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tarantado-si-viann · 1 year

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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^^

#lotr #lotr x y/n #lotr x reader #legolas #legolas x reader #lotr fanfic #lotr fandom #thranduil #the hobbit #lord of the rings x reader #thranduil x reader #imladris #rivendell #lord elrond #oh shit

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roselightfairy · 1 year

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I know it’s been a million and a half years since there was any modverse collab content, but in honor of the WIP prompt reminding me that this existed - and our own sweet friends at home - have some modverse kitty content from me and @deheerkonijn to you!

(elf cats live a long time shhh)

...

The furniture in the parlor was . . . stiff.

Not hard, exactly – the sofa where Gimli sat was cushioned enough that no one could have complained, and even if that had been the problem, there were enough throw pillows (lying scattered across the floor where Legolas had tossed them) to remedy them. It was just that it was almost . . . a little too upright to be quite comfortable, as though made for someone with better posture than he had – even if Legolas, lounging horizontally with his legs across Gimli’s lap, seemed to belie that thought. It was like everything in this manor so far: ornately-carved taps and deep-basined sinks; vast archways and tall, narrow windows with fastenings too high to comfortably open. Beautiful architecture: a building made to be looked at, not lived in.

And yet live in it they did – Legolas, who had navigated this place as easily as he did his apartment at home, knowing exactly which staircase to tug Gimli up to dump their luggage unceremoniously on the bed, rummaging unself-consciously through a tall liquor cabinet to help himself (and Gimli, too) to wine that would have come with an absolutely forbidding price tag in Minas Tirith. Thranduil, who had walked in on Legolas doing this in the kitchen and made no comment but a droll, “More excited to see the wine than your own father, then?”

He sat perfectly upright across the room in his own armchair now, nodding along as Legolas spun an epic narrative of their train journey here. Gimli sat quietly and watched him – watched them, father and son, the ways they took up space in this sitting room. Thranduil’s posture made the space into a council table, the armchair into its head; he sat as though holding court – but Legolas was the one who ran it, whose conversation held the room in rapture, both of them rotating into the captivating orbit of his presence. Gimli wasn’t sure how he felt yet about the Prime Minister of Eryn Lasgalen, but this at least he could admire – that he had made this place, stiff and upright as it was, a home for Legolas.

“– and then he was like, ‘Who do you think you’re visiting, the PM?’ and Gimli just said, ‘Yes,’” Legolas was giggling now, nudging Gimli’s thigh with a heel. “Completely straight-faced! I couldn’t stop laughing. Tell him the rest, meleth.”

Gimli laughed, despite himself – and was this a skill that Legolas had inherited from his father, then? He could feel the effort to put him at ease, to spread Legolas’s own comfort into Gimli – and it was working, softening the room around him like the furniture at his back.

He closed a hand fondly around Legolas’s ankle, trying not to track Thranduil’s eyes tracking the motion. “There’s not much more to say,” he said. “Or, at least, he didn’t seem to think so. Shut up for the rest of the train ride. Not a peep.”

“It was great,” Legolas interjected. “You would have loved it, Dad.”

“I’m sure I would.” Was that smile indulgent or tolerant? Either one was more than Gimli had dared to expect. “Well, I am glad you made it here, at any rate.”

“Me too.” Legolas twisted to aim his most endearing hopeful smile right into Gimli’s face. “I’m glad to show Gimli this place finally.”

“I had hoped you would manage it before your wedding,” said Thranduil. “Some other fathers might have hard words to say about that.” This with an arched eyebrow to match the wryness of his voice. “But, ah well, at least you came eventually. Oh – hello, Smudge.”

Gimli blinked, the non sequitur soaring directly over his head. Had he missed something? – but then, even as he opened his mouth to speak, a patter-clacking interjected in the silence and he turned towards the sound to see a slender tortoiseshell cat slinking its way through the gap in the half-ajar door. It moved very slowly, one dainty paw in front of the other, pale eyes narrowed as it took them all in.

“Smudge?” Gimli said.

“Smudge!” Legolas exclaimed with delight at the same time. “My best friend! Oh, Gimli, she’s been around forever. How is she doing, Dad?”

“See for yourself.” The cat – Smudge – made her way slowly across the room, pausing in front of the couch where they sat even as Legolas dropped a hand to the floor. She sniffed delicately at his fingers, nosing up and down his hand before stretching her head forward until his fingers parted around her ears – but just as his hand contracted to scratch her head, she turned deliberately away, letting his fingers drag along the full length of her body before leaving him to hop up onto the arm of Thranduil’s chair.

“Oh,” Legolas laughed. “Is someone mad at me for being away?” His voice turned into a croon at those last words, the tone he used when mock-scolding Athelas and Simbelmyne. “Were you so, so lonely without me?”

“You might have come back to visit earlier for her sake, if not for your father’s.” Thranduil’s long-suffering tone was spoiled by the twitch of a smile at the corners of his lips – and, to Gimli’s amazement, by the way the cat shoved her head into his hand, his fingers curling around the top of her head to scratch vigorously behind her ears. It might have looked regal, a monarch with his cat, except for the loud purring of the cat and the speed of his scratching fingers – not halfhearted at all, whatever he might claim.

“How are the kittens?” Legolas said. “I haven’t seen a picture in weeks – they must be so big!”

“Big enough to cause trouble.” Thranduil waved his unoccupied hand dismissively. “They’re around somewhere – they always turn up just when you don’t want them. Just like her.”

Did his voice – was that a shade of Legolas’s own croon in his voice?

“Smudge,” Gimli repeated, looking at the cat with a new respect. His first day in the home of Lasgalen’s Prime Minister and he had somehow already seen him soften!

“Smudge,” said Legolas, so fondly Gimli could practically see the hearts in his eyes. “She’s been around since I was a little kid; she’s like the mascot of this place. Cats live a long time here,” he added, at Gimli’s questioning look. “Must be the air.”

The air, or maybe the elves themselves – something about them that kept everything around them just a little younger than it should have been, just a little more sturdy. “How old is she then?”

“Late twenties now?” Thranduil mused. “She was only a kitten when she moved in” – moved in, Gimli noted, as if it had been a business negotiation – “but we didn’t know how old exactly.”

“But I was only a few years old,” said Legolas. “So yeah, must be late twenties. She was my best friend when I was little, Gimli. But she’s got a good few years left in her. Don’t you, Smudge? Come here!” He clicked his tongue.

Apparently, the cat’s ire was no more serious than Thranduil’s, for she hopped down from his chair and pattered her way across the floor back to Legolas’s beckoning fingers. When she reached them, though, he swept a hand under her and scooped her tiny body into the air as she squawked in displeasure. But Legolas only laughed, holding her up above his head as her paws flailed in the air.

“Ohh, you’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you,” he cooed, and lowered her onto his chest. “Come here, yes, that’s it.” In the same motion she had applied to Thranduil, Smudge drove her head into Legolas’s face, their noses colliding as Legolas giggled again. “Do you forgive me for leaving? Yes, I missed you, too. Oh, yes” – He laughed helplessly as the cat nuzzled his face, his neck, her paws now kneading at his chest. “Come here, I have someone for you to meet.” And without further ado he scooped her up again, sliding his whole body upright in the same motion, to present her to Gimli.

“Be careful,” Thranduil warned. “She doesn’t always take to strangers.”

“It’ll be okay,” said Legolas. “Just give her your hand to sniff.”

Gimli extended it cautiously. He’d never been much of a cat person – had never really understood how they ticked. But if this cat loved Legolas, surely they had at least that in common, right?

Her whiskers tickled his fingers, her nose cold and wet and velvety as it brushed just against his fingertips: once, twice. She withdrew, as if thinking – and then, cautiously, she nuzzled up against him just as she had with Legolas and Thranduil.

Gimli glanced to Legolas, and at his encouraging nod, he dared to scratch her behind the ears, too.

“She likes you,” said Legolas, grinning. “See, I told you she would!” He rested a hand on Gimli’s shoulder, warm and reassuring and meaningful. “Everybody does.”

In that moment, Gimli wasn’t sure Legolas was talking about the cat.

He flicked his eyes across the room to where Thranduil still sat, watching them – still with that tiny, almost soft smile, as though at the sight of his son, all of his dryness couldn’t help but fall away.

At least they had that in common. And Gimli felt, all of a sudden, a rush of fondness for Thranduil – for his father-in-law – for the home he had made for Legolas here, for the love he felt for his son and his cat. For sharing his fancy furniture and his expensive wine with Gimli, for welcoming him here, for the sake of the person they both loved.

And as an irrepressible smile began to bloom on his face in turn, as he relaxed back into his seat, Gimli thought that the sofa might have become just a touch more comfortable than it was.

#modverse #my fic #adventures in cowriting #cats #legolas x gimli #thranduil #smudge the cat #don't reblog this yet there's going to be a picture

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eileenslibrary · 5 months

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Cold Cold Heart

Hey the second chapter isn't gonna be posted until next weekend, I had something come up take this to be satiated

song: Cold Cold Heart cover by Norah Jones

Thranduil X GN!Reader (You are referenced to be Legolas's 2nd mom but gender is never specified and can read it however you wish)

Genre: Angst/Fluff

“I’ve tried so hard my dear” you speak grabbing your king’s attention “What?” he asks

“To show that you’re my every dream, yet you’re afraid everything I do is just some evil scheme” you sigh rubbing your temple and leaning against the doorframe of the study “I do not understand?” you stand up straight and walk over to him taking his hands in yours “A memory from your lonesome past keeps us so far apart, why can’t I free your doubtful mind, and melt your cold cold heart” you finish placing one of your hands upon his chest. Thranduil scoffs shrugging you off of him “This is a marriage for convenience for my son to have a second parental figure in his life” he sighs going back to royal duties. You sigh turning around and walking away.

You walk down the enchanted halls an eerie feeling encapsulating your form as you wander to your chambers, you hear Legolas and Tauriel bickering in the hall a little way down, but you pay it no mind until you hear your name “I cannot believe he is treating them like this” Legolas hums “You cannot control who your father loves Legolas” Tauriel reminds “I know but I’m stumped because he showed interest in them before I even met them, what has changed now” he sighs, you step out “Legolas, come here” you say a pained look painting your face, Legolas freezes the young elf hanging his head and walking over to you “Have a walk with me my son” you hum placing a hand onto his shoulder and guiding him to your chambers to talk. “(Name) I didn’t mean-” you shake your head “No it’s alright, you were only looking out for me, but you have to understand I will always be second in his eyes, and I should be in yours too, I will never be as great as your mother,” you say sniffling as tears begin to fall, pulling Legolas into your arms. “Don’t say such absurd things, although you’ll never be blood-related you are still important to me” he huffs sadly holding on to you even tighter. Legolas rubs your back as you hold your head in your hands “Oh Legolas I don’t know how to get out of this” you whimper as your hard breaths shake your shoulders. “A love before my time made his heart sad an’ blue so now my heart is paying now for things, I didn’t do,” you cry “In anger, unkind words are said that make the teardrops start” he hums pulling you closer “Yet why can’t I free his doubtful mind, and melt his cold cold heart” you sob making your breath stutter.

Thranduil walks into the forest to think he hears a soft voice talking, he approaches the sound and sees you sitting as your beloved messenger bird eats feed from your hand “There was a time when I believed that he belonged to me, but now I know his heart is shackled to a memory” you whisper playing with a stray feather “The more I learn to care for him the more we drift apart, oh why can’t I free his doubtful mind and melt his cold cold heart” Thranduil approaches you cautiously, crouching down in front of you, you look up to find those sapphire irises looking at you “Yes my king” you hurriedly say wiping your tears “There is no need to hide your tears” he hums wiping the ones still falling, he sits down lifting your chin to look at him a confused look encompasses your features, he pulls you to his chest making your bird squawk at the sudden unsettlement a breathless chuckle escaping him he pulls you into a kiss making your eyes widen before they flutter to a close. Thranduil apologizes before he leads you to your chambers to spend time with one another, you place a kiss on his cheek before snuggling into his arms even more dozing as he watches over you, a true smile taking over his features the first in a long long time.

#lord of the rings #the hobbit #thranduil x you #thranduil #thranduil x reader #the elvenking

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sotwk · 3 months

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Not to give you two asks in the one day but I always find it interesting to consider which elves stayed or went to the Undying Lands but sadly most of my 'real life' friends do not have any opinions on Thranduil staying or going. I find the idea of him leaving really interesting (how long does he stay? how easy/hard is it for him to leave? what makes him finally decide to go? how does the rest of middle earth/his people respond?). I think it really makes sense in your au for him to go (not that I know much about it) to be reunited with Maereth and his sons. For me, I've always thought that he would stay because I think he wouldn't necessarily mind living on in a different Middle Earth the way other elves might and also stubbornness. (Also I subscribe to the theory that Legolas's mother is alive and well, which very much changes things).

This is a very long and rambling way of saying that I'm glad to hear your take on Thranduil leaving/staying in Middle Earth because it's a topic that has always interested me and also would you ever write him and Maereth reuniting in the Undying Lands?

