the first time, you understood how animals felt shortly before they were slain.

You were sure this would be your death, too, even though you had not even done anything wrong, at least in your eyes. All you had tried to do was defend yourself from the anger of a drunken guard, but these people seemed to take his word over yours.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the guard bow down deeply as steps appeared in the distance, growing louder with each second that passed. You dared not raise your gaze, so you remained with your eyes locked on the floor, your long hair shielding your face from curious looks like curtains. Not that anyone else was in the throne room, but it was still comforting to know you could hide.

You had never seen the Elven King in person, at least not this close. Most of what you knew was based on stories told throughout the kingdom. Many thought he was the most beautiful of all Elves, others called him cruel and heartless. Though it had not stopped you from wanting to join the guard one day when you were little, but now, as an adult, you realized that it would have only held you back.

The King climbed the stairs to his throne, onto which he lowered himself gracefully, crossing one leg over the other and placing his right elbow on the arm rest. His index finger traced the edge of his jawline as he watched you closely, but you refused to meet his eyes. The guard next to you straightened his back again and increased the grip around your arm even more, which made you growl.

“Tell me again what happened,” said the Elven King, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. It was powerful enough to fill the entire throne room, despite there being no walls to separate it from the hallways in the castle.

“She attacked Erynor while he was on patrol,” the guard replied, giving you a disapproving stare.

“Unprovoked?” The Elven King tilted his head to the side, his long platinum hair falling around his shoulders. You felt his eyes on you and it almost made you nauseous.

“Yes.”

“That’s a lie!” You intervened, wanting to stand but the guard forced you back on your knees as soon as you made the attempt. Pain shot through your legs when your knees met the hard floor. “It was self-defense. He-” Your voice cracked, anger clouding your mind. “He was drunk and mistook me for an intruder.”

You had raised your head by now and were looking directly at the Elven King. But he didn’t answer, he simply stared at you with his lips slightly parted. You, too, stopped in your tracks and tried to sort the unexplainable wave of recognition you felt the moment you properly laid eyes on him. You had never seen this man before, yet you were sure you knew him.

“This is most likely a lie to protect herself. Erynor is the most honorable member of the guard. He would not be intoxicated while on patrol.” The elf next to you did not seem to notice his king’s sudden change in mood, so he proceeded to talk down on you. It was not hard, given you were a lowly born Elf, left on your adoptive parents’ doorstep when you were but an infant.

“Let her speak,” ordered the king as he rose to his feet, his eyes still locked on you. You withstood the intensity of his gaze, partly because you couldn’t look away yourself. Only when you felt the guard let go of your arm did you turn your head towards him, rubbing the sore spot where your skin had reddened.

“I was gathering herbs in the forest. The safe parts of the forest,” you clarified, taking a step towards your king as he slowly descended the stairs. Your eyes met once again. “This… Erynor insisted I was here to collect information on the state of the Woodland Realm, to give to our enemies. I explained to him I was a jeweler’s daughter, here to collect herbs for my ill mother but he did not believe me, especially not in his state.”

You swallowed, dropping your eyes for a moment. When you looked up again, you saw that the king was standing a few meters in front of you, his height not any less impressive now that he was on the same level as you. The man clasped his hands together behind his back as he nodded towards the guard still standing beside you.

“Leave us.”

“My lord, are you certain-”

“-she will hardly be a danger to me now, will she?” He asked, sarcasm and annoyance in his voice. The guard gulped. “Leave us.”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, studying the king as the guard’s steps slowly faded into the distance. Only when their echo stopped, did the king approach you further until you were closer than you’d deem appropriate.

“What is your name?” He asked with a gentler voice as he looked down at you. Not in a condescending way, like the guard had, but with curiosity in his eyes.

“(y/n),” you replied, digging your nails into your still crossed arms. His presence was overwhelming and magnetic. Being this close, you could hardly look away. The corners of his lips sank slightly and he averted his gaze at your answer, disappointment briefly marking his features. You swallowed, not sure whether you had said something wrong.