SotWK AU Headcanon: Thranduil's Fate in the Undying Lands

A Thranduil headcanon I feel very passionate about yet I feel does not get enough mention in fan writings, is the depth of his suffering and the true extent of his losses during the Third Age.

Certainly, Mirkwood gets a happy ending when it survives the fall of Dol Guldur and is reinvigorated into the new kingdom of Eryn Lasgalen. But it took Thranduil nearly everything he had to get his people there.

Putting aside the deaths of his most beloved wife (grievous enough to cause lesser elves to fade) and two of his sons, the Elvenking battled against Sauron and his minions from TA 1000 to 3019. In the SotWK AU, the death of his wife in TA 2793 meant at that point, he had already lost half of his family, and been forced into underground halls, his once proud people turned into refugees on their own lands.

Yet he always picked himself back up and continued to protect just not Mirkwood, but also their allies in Dale during The Battle of Five Armies. Then, he sent his last remaining son to The Council AND thwarted Sauron's invasions into Mirkwood during the War of the Ring.

Yes, Thranduil is perhaps the most enduring elf in Middle-earth, but centuries of holding fast against corrupting darkness and suffering would be enough to take a toll on anyone. We Thranduil stans like to point out that he did not have the advantage of a Ring of Power. So what powers did he lean on? His own!

By the time the "happy ending" is achieved, Thranduil is just as badly beaten and bruised in spirit as the ringbearer Frodo. Look at it this way: Frodo carried the One Ring for about 18 years (the last year being the Quest) and suffered unspeakable pain as a result, and was never fully-healed again.

Thranduil, whose spirit was tied to Greenwood the Great, used his inner strength and innate "magic" powers to guard it as best as his could and prevent Sauron himself from overwhelming that entire forest for 2,000 years. In my mind, Thranduil turned his very self into a shield to protect the Elves of Mirkwood against the Darkness, to prevent every last one of them from being hauled off to Dol Guldur where they would be corrupted into an orc army. (Which isn't to say this did not happen to some unfortunate Silvans throughout the Third Age.) The point is, the Elves of Mirkwood still had enough quality of life to hold merry feasts in a Valar-forsaken forest, and Thranduil had to have paid a steep price for that. He HAD to have been SO TIRED. But he carried on.

At the start of his rule, young Elvenking Thranduil might have declared he was prepared to live in and rule the Woodland Realm forever. But that was not his destiny.

As that quote we love so well goes:

“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo. "So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

Thranduil needed to retire to the Blessed Realm to achieve healing and rest, just as much as Frodo and Bilbo did. And of course, to reunite with his beloved wife and sons. THAT is his happy ending--in my mind and AU, at least.

How long does he stay?

Thranduil sails on the Last Ship with Celeborn, Círdan and (pardon the spoiler) Gelir, the last of his sons to leave Middle-earth. The date this last ship sails is unidentified in Tolkien canon, but takes place at least after FA 171. Why?

A neat SotWK timeline event for you: In honor of his wife Maereth's love for the Durins and his family's friendship with the Dwarves of Erebor, Thranduil led an army to assist Durin VII in the Retaking of Khazad-dûm. Thranduil and Maereth shared special memories of Khazad-dûm, and Thranduil was actually moved to tears to see those halls finally cleansed of orcs once more.

How easy/hard is it for him to leave? What makes him finally decide to go?

200 or so years was more than enough time for Thranduil to ensure that Eryn Lasgalen was properly re-established under the kingship of his heir, Aranion, son of Mirion. His granddaughter, Anariel, had committed to staying with her brother in Middle-earth and helping him in his rule. The Silvan people were in excellent hands.

Thranduil's daughter-in-law, Itarildë (eager to reunite with Mirion), and his son Turhir, had already sailed to the Undying Lands in FA 61, on the same ship as Samwise Gamgee. Legolas left with Gimli in FA 120.

By the time the Last Ship sailed, Thranduil was more than ready to go and join the rest of his family in Aman.

How does the rest of Middle-earth/his people respond?

The people of Eryn Lasgalen deeply loved Thranduil, and were of course sad to see him leave. But they also knew their King had suffered long enough and missed this wife terribly, and they wished only joy and healing for him, especially after everything he had endured for their sake.

Farewell feasts were certainly held, to allow friends and allies from across Middle-earth--Gondor, Dale, Rohan, the Shire and Khazad-dûm--to pay their respects to the great Elvenking.

I have no specifics, but I know that his departure from Middle-earth was forevermore commemorated in a great annual feast in Eryn Lasgalen.

Would you ever write him and Maereth reuniting in the Undying Lands?

Well, seeing as writing just this headcanon post got me all misty-eyed and punched in the feels, I suppose I could write that reunion story once I'm able to gather the emotional strength for it. XD

Thank you as always for this superb Ask, Ace Reporter @hobbitwrangler! <3

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#sotwk answers #sotwk headcanon #sotwk oc #thranduil #maereth #tolkien #tolkien elves #middle earth #thranduil x oc #thranduil headcanon #valinor #grey havens

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amloveabledeathmo · 8 months

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Thinking about and discussing my IDK I'm Tired idea with my spouse @howlingwolf23 we came up with a more fleshed out idea, but not really from Thranduil's point of view, kinda more an omniscient point of view.

First we will change Gimli to be 70 so about 5 years over what I think is the age of majority for dwarves and then we add him to the company. So the capture of the dwarves happens like in the movies. They get taken to the cells, for the most part the families are grouped together but Gloin was causing issues after Legolas insulted his precious son who is right over there. As punishment Gimli gets stuck in his own cell a little past Fili and Kili and most of the cells are spread apart to make communication difficult for the dwarves, they pretty much can only see maybe one other group of dwarves and would have to yell to communicate. Bilbo is of course sneaking around and bridging the gap, passing messages and assurances, helping keep morale steady.

Well Tauriel finds herself drawn to Kili and starts spending a good hour or two a day sitting beside the cell talking to him which bothers Legolas who does not want to get his bestie in trouble so instead of complaining to any other elf he finds himself at the very last occupied cell, Gimli's. Pretty soon he is also spending hours of his freetime chatting with a dwarf (and apologizing for calling him a goblin mutant).

We'll say about 2 months have passed and Legolas has fallen hard for this well spoken and spirited (and handsome) dwarf. He decides as the kings son he can do what he wants and takes Gimli out of the cell to show him different places he's described to him. Of course at first Thranduil is like wtf why are you leading a dwarf around our home. Legolas spins a story about trying to get Gimli to turn on his companions by showing him the beauty of the elves and keeping him away from the rest of the dwarves. Thranduil can see by how close the pair are standing that there is far more than that going on but decides he does not want to know. So is like okay yeah whatever but I don't want dwarves all over my house.

Eventually though the pair start holding hands and sitting nearly in eachother's laps and Bilbo is very careful to let everyone who is not Gloin know about this developement (he also tattles on Kili and Tauriel). The dwarves are of course upset but what can they do about it. Then the kinda but also not so discreet making out starts to happen. The dwarves are in an uproar about and elf taking advantage of their youngest company member and Bilbo has to confess it was in fact Gimli who yanked Legolas down into a kiss first, which brings mixed feelings, yay Gimli has found a love, good for him for pursuing it, and absolutely no it's an elf.

Gimli and Kili talk to Bilbo and decide to share the secret about him sneaking around to their elves. Bilbo tells them about his plan to get the dwarves out via to barrels but he's not sure how to distract all the guards. Legolas comes up with the idea to have a heavy make out session with Gimli in the corridor leading to the room with the barrels because he knows none of the elves want to tell his father so they all just turn around and act like they've seen nothing whenever they encounter Gimli and Legolas.

The evening of the party Legolas makes sure to very undiscreetly grab Gimli's hand and lead him away, he looks back to see his father just straight up grab the bottle of wine and start chugging and can see that the elves are side eyeing him and his father uncomfortably.

Tauriel sneaks off soon after and lifts all the cell door keys. Her and Bilbo release the prisoners quickly and cautiously head towards the barrels, Tauriel goes ahead a few paces to check that the path is clear. It's all going pretty well until Gloin manages to catch Gimli and Legolas making out. He takes a deep breath and the others have realized what's about to happen so they grab him and cover his mouth and drag him away, while muffled yelling and thrashing occurs. Gimli is alerted by the noise so the snogging stops and they both turn to look. Gimli and Legolas have a hurried discussion before following the group.

That's as far as we got. We aren't sure if we should have the elves go with their dwarves and help with Erebor and Laketown or if they should stay behind and run distractions. But thinking they go with the dwarves so that way Thranduil has a reason to show up pretty soon in time to help with the battle whereas if the elves stay behind they could make the army mobilization not happen in time. But anyway it would be a happy ending no major character death and Thorin and Bilbo, Gimli and Legolas, and Kili and Tauriel at least all courting.

#the hobbit #gigolas #kiliel #bagginshield #hobbit au

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meadowsofmay · 11 months

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what's interesting to me about legolas leaving his homeland behind and searching for a ranger on the north is something that actually fully explained their whole dynamic to me at this early morning hour.

big post ahead, brace yourselves.

legolas leaves the battle of the five armies, and essentially, mirkwood being a soldier. half of his life at least he spent training and fighting in a way that soldiers do, that means he knows discipline — he must follow orders, he must control what he is doing and he must control his emotions, he must asses the situation and he must give orders, he must plan, he must care for those under his command, he must make right decisions, he must, must, must...

that's a hard life to live but, given the situation mirkwood had, he made a decision to be a soldier and he served enough to rise in ranks. he had alot of responsibilities that started weighting him down for a reason.

see, he is young (and many headcanon him being one of the youngest among elves) but he didn't have different life and he wants to, he wants to know what's out there besides constant fighting with the same creatures every single day. he wants to learn more about the bigger world he is a part of — and maybe before the end to his little part of the world will eventually come.

he explored his little world enough without restrictions when he was a child, so he justifiably thinks it's time for him to explore what's beyond it. he just didn't have enough of a reason before the battle of the five armies and tauriel thing where he realized he doesn't want to come back to his previous life and wants to learn who he is besides a prince and a soldier.

legolas is conflicted and the only thing thranduil can do in this situation (obviously not being the one who denies his son) is to give him direction (for legolas to have a sense of knowing and for thranduil himself to at least know where in the world his son is). why he knows about aragorn is none of my concern but what is is thranduil knowing about a son of a great man that will probably become even a greater one and thinking that his own son will find a better company by his side.

and legolas does. we can assume that legolas finds strider and his rangers and joines them for a while. he learns how to live in a wild, and even though legolas lived in a woods before that — he lived in a controlled environment. with aragorn there is no control over him. there is companionship. no oaths and pledges, no allegiance. legolas learns to make decisions for his own self and he learns to chose whom he gives his trust. this made the same tasks, say, fighting and going on missions (same things he did as a soldier), appear under different light because they were done with and for different person and cause.

legolas follows aragorn because he develops a sense of trust. and it becomes only stronger over the years they spend on adventures together. aragorn doesn't make him do things, eventually, aragorn doesn't even need to ask. legolas does because he wants to. that's a rare thing among those in the army. you can't just do or not do.

in the wild — legolas has a choice. and he has time to learn.

he learns that aragorn indeed is a great man, the one whom he can rely on and whom he can trust.

he learns that he himself is enough for someone to trust him, that he is good enough, that he did enough. he learns that feelings can be mutual and he has this overflowing desire to be by the side of the person who opened his eyes to those things. he feels inspired.

that's how we get legolas that appeared in the lord of the rings. less stiff, less angsty, less angry, even. through travels with aragorn he finds joy for his soul to feed on, and even though he is still a soldier — he is his own (and maybe aragorn's, shall he ask). and that brings me to my main point that i'll quote myself on:

«...in the 'council of elrond' scene it already felt present. it being the familiarity between aragorn and legolas. the way legolas jumps eagerly to defend an honor of aragorn doesn't really seem to be just he's a king!, but more like he's a fucking king, you moron, how dare you disrespect my friend like that?!!. along with plain respect legolas clearly shows towards aragorn, there's also this genuine reverence/veneration (i'm not sure which word to choose as i'm not native to english language) that legolas has — such reverence that warriors have towards their trusted king whom they're ready to follow, protect and fight for as well as along side with because he trained and went through hardships with them. you don't just develop such an attitude towards a person who doesn't even adresses himself by his given name much. legolas knows who aragorn is and he will stick to it — even if aragorn himself doesn't want to accept the fact.

and from that, the decision legolas makes to follow aragorn on the quest and not much frodo makes sense. he trusts aragorn. he follows aragorn's emotional courage — the way he swears to protect frodo with his life and sword — and does the same.»

i have seen enough to think that legolas has all sorts of adoration towards aragorn. he's ready to follow him like a religiously-in-love general his king, he has a deep respect towards him as a comrade and he definitely trusts him as a friend/soul mate/any other form of intimate relations.

but legolas is still a soldier. he can't fully erase it and, something tell me, doesn't really want to — he is a proud warrior after all. and that only ensures me, that serving aragorn as a warrior is one of the ways for legolas to showcase his love and gratitude to him. that's his acts of service, as in love language, thing taken quite literally because that's what legolas knows best and he's going to utilize it to the fullest.

because he knows that aragorn relies on him, trusts him and not only just in battle. he knows that there's a big future ahead for aragorn and he doesn't urge him forward but walks side by side, waiting patiently when aragorn will be ready.

legolas, basically, found a mutual, meaningful connection and committed to it with a heart of a striving for love being and a soul of a warrior. and i think it's beautiful.

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tathrin · 1 year

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No one:

My Brain: okay so the Drinking Game in RotK is sort of funny yet also extremely dumb but consider, instead of what the movie gave us where we’re supposed to believe that Thranduil’s son has never seen alcohol and GImli is just the butt of every joke again, okay, what if we have a situation where Gimli, who is a clever-tongued little bastard who is not at all above getting one over on Éomer whenever he can (he insulted the Lady Galadriel!!!) just because he agreed to put the larger issue on hold until Éomer actually meets her—what if Gimli sets him up, right, by taking advantage of the fact that he knows Mirkwood elves don’t have any interest in ale, which means the odds are good that the pointy-eared princeling who’d never been more than ten yards from home before going to Rivendell has surely never drunk ale before.

But the way Gimli very deliberately phrases things makes Éomer think he’s never drunk at all before, so Éomer agrees to a drinking contest between him and Legolas, who has no idea what’s going on but is participating anyway because hey sometimes mortals are weird and he’s trying to be a good sport and his friend seems really excited for him to try ale, so sure, let’s have a drinking contest with Éomer I guess??? and Éomer gets his ass drunk so hard under the table that they’re going to need shovels to dig him out, and Gimli is chortling to himself the whole time because he knew exactly what was going to happen when Legolas Thranduilion, used to drinking strong Dorwinion wine in elvish quantities and nobody parties like the elves of Mirkwood; they party like they’re going to war because in Mirkwood, being happy basically is a way of waging war against the Shadow, okay, so Gimli figured the odds that Legolas could hold his liquor were pretty damn high, got into a drinking game with a mere mortal, and he completely set Éomer up...

And when it’s done, and they’ve scraped Éomer up off the floor, Legolas just shrugs and is like “so I guess ale’s not bad, but nobody will be offended if I say I still like my dad’s wines more, right?” and Éomer is all. wait. wait. wine? WHAT WINE? You sneaky inhuman FUCKS—! while Gimli asphyxiates himself laughing and Legolas just stands there slightly tipsy and wondering when somebody is going to explain what the fuck just happened.

EDIT: Thank you! I’m glad it made someone more than just me laugh. Here’s the whole scene if you want it.

#we're also taking advantage of the fact that orlando bloom apparently never knew what was going on during filming #so like...he doesn't even need to act in this scene is what i'm saying he's not SUPPOSED to know what's happening (i'm clever)#anyway that was part of the bizarre dream i mentioned a few days ago #but i thought this moment in particular stood out as something the fandom would enjoy so: pls enjoy #legolas #gimli #eomer #lotr #my stuff #lotr movies #alcohol #the lotr time travel revision dream #my writing

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kiatheinsomniac · 2 years

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Notes: I couldn't resist developing this modern AU a little more - there was just so much to be done and I love Thranduil's older, experienced and dominant role. I mentioned in Sweeter Than Poetry that he is a politician in this AU so I wanted to play on that idea with some darker themes hehe. Consider Sweeter Than Poetry the prologue to this AU.

Pairing: Modern-ish! Thranduil x Reader

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: themes of controlling behaviour

Covert as a Secret (AU)

You wandered around the office as you waited for Thranduil to come and meet you: he was on a work call and he liked to keep his work and private lives separate. You had been seeing him for some months now and you were still adjusting to the luxury that he drowned you with: you had your own flat now – much larger than your old student accommodation – he insisted on spoiling you with gifts that you could never afford on your own and you had come to find that it was impossible to reject anything that he offered you as he would never take no for an answer. He doted on you as a mortal and would always ask if you had eaten or drank enough that day when he called you and you honestly enjoyed having someone who looked after you as he did.

Legolas still didn’t know about your relationship with his father and you found yourself talking to him less out of guilt. This would very likely ruin your friendship and you would feel absolutely rotten for being the cause of strain between a father and son. No, it wasn’t entirely your fault and Thranduil was equally to blame but in Legolas’ eyes you would be the friend that slept with his father and his father would be the one to have moved on from his mother with his best friend - a much heavier blame. The two of you had decided that it would be best for Thranduil to break the news to him: he would do so in his own time unless your conscience began to weigh too heavily in which case he would allow you to tell his son, but only if you informed him beforehand.

Your fingers skimmed over a file that was out of place on the desk and left open: very unlike your lover who left his desk so meticulously organised. You were never really all that interested in Thranduil’s life as politics bored you but you wanted a distraction while you waited for him. You flipped the folder open to skim-read the first page and your face dropped. This was a plan for complete censorship of anyone who spoke out against him: mainstream media companies being bought by shell companies that he owned, pay-offs to owners of social medias to ban any content that pointed out grand flaws in his campaign, utter reduction of free speech against him while boosting his image. You turned the next page and found a few names of some opponents you had never heard of and what they had been blackmailed with drop out of the political sphere entirely.

You didn’t need to be an expert on politics to know that this was corrupt.

What would happen if he found out that you knew? It’s not like you would want to tell anyone: a selfish thought, you knew, but you had little interest in that sort of stuff and you enjoyed your life with Thranduil in it. Things were easier, you were happier and you didn’t want to get wrapped up in any of this shady behind-the-scenes stuff. You tried to set the folder back exactly as you found it and leaned on the desk to calm yourself for a moment. This was serious stuff and you absolutely shouldn’t know about it.

“As much as you might deny it, I really do think that you have a knack for snooping.” You gasped at the voice right by your ear and whipped around to find your pale-haired lover looming over you.

“I…” You didn’t know what to say, swallowing hard instead.

“What is it that you think you’ve seen?” His hands landed on the desk on either side of you and you found it impossible to meet his eyes. You shrugged.

“Nothing I understand, you know I’m not interested in all that political stuff.” Fingers pressed into your cheeks and forced you to look into his eyes at last.

“I don’t keep stupid company and you pick apart and analyse texts for a degree. What is it that you think you’ve seen?” His grip eased up to allow you to speak and, for the first time since you’ve known him, you were afraid of him.

“You’re censoring the public opinion, controlling what’s being said of you and making your image look immaculately clean. You’re blackmailing people into dropping out of competition against you.” There was a growing smirk at the corner of his lips as he tilted his head a little, gently pushing some hair away from your face.

“And what do you infer from that, little one?” He smiled at you like a barracuda and suddenly you felt like a damned goldfish compared to him.

“You’re hiding something serious.” He cupped your face in his hands and you couldn’t help but find his behaviour odd – it felt like he was trying to lure you into a false sense of security.

“Clever girl.” He drawled out before leaning in to kiss you and you hesitantly brought your hands to rest on his shoulders, wrists coming to cross at the back of his neck as you gently tangled your fingers in his white hair. When he pulled away, his eyes were dark and you felt utterly vulnerable under them as his hands on your cheeks skimmed down to wrap around your throat, “And are you going to tell anyone about this?” You quickly shook your head, eyes flickering between his to try and read some of his thoughts but he had years to perfect this mask and you would see nothing that he didn’t want you to. “Really?”

“I’m selfish when it comes to you.” You murmured, “I don’t want to lose what we have.” He seemed quite surprised by your answer and smiled, taking a step closer and backing you into the desk, body pressed against yours, “I’m already hiding us from my best friend.”

“There are people who would give you a lot of money for what you’ve just found out.” He tested.

“You already give me everything I need.” He groaned a little at your words and one of his hands went down to rest at your hip, very pleased.

“You don’t want to be remembered as the hero who stopped the tyrant?” His lips skimmed over yours and you sighed, shaking your head minutely.

“I’ve never been the heroic type… I just want a life with you and, by the looks of it, I couldn’t really stop you if I tried.” He heard a double meaning to your words that you didn’t register until they left your mouth and you melted into his body when he kissed you again: slowly, carefully, in the way that a predator would stalk prey. His hands roamed over your curves and you tugged softly at his hair again as he licked into your mouth and pulled away to press a hot kiss beneath your ear.

“One of the many things I like about you: you don’t ask the wrong questions.” Another peck to your lips and, despite your heart racing, you craved for the dominating feeling of his hands around your throat again. Perhaps your thoughts were too blatant on your face because that smile of his quickly returned and he was looking at you with endearment. “You have that look in your eyes.” He teased.

“What look?” You murmured, reaching up on your toes for another kiss but it was impossible to do so if he didn’t meet you halfway.

“That needy one.” You looked away in embarrassment: sure he had utterly dominated you more times than you cared to keep count of by now but it was embarrassing when he caught you wanting to submit to him in less-sexual contexts.

“And so what if I want you? Isn’t that one of the reasons why you invited me over?” He found the combination of your hot cheeks and pouting lips utterly adorable.

“One of them, yes, but we’re going to collect your stuff first.” He took a step away from you and took your hand in his, encouraging you to take his arm.

“What? I didn’t think I’d be staying the night, you said that you have to work early tomorrow.”

“I do have to work, as you’ve discovered, and you’ll be staying for a lot longer than the night.”

“What? Thranduil, what about Legolas? I have classes, I can’t stay longer than-” A hand tangling in your hair forced you to tilt your head back and his lips crashed onto yours, making you gasp in surprise. He was soon teasing your lower lip between his teeth and his hand in your hair kept you close when he withdrew just enough to break the kiss.

“Haven’t I done nothing but look after you since you first stumbled into my library?” You nodded your head as much as his grip would allow, utterly lost at his sudden change in behaviour and the way he had shut you up with the kiss.

“So trust that I’ll continue to care for each of your needs and do as I say.” He whispered.

“You’re asking me to blindly agree, Thranduil…”

“You’ve let me blindfold you before, is this so different?” There was amusement in his voice. Your eyes flickered away from him, looking for some courage to speak up. This ellon could have you eating out of the palm of his hand if he so desired and you knew that there was something much deeper to whatever he was planning, you could feel it.

“It is, it… tell me what you have planned.” A lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth: he was trying to distract you.

“An evening of pleasure for you, that’s all.”

“Then why do I need to go and get my things?” You wanted to search those bright blue eyes for answers but knew it would be fruitless, “What aren’t you telling me? Whatever I saw in that file, I won’t speak a word of-” The way he quickly withdrew your closeness and steeled his expression made you stop. You had pressed too far too soon.

“I’ve done nothing but care for you and now you question me?”

“No, I don’t, I just…” You glanced back over to that stupid file and could feel your chest restrict anxiously. You never should have picked it up, “Something in you has changed now that I’ve seen that and I’m still not utterly sure what it is. Don’t you trust me to keep my mouth shut?” He sighed and reached out to caress your cheek with the back of his hand.

“No, I don’t, so I’m going to be keeping you here for as long as I see fit.” The widening of your eyes must have given away your sudden fear because a dark aura now seemed to seep from him. You would have to assure him otherwise if you wanted to alleviate the situation. Your hands dropped to one of his, covering it with both of yours as you nodded your head.

“Ok, that’s ok, I understand.”

“You’re saying that to please me.”

“I’m saying it because it’s the most sensible option.” You replied, “Your career is important and influential and you don’t want something threatening that, I understand. I’ll stay to prove that I can be trusted and because I know you’ll treat me well.”

“I just told you that I’m going to keep you here whether you like it or not and your reaction is to agree?”

“What else am I to do? Fight? Run? Where will that get me? I’ve done nothing intentionally wrong so I have no reason to do either of those. I’ll stay with you.” He laced his fingers with yours and smiled down at you.

“Why must you be so perfect for me?” He sighed, a finger crooked beneath your chin making you look up.

“Perhaps it’s fate.” You quipped, leaning onto your toes in the hope that he’d kiss you again.

“I thought fate was a convention of tragedy.” He hummed as he dipped his head downwards, breath softly fanning over your lips.

“Then I’ll savour you while I can.” And you pushed yourself up just a little more, enough to be able to sweetly kiss him, his hand squeezing yours when you both pulled away. The hand holding yours coaxed you to take his arm instead and he led you to his car.

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

When you returned to Thranduil’s grand home, this time with your bag packed, he showed you to a guest room down the hall from his bedroom and you got to unpacking, deciding to leave sending off absence emails until last. By the time you got your laptop out from your bag, Thranduil took it from your grasp and held out one of his hands expectantly.

“Your phone.” Suddenly, the weight of the device in your back pocket felt like a suit of armour and you weren’t keen to give it up in such circumstances, no matter how much you trusted him.

“Thranduil, I’ve agreed to stay, I’ve told you that I won’t share your secrets. Is this necessary?” Your brows furrowed and it hurt you to feel that you trusted him more than he did you.

“It is and I swear to you that I’ll return them tomorrow afternoon.” Which meant he would likely be searching through them to make sure that you hadn’t already put any sensitive information out there. You hadn’t, but you really didn’t want your lover seeing what you did with the combination of anonymity and the internet - yes, he knew all of your kinks and fantasies already but it would be embarrassing for him to find out just how much you read about them, let alone the things you had written. You bit on your lip as you reached behind you.