“Forgive me,” you began hesitantly, drawing his attention back to you, “but have we met? I recognize you from somewhere but I don’t quite know where from.” His eyes widened, making you fear you had somehow offended him by implying someone from low birth as you could have crossed the Elven King before.

“I meant not to offend you,” you added, a bit too quickly to do so gracefully.

“Not at all.” His voice was reassuring, and he closed some of the distance between you. His hands lingered in the air, as if he was debating whether it would be appropriate to touch you, but decided against it when he lowered them again.

The Elven King and you were alone now in the throne room, with only the occasional sound coming from somewhere above you two signaling that the castle was not abandoned. You wanted to say something, but he seemed to go through an internal conflict just by looking at you.

It took a few moments more, but he caught himself again and exhaled deeply, his features relaxing. “I will have Erynor investigated. Do not stray too far from the palace until then.”

You nodded, rubbing the palms of your hands against each other nervously. Curiosity made you stand still, despite obviously having been dismissed. He had already turned his back on you, ready to return to his throne, when he stopped in his tracks and turned his head to the side. “Is there anything else you wish to say to me?”

“You know me from somewhere, don’t you?” You asked, hiding your shaking hands behind your back. You had never been one to do as you were told, and sometimes your curiosity got the better of you. Something your adoptive parents had told you to work on.

When he didn’t answer, you took a step forward.

“Please,” you said silently, hoping to perhaps find a clue about your roots.

He exhaled deeply, turning slowly to face you again. “I do not wish to burden you with the shadows of the past. It is a weight I must carry alone.”

But this answer did not satisfy you, so you took another step forward and said, “I carry enough burdens already, one more will make no difference.”

The Elven King chuckled sadly, eyes flickering between yours. “You sound a lot like her.”

“Who?”

“My wife.” A pause followed, but you remained silent. “She died in my arms on the battlefield years ago. Longer than you are alive, I presume.”

You placed a hand on your side, tears threatening to fall. “How-” Your voice cracked, so you took a deep breath, before you said more loudly, “How did she die?”

He followed your hand with his eyes and furrowed his thick eyebrows as he took another step towards you. “A sword to her side.”

You gasped, a tear rolling down your cheek while you dug your nails into the fabric of your dress. Your mother had always joked that it looked like a sword wound, and she had even speculated that you must have been a soldier in your previous life.

“I have a birthmark there,” you said, voice shaking slightly. “It looks like the wound of a sword.”

Though no memories came back to you, an overwhelming wave of emotions made it hard for you to think properly. It was as if you and the Elven King shared a connection that had been severed, and was now slowly being restored. You felt the warmth of his hands as they ghosted above your shoulders, which were exposed by the dress you wore. The hairs on your neck stood on end while a single name came to your mind. It was not like you recalled something you had forgotten, but rather an instinct.

“Thranduil,” you said breathlessly, and you saw that he was barely able to contain himself. His hands found their way to your cheeks, where his thumbs gently caressed your skin. The king’s name was not commonly known across the realm.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispered, his own eyes becoming glassy. “I was ready to go to war over what you have left me. Thank Mandos for sending you back to me.” His breath brushed your skin, his thumb gently pushing down on your bottom lip before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

You felt it then deep in your bones that this was the Elf you loved, despite not having a single memory of him. It stung a little, but you found comfort in the fact that you would make new ones.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you had to stand on your tip-toes to reach his lips, the kiss sending a warm feeling through your body. With flushed cheeks, you pulled away to whisper, “I won’t leave you again.”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your pointed ear. It did not take a lot to see how your death in your past life had broken him, but you made a promise to both him and yourself. You never had a home to begin with, perhaps this could be the start of what you’d always longed for.

Then, his eyes darkened and he looked at you with determination. “I will see to it that no one ever touches you again. And those who harm you will pay with their lives.”

You placed a hand on his cheek, offering him a kind smile. It was tragic how the things we loved the most, and the things we so desperately wanted to be our saviors, often ended up being our greatest ruin. But you decided then and there, that you would not become his. Not ever again.

#thranduil #thranduil x reader #legolas #the hobbit #lord of the rings #lotr #lee pace #protective thranduil #elven king

2K notes · View notes