“Only because I understand how important your career is…” You said as you took the flat device from your pocket, “But no going through anything personal, alright?” He took it from your hand and held it with the laptop, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your brow in reward for your compliance.

“Don’t worry, little one, it will all be done professionally.” He assured you. “Go wait in my bedroom for me, won’t you? I’ll be there in five minutes.” A smirk played at the corners of his lips, “Try not to snoop while you’re there.”

“I do not snoop.” You pouted.

“If you didn’t then we never would have met and neither would you be staying here for the foreseeable future.” He replied with a little tap to your chin before leaving to go and hide your stuff Gods know where.

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

You woke in the night, reaching for your phone on the nightstand to check the time before realising that you no longer had it. You deduced that it must be somewhere between three and five AM because you felt ridiculously thirsty and that tended to happen within that strange window of time. You, instead, reached for the glass of water that Thranduil had brought you after that evening’s strenuous activities, downing whatever was left of it before settling back down, turning on your side to take in the sight of your lover. He was laid on his back, white hair fanned out around him, chest steadily rising and falling. The silken sheet covered his lower half and you knew that he was bare beneath, you both were, but the thought still practically made your mouth water, even after the amount of times you had slept together.

You reached out to brush some hair from his shoulder, fingertips tracing his bruised collarbone, making you smile to yourself a little. You were quite surprised when his eye cracked open a little and he took in a deep breath before turning onto his side and shuffling closer to you, throwing an arm over your waist and pulling you close.

“Is everything alright?” He murmured against the top of your head, sweeping some of your hair away from your face with his hand before his palm began to rub up and down your back, making you melt against him.

“Yeah…” You hummed, “I just wanted a drink.” You felt his lips press to the crown of your head.

“You fit so perfectly in my arms…” He hummed and it made you sigh in comfort against him, burying your face in his chest.

“I like the way you make me feel when you hold me.” You whispered and he held you tighter, feeling the way you nuzzled against his pale skin. “You make me feel safe. I trust you.”

“And I wish to trust you too but you must understand that I need to test that first.” A minute nod of your head. It stung a little, yes, but you could set your heart aside for a moment and understand his perspective with ease. “I will miss you every moment tomorrow and I promise that I will return as soon as I can.” He spoke softly against your hair and you wrapped your arms around him, adoring the simple skin-on-skin contact. “I want you to think me not cruel for keeping you here – especially not alone.” Your lips curled into a smile against his skin.

“I like when you’re tired.” You mused, “Your voice sounds sexy and you start speaking in an older fashioned way.” His hands squeezed your waist.

“I am inclined to say that you’re calling me old.” He mumbled and you tilted your head up to look at him.

“Aren’t you? In my eyes, at least.” He was trying to frown but it wasn’t really working out, his smile easily seeping through the cracks.

“Go to sleep, my sweet little mortal, you need it more than I do.” Another thing you adored about him, even if he could be somewhat overbearing with it at times: he fussed incessantly over your health due to your mortality. You once sneezed thrice in a row in front of him and he got right to finding the contact information of a private doctor, should you ever need medical treatment. He made you feel so utterly cared for in every way and perhaps that was why, like a fly drinking up the sweetness of a venus fly trap, you stayed and obeyed each of his commands and wishes. Had your life not immensely improved since you first met him? You trusted him to continue to dote over your every need, no matter how temporary it could feel from time to time when you let your mind wander to the future a bit too much.

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

When you awoke in the morning, you found yourself alone in Thranduil’s bed and turned over to find a cup of coffee and a plate of various fruits. A little card was propped up beside it and you blinked some of the sleep from your eyes as you propped yourself up on an elbow to read it: ‘I should be back at some point in the afternoon, little one, feel free to wander this wing of the house’. You sat up properly to help yourself to some of the fruit and the coffee that had already gone cold, not that you minded that.

So, you decided to busy yourself for the day: heading back to that guest room to shower in the ensuite there before making your way to the library, grabbing the first piece of fiction that caught your eyes before curling up by the fireplace.

The book kept you distracted for a few hours until your mind wandered to the fact that there were more files sitting on that desk yesterday evening. You understood why he couldn’t trust you with something so big but that didn’t mean that you didn’t like it. You bit on your lip as you thought about his study. Would he have locked it to keep you out? You glanced over to the direction of the library door, setting the book down and making your way down the steps, pulling your oversized cardigan around your body as you made your way back into the corridor and down to the door of his study.

Your eyes rose to the ceiling, looking around for cameras and, despite not being able to see any, you knew better than to doubt that there weren’t any at all. Your head turned back to the door handle and you slowly reached forwards to press down on it, feeling the door push backwards. You let it fall open and peered inside at the tidy desk, few seats and bookshelves. The files were still sitting there. You took one step inside to grab the door handle again and close it. You only wanted to know that he had left it unlocked while you were here, what you had seen in those files had caused enough trouble already and you weren’t keen to create more for yourself.

When Thranduil returned, he found you in the very seat in the library where he had once laid you down and covered you in his blazer on the night that you met.

“You went into my study today…” His voice spoke lowly in your ear as his arms draped over your shoulder.

“Only by a step. I opened the door and closed it again right after.” You tilted your head back to look at him over your shoulder, his face incredibly close to yours and you could see how his long, white hair was swept back into a ponytail just above the nape of his neck.

“Why?” He asked, lips brushing against your temple as he turned over the book in your hands to see what you were reading.

“I just wanted to see whether or not you’d locked it.” He let your statement hang in the air for a moment before his hands on your shoulders ran down your arms and you turned your head to capture his lips in a kiss, hands coming up to rest against the curve of his defined jaw, making you frown a little as you pulled away. “You’re tense.” You mumbled against his lips.

“Never chase a career in politics, darling.” He sighed as he rounded the couch to sit beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” You replied with a faint smile, reaching up to take his hand in yours.

“I simply wish for a quiet evening with you after dealing with that dwarf Lord all day.” He threw his head back to rest against the backrest of the sofa. “He’s still fighting to reclaim some centuries-old gold from the dragons but it’s not a matter that needs to be discussed in the Senate and, quite frankly, is a waste of everyone else’s time. Funding the Guardians should be a bigger priority with the way that these killings are getting out of hand.” You had heard all about the gruesome murders that everyone was talking about: the case had been handed up to higher-up law enforcement that dealt with crimes where magic was involved.

“We can have a quiet evening.” You spoke softly, setting the book down and throwing a leg over his lap to straddle his waist, making him tilt his head down just a little to crack his eyes open and peer at you. You coaxed him out of the silver blazer with its deep red inside until he was left in the matching silver shirt and his fitted grey trousers. You began to massage the tense muscles of his shoulders and he let out a sigh as his hands came to rest upon your thighs. You leaned in to press a kiss to his throat when your hands began to move down to his biceps.

“I’ll return your belongings to you soon, the agent I handed them off to was supposed to have delivered them in the day but he can become quite obsessive with his work so I suspect that he won’t drop by until this evening.” You nodded your head at his words, too distracted by the feeling of his muscles.

“That’s ok.” You mumbled, adoring the huskiness of his voice as he allowed you to melt the tenseness from his body with your hands. He slowly brought his head up to look at you when you allowed your hips to minutely roll against his, feeling how his hands squeezed the plush flesh of your thighs. “We should have a bath…” You suggested, fingers massaging the back of his neck and you peppered light kisses along his jaw.

His hands came up to cup your face, thumbs smoothing over your cheeks, feeling the warm flush of your blush beneath his hands. He tilted his head a little as he took in the sight of you, fingers skimming over your skin and wondering to himself what he would do should he be without you. He never intended to fall for you as he did, originally being content with sex and seeing you be spoilt by all the money and gifts he could shower you with but he found himself falling in love with the parts of you that were revealed in time: your loyalty, your intelligence, your affectionate gestures.

“That sounds wonderful, darling.” He pushed such thoughts aside for now, instead smiling at the squeal you let out as he took you up in his arms, carrying you towards the bathroom. Your life was fleeting compared to his and so he would make sure that he treasured whatever time he had with you. You rested your arms on his shoulders to smile down at him as you leaned forwards to kiss him sweetly.

P.S: I just can't resist making the reader an anti-hero, I just love that type so much <3

#thranduil x reader #thranduil #thranduil x you #thranduil oropherion #thranduil oropherion x reader #thranduil oropherion x you #RINGS and Things #elven king #elvenking #modern! thranduil #modern au

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esculentevil · 1 year

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Which member is more physically affectionate?

Which member is more verbally affectionate?

Hey!!! =D I'm gonna assume you're asking about Thorinduil? Since that's all I've been writing these days... Here's hoping I'm right!

Which member is more physically affectionate?

Thorin. Despite a lot of headcanons I have surrounding Thranduil and his elves (specifically that they share a common love language of care-taking: as in, them doing each other's hair, helping each other dress, cleaning each other's weapons, feeding or cooking for each other, etc. is how they say I love you [which, of course, has HUGE implications for Thranduil becoming closed off after his wife's death and the rather obvious distance it's put between him and Legolas; I do believe that they have moments where Duil does Las' braids for him and perhaps even allows Las to clean his sword as he cleans his son's bow/daggers, but Las' drive to prove himself worthy of his title and status as son and prince to Thranduil and Greenwood/Mirkwood/Lasgalen coupled with Duil's self-esteem issues regarding his inability to protect anyone during the fall of Doriath {even if he was a kid then}, his father in LA, his wife, his people when they go to war, his KINGDOM from Sauron in Dol Guldur or the spiders or orcs or whatever else makes it hard for them both to accept these signs of love from each other so it's rare]), and the fact that they're both introverts when Duil's not partying, Thorin seems far more comfortable touching others than Duil and would probably surprise him a lot during their first year or so together with increasingly frequent and easy forehead presses and hair braiding and kisses to various body parts because Duil blushes over that stuff a lot and Thorin likes it because it's cute and he glows (think that time he literally glowed as Dain insulted him in BotFA but it's not because he's angry but because he's swooning over Thorin).

Which member is more verbally affectionate?

Thranduil. While physical affection is easier for Thorin, and recently harder for Duil, verbalizing love has always been easy for our elf; but, of course, only in the form of things like affectionate insults, teasing, banter, and--his personal favorite--mildly offensive nicknames. Ironically, much like how Thorin enjoys flustering Duil with kisses and other physical displays of affection, Duil enjoys flustering (or just pissing off) Thorin with his verbal displays of affection--especially name calling--especially to the point of anger (and other things~). Duil's favorite things to call Thorin, at this point, are: Blunt Boulder, Tiny Thunder, Mini Mountain, Fairy Fancier (which is actually him insulting himself and usually a signal to Thorin that he needs a hug and that he should go have a stern talking to with Dain yet again), Light of My Heart, Truest Trinket, Rough/Rude Root, Tough Trunk.

Anyway! Yea! Here's hoping, again, that I got the pairing right xD;;; Sorry as well for all the headcanon dumping: just wanted to explain why I think what I do and maybe got a bit excited... But hey! This was fun! =D Thanks for the ask!

Until next time~ All my love!

#thranduil #thorin #thorinduil #thorin/thranduil #thorin x thranduil #the hobbit #ask game #answering #mythoughts #headcanon #a nymesis asks #terrible puns #affectionate names #affectionate insults

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the-red-butterfly · 2 years

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I Heard A Cry Tonight

Legolas & Thranduil (Tolkien Universe)

Pages: 1-2 l 3-4

OKAY FINALLY. The other two pages of my @gatesofsummerexchange gif for @blueberryrock. I know I took half an eternity to post this (but you know it was already finished). ALSO, I managed to change the original post with better quality images (look under the cut to see the horrors I was dealing with).

I hope you like it and that you can forgive how much it took me to post the second part of this vdkjsfbhdsk.

Also, also, here's the text that I didn't finish that I originally wrote to accompany this comic strip :D

The forest is green. In his dream, there are no shadows or evil things growing through the trick, no hidden things in crannies that might spring up on you without a moments notice, no things that might take your soul away. In his dream he laughs with his friends, those he walked with only yesterday and those who departed from Ennor long ago. The voices of his friends seem far away now and somewhere in the forest, he hears a pained sound. He wips he head towards the shade, words already in his mouth. His dream frizzles out of focus and out of existence. Legolas awakes to the quiet darkness of his room with a subtle start. He's sits up in his bed a little dazzled, a painful tug in his heart that he knows so very well. "Adar?" He asks to the darkness, words from his dream carrying over into the waking world. But his father is not there in the room with him, of course his not, it's been centuries since Legolas had reason to expect his father to sleep in the same room as he. He knows at once that he must go to his king, something is off. He can tell by the small uncomfortable twist of his Fëa, it treads him to his father since the day he was born, once, it had tread him to his mother too... He stands from his bead and barefoot he walks the halls of the Elvenking, almost deserted they are at this time of the night, but Legolas remains unbothered by this. There is nothing dangerous about this darkness, it is soft and known and kindly lit by small yellow rays of light from the odd lantern. It's home. The hard stone is smooth beneath the soles of his feet, his father's room is not terribly far from his own, the sight of the door is as familiar as his own. He opens the door without a knock, he's never needed to announce his presence to his father. As he pears in he hears a most quiet sniff. Legolas' heart pangs again. His kings back is uncovered in his sleep garments, a large nasty burn frames his left side like a possessive embrace, "Adar-" he says kindly, ready to come in and comfort him. But his father turns to him like a startled hare, eyes wild and horrified. "No!" He shouts sprinting from his bead and covering his face with an arm. "Don't come any closer!" With his other arm he attempts to fend off his son as he scatters away to the terrace of his room where he let's himself slip down against the frame to the outside. A mighty king curls up and shakes like a leaf at the mere gaze of his son.

"It's okay," Legolas offers kindly with a smile, knowing just how these scars wear his father and how the memories ill surface often enough. "No its not!" His father shoves off Legolas' hand from his shoulder with an angry jerk. "I look like a charged corpse," the king spits, he can hear the tears invading his words, making it wobbly and vulnerable.

Legolas sigs, dejected. He stands up, his father glancing at him carefully, as if afraid he might be left alone with his demons despite professing his want to be on his lonesome. The young elf walks in front of him and sits down with grace. He looks at this father straight on, or as much as the king will allow him. "Yes, you look like a charred corpse," Legolas confirms quite bluntly. His father flinches away from the statement, closing his eyes in shame.

Open for Commissions

V1 and V2

Look at what I had to deal with, that awful quality, the colors are so burnt 🤢 🤮

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 2 years

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Thranduil and Josie Part 59- Mother

Summary: Josie wakes up and she's not in the dungeon anymore. Some hot lovin takes place. Haldir , Legolas, Aragorn and company hunt for Kate in the dark forest. Haldir takes charge. Danger arises for the group. Someone helps them. Kate baits Haldir. The Elvenking arises again. Thranduil's had enough and takes care of business. No one bullies the King of Mirkwood and gets away with it. No one hurts or threatens his wife, son or daughter and lives. Thranduil praises his son and Haldir for a job well done, but tension still lingers between the Marchwarden and the King. Garrett is soon to receive a gift of karma on his doorstep wrapped in a bow per the king's orders. Thranduil also receives a gift. A most precious one.

*Smut* *Death*

You heard a woman's voice. A very familiar one. Kate. There she stood with her glowing eyes.

She appeared frightened and was pleading with someone as Legolas made her kneel and placed his knife to her neck. How was he touching her without being shocked onto his ass? You stood in the distance with Haldir at your side. He was staring at her with a look of disgust on his face, but he didn't acknowledge you. It was like you weren't even there. Where was there? You couldn't make out your surroundings. It was all black.

You then saw Thranduil appear from the darkness with an expressionless face. The face of the Elvenking.

You awoke with a loud inhale to find yourself in bed with a sleeping naked Thranduil. You stared at his peaceful face. Trying not to wake him, you traced your fingertips like a feather down his cheek but he sensed you. A smile formed on his mouth and he let out a soft moan as his moonlike eyes fluttered open. "Josephine, my love. How I have dreamt of waking up to your angelic face for so long. Please tell me it is not only but a dream?"

You held his face, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb and smiled, then laid your lips softly onto his. "Does this feel like a dream?" you whispered into his slightly open mouth as you parted from the kiss.

"I am not sure as all of my dreams of you were just as real. Even when I had lost my memory, I was haunted by them and would awaken in such the state I am in now." He glanced down at the very apparent hard on he had that laid beneath the blanket covering his lower half.

You then gasped. "Was last night a dream? We...we were in the dungeon. But... I am here? Did I dream it all after I had tried to..." You couldn't even say the words. After Garrett tried to make you kill Thranduil.

"No my Queen...it was very much real. All of it." he grinned and adjusted his hips as his cock was aching for you.

You sat straight up in a panic. "Thranduil! Then why am I here, how? How did I get here?? I cannot be here! I have to stay away from you!"

He sat up beside you and slid his fingers behind your neck. "I carried you here after you fell asleep in my arms. You will stay away from me never again. There will be no more talk of it. My wife and unborn child will not spend one more minute in such a place." he said in a stern but loving tone. He leaned back on the pillows and took your hand. "Come to me." His tone was so alluring and you could not fight him if you wanted to. You realized he was using his magic through his touch to calm you, just like he did last night. Just like he has always done and been able to do.

You don't think you had seen anything more sexy than the way he looked right now, except yesterday with his shirtless archery escapade. Ok, who were you kidding? He looked sexy every day in every sense of the word. And...he knew it. You were certain his shirtless stunt yesterday was done intentionally to show you there was nothing better than him. As if he even needed to show you that. You knew it the moment you first laid eyes upon him. But the yandere side of him, that jealous and possessive side needed to show you as he thought he was losing you.

The soft lighting radiated on his skin like the sunset had knelt down before him and worshipped his beauty. His platinum strands of pure sheer satin laid long over one shoulder, resting on his firm chest all the way down to his slim toned waistline. He held a portion of his golden locks in his hand and twirled it about through his fingers as he seduced you with his hungry bedroom eyes. Damn him. Damn him for making you want him so badly when the last thing you should be thinking of at this time is fucking his brains out. He had you....right where he wanted you and he knew it. So did you.

You went to him like he asked, or should say commanded and straddled his waist. "Come closer." he ordered as his eyes were fixated on yours. You rested your palms on his solid chest and leaned towards his face. His eyes were still locked into yours like some magnetic pull. "Touch me." He glanced down at his stiff cock that protruded out from under your folds and laid throbbing against his belly button. You glided your hand down the rippled muscles of his stomach and gently touched the tip of his earnest erection. His cock twitched at your touch and he laid his head back as erratic pants escaped his lips. He then grabbed your wrists and pulled you to his mouth. "Try again." His mouth laid open and you saw his tongue lightly curl. You slowly took his mouth into yours as both your tongues reached for the other. You slid your clit up his long shaft and rested your entrance on his tip. He sucked in a loud gasp at the feel. "Take me."

"Yes my King." You slowly slid him into you. The gasp he had sucked in he now exhaled heavily as his eyes rolled back. He made soft shallow thrusts as you swayed your hips slowly down on him. You were coming unhinged. Once he was at full penetration, your walls exploded. "Oh god...Thranduil!!"

He was shocked you came so quickly and he loved every minute of it, knowing he could take you over the edge so easily. Your face and erotic moans turned him on something fierce and he found himself unwillingly releasing with you. He sat up and pushed you back to the foot of the bed and laid upon you, thrusting back into you hard and deep. You were so wet from his release, he could hardly take it as he slipped in and out of you from his tip to base, fast and steady. He laid his thumb on your clit and caressed it as his hips swayed in a circular motion. The aching tingle rose strong and hard through your lower stomach and you climaxed again, arching your back and bucking your hips. He went dead weight onto you as he grinded against your hips, then stopped moving. The loudest groan came out of him and his hips shook vigorously as he busted inside of you. This made you start rocking your hips up into him again. "Thranduil...don't....stop..."

He smiled at you and licked his tongue over your teeth and whispered. "The thought never crossed my mind. I could do this for hours." You knew he could too. An elf's sex drive was out of this world. He rolled you onto your stomach. Oh god you loved this position as it took him inside you to the deepest of levels which never allowed you to last more than a minute. He knew that and also knew it was true for him as well so he teased you for a bit with the tip of his cock. He rubbed it over your clit and through your folds, then slid only the head of his shaft into your entrance and pulling out, gliding back down through your wet folds to your clit. He repeated this multiple times as you panted and rocked your hips up and down. Even this was driving him close to losing it so as his tip came back to your entrance, he shoved all the way in. You gasped in so hard as he laid snug on your back and grinded into you. His breathing became heavy and fast and his cock was painfully hard. He was going to cum. You arched your hips up which made him moan insanely. He wrapped his arm under your stomach and began pushing hard and slow and your walls collapsed around him. Your mouth hung open but no sound came out as it was that intense of an orgasm and he felt every beat of it. His face dropped into your neck as he held your hips up against him. He released and couldn't move as his hot breath burst into your ear in pulses matching those of his climax.

His hand came up and pulled your hair from your face. He kissed your cheek. "I love you Josephine." He pulled out of you and brought you back to the pillows. His lips caressed yours and he slipped his tongue slowly into your mouth, kissing you deeply. You whimpered as a tear fell from your eyes.

"I love you my Thranduil. Forever."

Legolas, Haldir and company, Aragorn included, made their way to the dark forest borders, knowing that is where Kate would be hiding.

The area they were in is where she was sighted and it was contaminated with the giant arachnids which is why she chose it. They all stood and conversed for a moment to go over their plan as Haldir knew the most about the cold ones and wanted to refresh everyone's memories on the do's and don'ts.

Haldir thought it best to separate in groups to cover more ground but Aragorn did not agree and they had a little spat about it. Aragorn thought they were stronger if they remained together.

Haldir was not happy about it as he has battled vampires many times but not the spiders so much so he gave in to his long time friend and gave the order.

As they trekked on, Haldir halted. "Im tur- smell hen. (I can smell her) Something is amiss. This is too easy. Orth- na naur!" (Raise to fire)

Here came the treacherous 8 legged beasts out of the darkness. Kate had called upon them just as Garrett had done in Rivendell. Spiders and vampires were allies per se. Neither cared for each other's blood but the arachnids wouldn't pass up a delicious elven and human meal.

"Leith- thúl!" (Release wind) Aragorn shouted. Legolas was already up in the trees chasing a spider down it's own web.

What he saw next shocked him beyond belief. Shelob. She had came all the way from Mordor, and she was bee lining straight for Legolas.

"Legolas!! Fall back!!" Haldir shouted and then Legolas's Guardian jumped in front of him firing arrow after arrow at the massive beast.

This is what Kate wanted, for them to use up all their arrows tainted with dead man's blood. But Haldir was much smarter than her. So was someone else. Gandalf the Grey. Staff in hand, he appeared from the trees and stood in front of the great spider Queen. "You...shall...not....pass!!" he shouted and slammed his staff down, shaking and lighting up the entire forest.

The magical light sent her and the remaining spiders squealing off into the darkness. It also knocked a certain vampire out of a tree. Haldir immediately saw her and drew his last arrow that he saved just for her.

She went to run and the skilled archer fired, sending the poisoned arrow straight through her shoulder and pinning her to a tree. Everyone gathered their breaths and circled around. The dead man's blood takes immediate effect so she was not able to rip it out. Even if she had, the poison was still inside her and she wouldn't have gotten far.

"Gandalf! How can we thank you enough old friend??" Legolas shouted with a smile.

"Anything for you son of Thranduil." Gandalf had always been fond of the Prince which is why he had helped him with his plan back in Mordor after saving Legolas from the spider sting. Gandalf hoped this would make things right with the King for his involvement in Legolas's scheme.

Haldir walked up to the ailing vampire. "The vampire fell so hard I could have shot her in the dark. Oh, that is right, I did..."

Kate laughed at him. "You will all pay for this."

"No dead one...it seems you are the one who is going to pay at the discretion of the Elvenking. And I will gladly watch. Your kind is an abomination. Your King is of no threat to us. After you are handled, the King will handle your King as well."

"You're a fool, all of you! Look what he has already accomplished with your beloved human! He will have her, just you...wait!" Kate reeled and spat at Haldir's feet. This enraged Haldir and he lunged forward at her.

Legolas grabbed him. "Haldir, Baw! (No). Do not touch her. She is not weak enough yet for her power to be useless to us."

"Haldir, Legolas is right. You must wait. She is baiting you. Do not fall for it." Aragorn said.

Haldir glared at Legolas and then Aragorn. "Sui cin iest." (As you wish). He then walked off when all he really wanted to do was kill her right there. But Thranduil ordered for her to be brought back alive.

After about 30 minutes, Kate was so weak that the arrow stuck through her in the tree was the only thing keeping her standing. She was finally removed from the tree and literally drug all the way back to the Kingdom. Even in her weakened state, she found the strength to taunt Haldir all the way back. He sucked it up but it was eating at him with the things she was saying. The things she was saying about you.

Thranduil calmed you enough for you to sleep and he went about his business as he received word from Legolas that the package he requested was arriving. He sat on his throne and waited. He was patient, for this was going to bring him much pleasure.

Legolas drug Kate up onto the stone platform surrounding the King's throne and placed her on her knees with his knife to her throat. Just like in your dream. Haldir stood to the side and glared at her. She was now frightened and knew what was about to take place as she watched the Elvenking descend from his throne.

"Kate Denali, we meet again. How unfortunate it is for you."

Kate shook and began to plead with Thranduil. "What I did...to you...it was Garrett's orders I had...no choice."

"There is always a choice. Like the choice I am making now. There are consequences to your choices. Did you honestly think I would let this slide? Are you that ignorant in your centuries of putrid existence?" Thranduil circled about her like a hawk achieving her intimidation of him.

M..My Lord Thranduil...if there is information you seek of me, I do not have it. Garrett does tell me his plans. I only follow his orders."

"I am not your Lord, shall I make that clear? I seek nothing from you...I only seek for a not so subtle message to be sent. It will give me great pleasure for your King to know his place. And now...you will know your place as well.

"King Thranduil...please. I have done nothing to your wife."

"No? You assisted in Garrett's endeavors did you not? Were you not lurking on my lands where you were found tonight? Lingering in the shadows to spy on me for him? You have crossed a line that you should not have. That line is my Queen. Not to mention laying your filthy dead hands on me. I still cannot wash the stink out of my mind. Garrett has hurt the one I treasure most in this world and he has also tried to kill me. An eye for an eye seems fitting. Just ask my ex wife...Oh that is right. You cannot because she is...dead. She had the same look upon her face that you wear now. It is quite satisfying."

"Thranduil...p..please. Show mercy."

"I do not know of the word. And now you shall know that. I have heard enough of your gibberish."

And with one swift swipe of his sword, the Elvenking beheaded the vampire Kate without even looking at her.

"Haldir, Legolas, Aragorn, Feren and the rest of you. You did well tonight. See to it Garrett receives his mates....remains."

"Adar...Gandalf was there. He fended off the spiders we encountered. Not only that, but you should know...Shelob was one of them. Also...Haldir...he was more than superior and defended my life to Shelob." Legolas informed the King.

"Yes....I am aware. Shelob is no threat here. My elven guard can handle her if she has an agenda. Gandalf's actions will not be forgotten. Haldir...you did well in your Guardian duties to protect my son. with that said...I still now of your thoughts. You are angry with me for locking Josephine in the dungeons as it was her request. That is what fueled your rage tonight, yes? Or is it something more?" Thranduil's tone was far from sincere on his last statement. It was very much more. Haldir's heart was in shambles as he knew you had went back to the King. He loved you like crazy and didn't know how to go on with never having your love in return. Thranduil gave Haldir a look and walked off swaying his sword back into it's sheath.

Thranduil went back to you. You were still sound asleep. He stroked your face and kissed your cheek. "I am trying so hard my love, to make this right. Even I am at a loss sometimes as I still feel right now." He kissed your forehead and went out into the gardens and on through the forest to a small clearing by a pond. A place his mother always loved....and where she is buried along side his father. A place no one knows of except Legolas. Not even you.

Thranduil flashed back to that dreadful day of the dragon fire war. he saw himself facing down the fiery demon called Smaug.

"Father...Please forgive me. For I am not worthy of you. You taught me all that I know and I still failed you and Mother. You left me to be a King in your place that I can never fill. I have failed my wife as well. One that I love as much as you loved my Mother."

Thranduil knelt by the water and stared at his own reflection. He envisioned his father as he had last saw him...lying on the ground at his feet as Thranduil faced Smaug and took on the scars he now bears.

Thranduil suddenly heard a voice call his name. A woman. He stood up quickly thinking it was you but saw you nowhere. He walked around as his eyes darted all over his surroundings.

The voice became familiar to him. He walked over to the graves that each lied under a stake of blue feathered like flowers. His mother's favorite color was blue. "Mother?" Thranduil called out. His Mother's voice came back loud and clear.

"Thranduil, my beautiful son."

Thranduil then saw an apparition of her appear all in a white light. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head to her. "Mother...it...it is really you?"

She smiled as white light glowed from her lips. "My Thranduil Oropherion, it is I. I feel your need for guidance. I have come to offer it." In all the years since her death, he has never seen her nor heard her. Why now? he thought. She reached out her hand.

Thranduil stood up and took it. "Mother?" he questioned as tears streamed down his cheeks. "I...I do not know what to do. I feel I have lost myself. The heavy burdens are sometimes too much to bear. My heart has hardened from the loss of you and Father. I only wish to make you both proud but I fear I have failed you with such."

"My son...You have not failed us. Your Father is quite proud of you as am I. We watch over you even when you do not feel us here. You are not lost and your heart is still of the sweet child I raised. The burdens are heavy yes, but you are strong willed just like your Father. And very resilient. A vigorous spring for which you are named after. You will bounce back from your troubles. You have the love of a beautiful wife to help you now. The true love I always told you about."

Thranduil sobbed. "I..I do not deserve her, I have hurt her so much."

"And yet...she is still here. Loving you as a twin flame would do. Her eyes are of yours. Her magic is of yours. Her child is of yours. Leeanduil. I gave you something and it means more than you know. It bears the color of your eyes....my eyes and now...her eyes. It bears my light, your light and now her light. It is a power that can conquer all your troubles. It is of Moonlight and Starlight. A powerful combination. When united, no evil can withstand it. But you already knew this as you have seen it. The two must unite and remain united. The power has been yours all along. You just need to see it for yourself. I love you my son. I am always with you."

She faded away as Thranduil desperately tried clinging to her hand. He fell back upon his knees with his head down and sobbed. He felt a hand over his and one on his back. He looked up and saw....your eyes.

Masterlist

@tigereyesf @redeemer46 @mirkwoodwarrior *Boom Bitches* 😎

*Coming up* Thranduil struggles with his Mother's revelation and appearance. Will he understand the true meaning of her message? Did his wife see what he saw?"

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unethicallypleistocene · 11 months

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Chapter 3: A Sword Proves Its Worth

“AE!” Kyrri screeched, scooting back only to hit his head on a nearby tree trunk.

“Nan i ‘aear ar in elin!” He cried in his mangled accent, further ravaged by his half-asleep state.

The elf wielding the arrow lowered it slightly, surprised at Kyrri’s exclamation. “Pedig edhellen?”

“OBVIOUSLY,” he snapped in Westron, his terror quickly morphing into fury. “Care to explain why you were about to kill me in my sleep?!”

“I was simply exercising great caution,” replied the elf, unperturbed.

“Next time, exercise caution away from my face,” retorted Kyrri, brushing off his clothes. “Who are you, anyway?”

“I am Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of the Woodland Realm, son of Thranduil,” he said, somewhat self-importantly, and Kyrri wrinkled his nose.

“Perhaps I should not have been so rude to royalty, though I must say you quite deserved it,” he remarked, rolling up his blanket and stuffing it into his pack. “Uh, mae govannen, in any case.”

“Well met,” he replied haughtily, looking slightly less suspicious. “What is a near-halfling such as yourself doing in the hills of Emyn Muil?”

“I am Kyrri of Imladris,” he said through clenched teeth, deciding to ignore the height jab in the spirit of diplomacy, “Or rather, I was most recently. Once again, I seem to be realm-less.”

“A vagrant?” asked Legolas, quite literally looking down on him.

“A scholar,” he bit back. “But what in Arda is a Mirkwood elf doing here?”

Legolas thought hard to himself for a few moments. “I cannot be sure that you are not a spy,” he said, and just as he was about to use all of his brain power to decide on his next course of action, a dwarf came speeding down the nearby slope and practically tumbled into him.

“Gimli!” he exclaimed, exasperated at the dwarf’s mere existence.

A spark of recognition grew on Kyrri’s face as the dwarf taunted Legolas with various zingers about delicate elves.

“You’re the dwarf from the Council of Elrond!” he said abruptly, recalling Gimli’s unsuccessful attempt to destroy a magic ring with sheer physical force.

“Technically,” he huffed, “but I am only the greatest dwarf warrior alive.”

Legolas snorted before remembering why they were all here. “You were present at the Council of Elrond?” he asked, brows knitting in an attempt to recall the event.

“Eh…you could say that,” said Kyrri sheepishly, not feeling quite comfortable enough to reveal his status as a chronic eavesdropper.

“Did Lord Elrond send you as strategic backup?” asked Gimli excitedly, as if he were expecting Kyrri to sweep aside his cloak and reveal a cache of weapons and a warrior’s physique.

“He did not,” he replied almost ruefully. “I owe a debt to a friend. I am on my way to warn Gondor of the impending attack.”

“Then you should join our company!” proposed Legolas, and both Kyrri and Gimli half-expected him to clap his hands in excitement.

“No, he should not!” interjected Gimli indignantly.

“Indeed, I must be on my way,” said Kyrri, nodding emphatically.

“There are orcs in these woods,” said Legolas, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “We must bring you to the Fellowship at once.”

Ignoring both Gimli’s and Kyrri’s protests, Legolas dragged them back to the riverbank with surprising ease and presented the shaggy dog of a traveler to the group as if he had found a new species.

“Gondor?” said Boromir, only now tuning in to Kyrri’s summary of his lacking adventures.

“Wh– yes,” said Kyrri, slightly irritated at the interruption. “My old friend Orthordir remains there. He is a general now,” he elaborated with a hint of pride.

“Ah, General Orthordir! If I recall correctly, I once attempted to engage him in conversation before he ran off, shouting ‘pain is your friend’ or something of that ilk,” reflected Boromir.

“Yes, that does sound like him,” said Kyrri grimly.

“So, you are not here to help us take the ring to Mordor?” asked a curly-haired halfling who had introduced himself as Pippin, a shadow weighing on his otherwise youthful features.

Kyrri paused, surveying the downtrodden group before him. “Truthfully, I do not know how I would be of service,” he said, suddenly feeling extremely guilty. “I am no soldier, nor a wizard. Speaking of, was Mithrandir not with you?”

“He fell,” said another halfling, presumably the ring-bearer Frodo, “in the Mines of Moria.”

“I’m– I’m sorry,” said Kyrri, more stunned than anything else.

“The Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all,” recited the halfling miserably, as if he expected Kyrri to know what the heck he was talking about.

“Yet hope remains while the company is true,” finished a figure lurking in the shadows of the trees, causing Kyrri to jump.

“Aragorn, you must stop doing that,” grumbled Gimli.

“Aragorn? As in Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur, Chieftain of the Dúnedain?” said Kyrri, his voice growing steadily higher in disbelief.

“Titles will do us no good here,” he said, sitting down to sharpen his sword.

Kyrri chuckled lightly. “Back in Rivendell, we were forbidden to speak of them. Of course, the same could not be said for the subject of yourself.”

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. “Had I been gone that long?”

“Oh, most certainly. It was always ‘When will Estel return?’ or ‘Have you any news of Estel?’ Of course, as the city’s second habitual traveler,” Kyrri gave a small mocking salute at that, “The burden of answering usually fell to me. I was often forced to remind Lady Arwen that I had not encountered you on the road, nor in fact had I ever met you in my life.”

Aragorn snorted, the air seemingly lightened at the mention of the elf. “Then it is a pity our paths should finally cross in this dark hour.”

“A pity indeed,” replied Kyrri, rummaging in his bag for the lump of charcoal he had haphazardly tied to a stick in a poor imitation of a writing utensil. “Right behind the Falls of Rauros,” he muttered, scratching his location into one of his many maps. “Proof for Lady Arwen, upon my return.”

Aragorn grinned.

“Right,” said Boromir abruptly, brushing imaginary dirt off his jerkin, “I shall go find some firewood.”

He walked off, and it was then that the company noticed Frodo had disappeared.

“I’ll go and find him,” volunteered Kyrri, picking up the massive and weighty shield Boromir had left behind.

“...It is not yours save by unhappy chance. It might have been mine.”

Kyrri heard Boromir’s snarl from behind a thicket and began hurrying toward the commotion.

“It should be mine. Give it to me!” Boromir lunged at Frodo, who had fallen on his back and was frantically scrambling away.

“Boromir, stop!” cried Kyrri, running over to shield Frodo from whatever madness had taken hold of the man.

“You will take the ring to Sauron and sell us all!” he roared, his hand hovering dangerously close to his sheathed blade. “Curse you and all the halflings to death and darkness!”

Kyrri whipped around and found that Frodo had somehow disappeared, leaving him alone with a now-psychotic Gondorian. Having thought of nothing else, he rammed his elbow into Boromir’s gut and sent him falling into the leaves. To Kyrri’s horror, he began to cry.

“Frodo! What have I done. Frodo, I’m sorry!” he cried out shakily, tears streaming down his face.

“For Eru’s sake, get a hold of yourself!” said Kyrri, holding out his hand and proceeding to haul the sobbing mess up and off the ground. “That ring really did a number on you, didn’t it?”

“I- I betrayed him,” blubbered Boromir, putting all of his weight on Kyrri’s shoulder as he apparently lost the ability to stand in his emotional turmoil.

“I mean, you did, but at least you did not stab him!” replied Kyrri cheerfully, looking around for the vanished hobbit.

“I am a disgrace to my people, to Gondor,” he sniffed, gazing shamefully at the horn attached to his belt.

Kyrri thought for a moment. “But if Gondor was willing to accept a useless stranger such as I, it would be inconceivable that they deny such welcome to a beloved warrior and defender of the realm.”

“Very funny,” coughed Boromir, trying to get the distress out of his system.

“It would be, if Orthordir had exaggerated the few mentions of the exploits of Boromir the Bold in his letters. Fortunately, he is usually too preoccupied with making himself look good that he often fails to have any room left for everyone else.”

Boromir chuckled weakly. “How did you ever befriend the General?”

The two started walking in search of Frodo. “I lived in Minas Tirith when I was child,” said Kyrri, “Which is why my Sindarin accent is so strange, so I’ve been told.”

Boromir was about to reply when they heard Aragorn yell from the summit of Amon Hen.

“Uruk-Hai!” growled Boromir, unsheathing his sword.

“I’ll find Frodo!” said Kyrri, running in the opposite direction of the oncoming swarm. Remembering the scabbard dangling near his legs, he unsheathed Dagrassaeb to find it glowing a brilliant blue.

“Amarth faeg!” he cursed, whipping around to see an incoming orc who had spotted him.

“Oh no,” he said audibly, trying to remember the meager swordsmanship training Arwen had attempted to give him before giving up entirely.

The Uruk roared ferociously and slashed at Kyrri, who leaped backward and almost fell over. Kyrri swung his blade into the orc’s, producing a clanging noise that was certainly heard by his fellow aggressors. However, Kyrri was more focused on staying alive. He desperately scrambled to parry each attack, with the Uruk growing more bloodthirsty with every failed swing. He held up Boromir’s increasingly heavy shield, only for it to be knocked out of his hands almost immediately. Kyrri was pushed further downhill in this mad fight for his life, and the sharpened hook at the end of the orc’s scimitar cut into the side of Kyrri’s face, producing a warm and sticky sensation that Kyrri could only imagine was a waterfall of blood. High on adrenaline, he slammed his foot into the Uruk’s kneecap with all the strength he could muster before slashing across his exposed arm. To his horror and delight, he found that the elvish blade cut through flesh like it was a pat of butter on a warm summer’s day.

“Sorry!” said Kyrri instinctively when his assailant let out a howl of pain. While the orc was momentarily incapacitated, Kyrri wisely decided to bolt while mentally cringing. Unfortunately, his short legs could only take him so far before the orc stood and started sprinting at full speed toward him. Just as Kyrri was about to begin shrieking in a very un-manly manner, an axe flew through the air and lodged itself in the Uruk’s skull, sending it crashing to the forest floor.

“Gimli! Thank you!” Kyrri panted, unconsciously deciding that a battle was the best time to mind his manners.

“There are more coming,” Gimli said, ignoring Kyrri’s winded state. “What happened to the wee hobbits?”

“I was trying to find–” Kyrri started before Gimli charged off to slaughter more Uruk-Hai. He made his way down the incline, dodging the ancient stone remnants and massive roots that lined the ground and made it impossible to run anywhere without coming close to tripping.

He soon came across a clearing where Merry and Pippin engaged in some kind of tackling maneuver on an orc who had somehow not stabbed them yet, and found Boromir skillfully dispatching the wave of soldiers hurtling toward him while blowing the Horn of Gondor with great resolve. Kyrri was thanking the Valar that he had not been spotted from his shoddy hiding place behind a tree when he saw an Uruk archer menacingly approach Boromir from behind. While Kyrri had known the man for a grand total of three hours and was not enthusiastic about risking his own life to save him, he was exceedingly unenthused about returning to Gondor with news of the steward’s son–his favorite son, no less–having died an untimely death. Denethor would probably find a way to rescind his school diploma. Thus, with a shout that sounded almost warlike, Kyrri swung Dagrassaeb without skill or cunning at the formidable Uruk without a second thought. His blade pierced the archer’s hide, and thick rivulets of black blood ran down its length toward the hilt. The archer, thoroughly distracted, whipped around to attempt to shoot him at close range, and so Kyrri wrenched the sword from the wall of flesh before him and tried to knock the arrow from its seat on the Uruk’s bow. He failed, of course, but the orc nevertheless dropped the massive weapon in favor of drawing a half-rusted blade, presumably to have more fun with Kyrri before striking him down. Kyrri stumbled back once more, and suddenly felt an overwhelming burst of pain in his midsection where the orc had kicked him hard enough to send him flying. He tasted a salty, metallic tang on his tongue as he heaved a shuddered breath and lifted his head to see the orc approaching. Spotting Dagrassaeb among the strewn leaves, Kyrri pulled himself up with a hiss and stumbled toward it. The orc slashed at him, and Kyrri narrowly dodged the attacks in what must have been a Valar-given miracle. Finally reaching his sword, he stood and spat a globule of dark blood mingled with saliva at the Uruk. He seemed to take this as a challenge, for he snarled something in Black Speech and charged at Kyrri.

“Mobility is key,” rang Arwen’s voice in Kyrri’s head, “Be swift, for your enemy will not be gracious enough to afford you time to think.”

Kyrri dove as the archer swung at his head, slashing at the orc’s legs and leaving deep cuts that began to weep. He was not slowed in the slightest, but Kyrri nevertheless batted the orc’s blade out of the way and cleaved the Uruk’s head from his shoulders. With his lacking strength, however, Dagrassaeb remained lodged in the orc’s throat and Kyrri spent several moments hacking away at the fallen orc’s neck with his pocket knife until his sword was fully extricated. The excitement of battle quickly melting away, Kyrri found himself struggling to breathe as he stood staring at the elvish blade, glittering black with globules of blood dripping unceremoniously to the forest floor. A voice startled him out of his reverie, to his great relief.

“Kyrri,” greeted Boromir, looking exhausted but very much alive. Kyrri nodded in acknowledgment, Boromir’s earlier outburst still ringing in his ears.

Pippin ran up the slope, jutting his thumb at the felled archer. “He would’ve shot somebody if it wasn’t for you!”

Boromir looked at Kyrri meaningfully. “I am in your debt,” he said, bowing his head, “I owe you my life, however low and undeserving it is.”

Kyrri wrung his hands nervously. “Oh, my lord, there’s no need–”

“You’re bleeding!” exclaimed Merry, running up to gesture at Kyrri’s face.

Sucking air through his teeth, Kyrri squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “It’s nothing, just a scratch,” he replied in a stilted voice.

The others appraised his injury, looking unconvinced.

“It is of no matter,” he said tersely, beginning to walk downhill with a slight limp. “We must find Frodo if–”

“Kyrri! You are alive!” crowed Legolas, hurrying toward the group with Aragorn and Gimli in tow. “We have seen Frodo and Sam on the riverbank, headed to Mordor alone,” said Aragorn darkly.

“Master Samwise still thought to bring all his cooking utensils,” said the elf fondly, shaking his head.

“I have driven him to his death!” abruptly exclaimed Boromir, throwing his hands into the air.

“Whatever do you mean?” asked Aragorn, visibly uncomfortable at the sudden display.

“I tried to take it,” mumbled Boromir miserably, staring at his hands, “and I very well could have, were it not for Kyrri.”

“Stop saying things like that!” Kyrri exclaimed, crossing his arms. He was thoroughly disquieted by suddenly becoming the center of attention.

“I cannot atone for what I have done,” intoned Boromir, kneeling at Aragorn’s feet, “but I am at your service, my king.”

Aragorn heaved a long sigh, leaning down to meet Boromir at eye level.

“Merry and Pippin live, and the company continues on its quest. No great betrayal have you wrought, son of Gondor.”

Boromir sharply inhaled, which Aragorn decided to take as a sign of agreement before standing up and helping Boromir to his feet.

“Sam and Frodo journey onwards, as shall we,” said Aragorn, hands positioned on his hips like a youth soccer coach giving a teamwork speech, “The only question, now, is where.”

“I am going to Minas Tirith, as I said,” declared Boromir, looking back at Kyrri. “If I might aid you in your quest to Gondor, I could perhaps seek to repay my debt.”

“There’s no debt,” said Kyrri frustratedly, “Except what I owe to General Orthordir. I will go with you to Gondor.”

“How are we even discussing this?” interjected a distressed Merry. “Are we to abandon Frodo and Sam completely?”

“They are on their own path now, Merry,” consoled Aragorn. “We must only do that which we can.”

Sindarin: Nan i ‘aear ar in elin! - By the sea and the stars! Pedig edhellen? - You speak Elvish? (informal) Amarth faeg! - Evil fate!

#errantry #pleistocene writes fanfic

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justabsolution · 2 years

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gimli didn’t know what he had been more nervous for. while it had been absolutely terrifying to meet the gaze of legolas’ father, the lord of mirkwood who fostered a well-documented hatred of dwarves, gimli knew that he did not have to remain in the company of thranduil if he did not wish to. if his own father disapproved of legolas, it would be a hard wound to overcome. however, despite his anxieties, he had to remain positive for his love’s sake. if he crumbled from internal pressure, he knew that it would only hinder the elf. “my parents always used to say that they did not care who i loved, so long as i was happy. i am certain that even my father is initially trepidatious, he will grow to love you.”

an elf. not just any elf, but the son of that blasted elf lord who was keen to keep thorin’s company as prisoners, a son which gloin felt he had already met once before, and not on any positive terms, either. if gimli’s mother were still here, gloin was certain that she would accept legolas with open arms, so he knew that he must keep an open mind, even if he bristled as the duo entered the hall. the first thing that gloin noticed was the stark height difference between his son and the elf, though he noted that despite legolas’ ability to walk faster than gimli, he controlled his pace to gimli’s. interesting.

@glcryled !!

#† 𝕘𝕚𝕞𝕝𝕚 𝕖𝕝𝕗-𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 ≫#gloin #glcryled #i may or may not continue to include gimli i just think legolas needed a lil pep talk #a lil support #bc gloin is a tad grumpy #as we know

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sotwk · 2 years

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The Story of Thranduil's Great Losses

My overarching theory about Elvenking’s broken heart is that he actually lost multiple family members over the course of the Third Age, in events borne about by the spawning of evils from Dol Guldur and the resurgence of the orcs in lands close to Mirkwood.

However, the biggest loss that hit him hardest was that of his beloved wife. Prior to being softened by marriage and fatherhood, Thranduil must have been a bit difficult to get along with. Based on his portrayal in the The Hobbit trilogy, we can picture him as arrogant, cocky, snobbish, stubborn, impatient, hot-tempered, and carrying the emotional and mental damages of war. Remember that he witnessed the Sacking of Doriath, one or potentially two Kinslayings, the War of Wrath, and likely one or two of the great Elven wars in the mid Second Age. (I’m not listing the War of the Last Alliance here because I think he was already married at that point.) Essentially, he was a grumpy, battle-hardened soldier who just wanted to live the rest of his life on Middle-earth in peace and free of care.

Eventually, he met an elleth who not only saw the goodness and kindness behind these flaws, but helped him temper his demons. She understood and respected his desires but also inspired him to fulfill his potential as a great ruler. With their union, they helped each other grow and under their rule the Woodland Realm flourished and thrived for about a thousand years into the Third Age.

And then, sometime around TA 1000, the Necromancer (aka Sauron) came to Amon Lanc and set up shop, turning it into the cesspool that is Dol Guldur. Thranduil’s blissful existence began to crumble from then on, slowly but surely.

Almost two thousand years later, he was still working hard to serve his people and sustain his kingdom which was being plagued by the Necromancer’s evils, even after he'd lost the beautiful home he and his wife built together and raised their children in. In his fight against the Enemy, he lost dear friends and even his own children (who, or how many, I will not say, because I have yet to write those stories!). The fact that an estranged Legolas was the one left remaining to him by the events of The Hobbit speaks to the extent of his personal losses.

After TWO THOUSAND years of enduring this decline, injury, and strife, can you imagine what a blow it was to him when, due to one weak, unguarded moment, Thranduil failed to protect his Queen and she died?

How did it happen?

Honestly, I am still working out the specifics in order to write a story about it, but in the meantime, I have some notes to share.

If we choose to subscribe to The Hobbit movie’s claim that the Elvenqueen died in Gundabad, (which I do, loosely, in my own headcanon history for the SOTWK series I am building), a logical time when this might have occurred was in TA 2793 during the War of the Dwarves and Orcs and the Second Sacking of Gundabad.

My belief is that the Elvenqueen was not a fighter, because her husband was already a renowned warrior who commanded a formidable army, and a more practical and fitting role for her would be that of a healer, ready to tend to her King and sons should they suffer injury. Elves who are healers generally avoid combat, because as Tolkien’s “Laws and Customs of the Eldar” states: “the dealing of death, even when lawful or under necessity, diminished the power of healing” (from “The History of Middle Earth").

Details of about how the Elvenqueen’s death occurred include my following assumptions: (Bear with me, because a few are leaps and stretches of imagination, although still logical in my mind.)

The Elvenqueen was Noldorin and a dwarf-friend, similar to Celebrimbor or Elrond (in Rings of Power). Since dwarves helped build the underground halls as seen in The Hobbit, a congenial relationship must have existed between Thranduil’s house and the dwarves of Durin’s Folk. I believe the Queen was the source of this, being a friend to Thrain I (ancestor of Thorin Oakenshield).

In TA 2770, when Smaug besieged Erebor and turned the Dwarves into nomads, Thranduil refused to give them aid (for reasons I can discuss at a later time--but I have a theory for this too!). At the time, the Elvenqueen was residing elsewhere and was unable to prevent this.

Twenty years later: Wanting to make up for past mistakes, the Elvenqueen persuaded her reluctant King to send a portion of their army to fight on the Dwarves’ side, arguing that the orcs are also their people’s sworn enemy. (Does the argument sound familiar? Maybe that’s why Thranduil found Tauriel so aggravating!)

The Elvenqueen accompanied Thranduil to the first assembly of the forces, to facilitate the interactions between her hot-headed husband and a still-angry Thrain II (Thorin’s dad).

After a few battles had been fought and won, Thranduil convinced his wife to return home. She was to be escorted by Elven warriors and taken by a safe route provided by the Dwarves, but due to either betrayal or faulty intelligence, the Elvenqueen was instead ambushed and captured by orcs and taken to Gundabad.

Learning of this, Thranduil rode to her rescue and engaged the forces of Gundabad in battle. But his efforts were in vain because the Queen had already been slain; the orcs had no intention of returning her and had merely tried to set a trap. All Thranduil found was her lifeless body, and he never had a chance to say goodbye.

It was Thranduil’s rage that cleansed Gundabad of orcs during that war. (Take his fight scenes in the movies and multiply by the fury of a thousand suns.) However, once this was done, he took his army home, refusing to continue fighting the rest of the six-year war. He blamed the Dwarves’ negligence for his wife’s death, which led to the open hostility between his and Thrain/Thorin’s houses.

Thranduil’s anger was so well known (and feared), that Dain Ironfoot (who wasn’t even there!) later made the movie claim ��he wishes nothing but ill upon my people” and called Thranduil a “faithless woodland sprite”, in reference to him not completing his participation in the war.

At the time of the Elvenqueen’s death, Legolas was already over 2,000 years old, so when Legolas tells Tauriel “there is no memory”, he means a grieving Thranduil likely discouraged any mention of his dead wife in his presence, songs of her are not widely sung, and images/memorials of her are scarce. “There is no grave” could mean that she was perhaps buried somewhere secret, not easily accessible, or not a typical resting place for elves. Thranduil's grief was just too deep to bear this.

#thranduil #thranduil fanart #thranduil oropherion #king thranduil #thranduil fanfiction #the elvenking #legolas #thranduil wife #the elvenqueen #the hobbit #lee pace #thranduil headcanon #lotr headcanon

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 2 years

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Wedding Night Bliss

ʚ Pairing: Thranduil x Fem reader

ʚ Word Count : 2348 words

ʚ Summary: You are a widowed half-elven noblewoman who has just married Thranduil Elvenking. It is your wedding night and what delights lie ahead for the both of you?

ʚ Author’s notes: This was a hard write, but I hope you will all enjoy it. The heraldry at the bottom of the post is for Mirkwood and was designed by me.

ʚ Extra: There was supposed to be a one off bonus follow up to this post, featuring Tauriel, Gimli and Legolas raiding the kitchens after the wedding feast, but that has now evolved into two possibles mini stories. The first story will be uploaded some time in May.

It was your first night as a wedded couple, and you were awaiting your husband's arrival.

The King grew interested after catching your eye during last year's Mereth Nuin Giliath. He had come courting, and his proposal caused quite a scandal, as you were half-elven, and both you and the king were widowed. It was a pairing no one expected, but the King's son, Legolas, was your biggest supporter, and he was genuinely pleased to see his father happy after so many centuries alone. He even went so far as to escort you to your chambers, wishing you nothing but luck and happiness before he took his leave of you.

You change for the night and walk around your new rooms, completely lost in thought, until the sound of footsteps and the scent of pine bring you out of your daydreaming. "You smell like a forest in spring."

Thranduil blushed at the comment. "In a good way, I hope."

He closed a door behind him and made his way towards you. "In the best of ways, my king."

You feel your cheeks flush with your boldness. Thranduil, however, is amused rather than offended by your comment. "Are you nervous, meleth nîn?"

You realise you are, as this was your wedding night with the Elvenking, of all people. "I am," you gulp as he looked at you in a way that made your skin tingle. "I mean, it is not everyone that gets to say they are married to the Elvenking."

"Indeed," Thranduil helps you out of your robe, leaving you in nothing but a night shift. Fingers grazing your arms cause you to shiver. "Would you like anything that could help ease your comfort?" He held up two glass pitchers. "Some wine or water, perhaps?"

"No, thank you."

You look around and think the bed would be more comfortable for you. While you make yourself comfortable, Thranduil gets a fire going to ward off the chill of the night. "Is that better?" His back was turned to you as he wandered around the room, lighting more candles. The soft yellow light was a welcome relief and served to lift your spirits. You find yourself looking forward to what is going to happen tonight. "It is much better. Thank you."

You lower your gaze when the King disrobes himself, leaving his chest exposed. He tuts and lifts your chin so your eyes are level with his. "You are my queen," he says gently. "You lower your eyes to no one. Not even to me."

He was right. Why should you be embarrassed? Thranduil was your husband, after all.

You scoot over to make room for him. Strains of harp music and distant singing float in the air, and the two of you are content to listen to the haunting notes that talk of a man who has found a second chance at love. The words were beyond beautiful, and you thought they were perfect for a wedding.

The King's running a finger through your hair startled you. "Did meeting my people please you?"

"Very much so," you say, smiling at the warm reception you received from everyone."Especially Legolas. Your son is quite a gentleman. You must be very pleased with him."

The compliment pleased him no end. "I am," the king said, inching his way closer just you did the same. "Just like I am pleased to have found you, meleth nîn."

His words made your spine tingle and you feel his warm breath fan over your cheeks as his lips hovered over yours. "Of course finding me should please you," you say saucily. "My king."

He tuts and narrows his eyes. "Impertinent little minx, aren't you?"

Thranduil playfully lunges at you, but you giggle and take off before he can grab onto you. "Making your king chase you?" His eyes lit up with wicked humour. "You will pay for that."

Laughter erupted when the king freed himself from the sheets and chased you all over his apartment. You find odd places to hide, taking off in another direction whenever Thranduil gets close enough to catch you. "Where are you, meleth nîn?" He would call out in between fits of laughter. "Come out, come out, where you are."

Just as you rush out of your newest hiding place, Thranduil catches you before you can take off again. "Poor form, meleth nîn," he delighted in your squeals and giggles. "Making me run around like this on our wedding night."

"Stop," you were incredibly ticklish and your sides hurt from all the laughing. "Thranduil, a moment if you pl--"

Your words died on your tongue when his lips collided with yours. It felt like the wind was knocked right out of you when Thranduil kissed you with a fire that shocked you.

"I tripped over a footstool," he mumbled huskily.

You drape your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself. Arms went around your waist and pulled you closer. His lips were soft and warm, and his tongue dipped in when yours parted for his. You felt like you were being swept away by the tide. "Oh no," you breathe.

You gasped when the king held you even closer and deepened his kiss. "Uhm-hmm. Nearly sprained an ankle," he mumbles again.

"Oh, you poor lamb," you couldn't help but moan when he nipped your lower lip. "Which could have alerted the palace guard in the process," he grumbled as he pushed you back towards the bed.

"And we could not have that now, do we?"

His chuckle came out rather hoarse. "No, we absolutely could not."

Without wasting another second, the king scoops you into his arms and carries you to bed. Soft pillows and silk sheets greet you even as the full weight of the king comes to rest on top of you. "Meleth, am I heavy?"

Sky blue eyes look questioningly into yours. "No," you reach up and cup his cheek. "You are not heavy."

Despite his relief, the king looked like he was struggling, and you had a good guess as to why. "Thranduil, you do not have to hide yourself from me."

"Are you certain? You will not be repulsed by it?"

He looks so unsure of himself, a far cry from the commanding king everyone saw. "I meant what I said when I accepted your proposal. I will accept you for all that you are. I will love you for all that you are. You do not have to hide your true face from me, I will not turn away from you because of it."

Thranduil's smile takes your breath away, and the mask of glamour he maintained around others slipped.

"Now," you carefully trace a line across the scars along his left cheek, so as not to hurt him. "Where were we? Oh, yes, someone said something about punishing me?"

Your smirk vanished when his lips crushed yours. His kisses tasted sweet, of the honeycomb he had after dinner. It had your heart beating fast as you slide your hands through his hair, causing him to groan and hold you even closer. "You will be the death of me," he breathed while the sculpted hand resting on your neck tightened by just the tiniest of degrees, making your eyes flutter. “It seems that it is you who will be the death of me.”

He smirked. “Perhaps... after a fashion.”

Your back arched as that hand tightened its grip once more. However, It wasn't enough for you. You want to feel more of him. You wanted him taking command of you. "More," you breathe. "I want more."

You never knew pale could grow dark till this very moment. "More, what?" came the gentle demand,

Pressure growing on your neck makes you gasp. "Meleth, do not make me ask again."

There he is, the Elvenking. "I want more of you, my king."

There was a sharp intake of breath when he kissed you. This time you feel long tapered fingers working on the buttons of your shift, leaving you exposed to him. You feel no shame, only pride when his eyes raked your naked body. "Meleth nîn, you are beautiful."

You reach up and kiss him, drowning out his words. Your breath grows as heavy as his when he pins you down with one hand while the other pulls away and explores your body, caressing the soft swell of your breasts, gently at first before growing rougher, causing you to mewl. "I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much."

"I love you," his words made your heart swell even as that sinful hand of his went lower, to between your thighs. A finger pushing against your entrance made your back arch. Deeper it went, curling up inside you, making your eyes flutter in a manner he found appealing. "Already wet," he crooned even as he inserted a second finger. You could feel the walls of your cunt pulling taut every time he went deeper and harder, his moans almost matching yours as you grind your hips against his hand with each thrust.

Wave upon wave of pleasure wash over you as the king takes you right to the edge of the cliff. You feel like you are about to fall off when he suddenly stops and pulls away again.

"What?" You force your eyes open and whine. "Why?"

He merely grins as he lowers his head to taste what was left on his fingers. "Delicious," he murmurs. Your response is drowned out by another kiss, but this time he goes lower, skimming along your jawline, your earlobes, the crevice of your neck. Teeth grazed at your skin, leaving patches of red and purple to bloom all over you. Lips trailed their way even lower, to your breasts. "Look at me," he orders.

You force your eyes open as lips encircle an already taut nipple. Blue eyes bore into yours as he sucked down hard, making your eyes flutter once more. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he didn't stop, your legs resting on his hips even as he runs his tongue over one nipple before turning his attention to the other.

Your need to be claimed grows even stronger by the minute. "This is not enough," you breathe.

The King kneels up in bed, his eyes darkened and clouded with lust. "Not enough, you say?"

He certainly takes his time undoing the laces on his breeches. "Hurry," you say without even realizing it. The King smirked. "Eager."

Your retort dies on your tongue when Thranduil slips out of what remained of his garments, leaving his body bare. And what a body it was. It was lean and appeared to be sculpted out of marble. No wonder mortal women envied elf maidens like yourself.

A blush took root when his already erect cock came into view. "Tell me, is this what you wanted?"

Oh, you have gone and done it now. "Meleth," his hand forced your neck back as he got on top of you. "Answer me."

How his eyes glittered even as he glared. "Yes," you sigh contentedly as his weight bears down on you again."This is exactly what I wanted, my king."

"Good, my little petal."

Kisses distracted you as his cock pushed up inside of you. Your fingers rake down his back, making him arch into you even more. "Temptress," he growls. All sense of control leaves you as his fingers wrap around your neck, keeping you steady even as his thrusts grew erratic and his breath grew unsteady with each passing moment. Crying out his name repeatedly, you feel yourself being swept away over the edge. "That is it," his voice shuddered as you close your eyes. "Let go for me, you know want to."

His grip around your throat tightened as your body gave in when your orgasm washed over you, pulling him in even deeper. Your muscles twitched and trembled even as your husband moaned louder with a final thrust as he came in you.

A tender kiss pressed against your lips even as you struggled to open your eyes. "Rest, my queen," the king eases his cock out of you and sits up, trying to catch his breath. "I will be back soon."

Through heavy eyes, you watch as he disappears into a distant room. The sound of running water reaches your ears, as does the sound of it hissing, like something hot had been dropped into it. Several minutes pass before Thranduil comes back to you. He massages your thighs, your body, whispering honeyed words to soothe you. He then takes you into his arms once more and carries you to the room he went into earlier.

To your surprise, you find that it is his private bathing room. A brazier filled with hot coals is by the window and a large copper tub, filled with fragrant warm water stands in the corner, and it is to this that you carried. The king places in your first and then joins you himself.

You rest against his chest as he runs a sponge over you, making you feel pampered. "Did I hurt you, meleth nîn?"

You turn your head and look up at him, touched by the concern in his eyes. "You did not," you said truthfully. Even though your body ached, it was a good ache, and you had no complaints at all. "Tonight was better than anything I could have dreamed of."

His smile was so stunning and you could not help but reciprocate his feelings. "We are now husband and wife in every way," he whispered against your hair. "Rest now my queen, and let me take care of you."

You close your eyes and take a deep whiff of the scents that filled the air. Lavender rising from the water, the scent of pine coming off of your husband.

"Gi melin, my king," you whisper as your eyelids droop and lips brush up against your hair."Gi Melin, my queen," you heard your husband say. "And I am honoured to have you in my life."

#for the love of silver elven hair #yes I wrote this during holy week because that is how I roll in the shire #Thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil smut #LOTR #the hobbit #fanfiction #creative writing #writing #writeblr

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