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sanisse · 2 years

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An Unusual Request | Thranduil x Lindir

For @medusas-hairband per a bunch of different conversations we’ve been having and a particularly interesting ask they dropped in my inbox. “Thranduil and Lindir. You pointed out they're an explosive duo, so maybe we can put consent play in here? I asked about it some time ago (and am glad you include discussions beforehand, and aftercare!), I thought just now that it could happen in Mirkwood - or on the slopes of the Misty Mountains, if you're feeling adventurous - and oh if Lindir wants to get out bruised. Scratches on his face and hands, small bruises on his hips and backside from the other's grip, bite marks all over; the whole package. Also, I see L wanting to know that the other is T, as some sort of power play.”

This concept really has me no thoughts head empty and has been pinging around like a microsoft screensaver. So I had to get this out on paper. Lindir/Thranduil is such a spicy rarepair and this is such an interesting kink for them.

🚨⚠️ STRONG CONTENT ADVISORY: this fic contains depictions of consent play between two consenting adults that some readers may be sensitive to or find upsetting, meaning there will be consensual dub-con veering into consensual non-con with social power imbalance in play. This fic contains depictions of kink negotiation, setting up of boundaries, use of a safeword, and aftercare. Please stay safe and consume your online content responsibly 🚨⚠️

Spice Level (1-5): 🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶 🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶 how many warnings can I put on this fic that this is intense & not for the faint of heart.

Pairing: Thranduil/Lindir (background Elrond/Celebrían/Lindir/Thranduil polycule)

Warnings/tags: rough sex, oral sex, impact play, restraints, servant/master dynamics, power imbalance, possessive behavior, praise kink, degradation kink, hair pulling, subspace, *slaps roof of fic*, you can fit so many kinks in this bad boy.

⚠️One last CW for consent play. Please consume this content responsibly⚠️

No Lindirs were harmed in the making of this fic. He’s having the time of his life and he gets loads of aftercare at the end of the fic.

This is quite a bit longer than I normally do but that’s because of the consent-aftercare sandwich necessary for the subject matter.

Minors DNI. Your media consumption is your own responsibility.

AO3 link in case anyone wants to read more comfortably or easily bookmark

The thought won’t leave him. He turned it around, considering it over and over again the whole journey to Mirkwood. Thranduil’s hosting the Autumn Equinox festival this year-- and perhaps it’s a bad time, he must be so busy and Lindir would never want to be an imposition. He wouldn’t dream of being an imposition...

But he doesn’t know who else to ask. Thranduil can be a rough, demanding, adventurous lover like so few can. Something tells Lindir that maybe his instinct isn’t too far off. Maybe, just maybe-- he won’t make a fool of himself.

He approaches Thranduil’s chambers when the moon is high. His hands are shaking. The door guard lets him in because they assume that Elrond has sent him on some important errand. They don’t ask why he’s here. Lindir is grateful that he doesn’t have to lie.

Thranduil is standing alone at the mantle of the great fireplace at the far end of the room, silhouetted in red flame, tall as an oak tree. The firelight glints off his hair. He has a wine glass poised in his hand, his body wrapped in one of those black, elegant dressing gowns he so favors. He is so beautiful. Linder always feels like a mouse next to him. Completely undeserving of attention.

When he spots Lindir, there’s a flicker of surprise.

“What does Elrond want with me at this hour of the night?”

Lindir winces, wrings his hands, glances at the door.

“My lord did not send me, my king. I--I came on my own.”

Thranduil waits for him to elaborate and mulls his wine in his glass.

Lindir takes a nervous step forward onto the rug and just as quickly rescinds it. Hazards a glance at the door, considering just leaving. This is so foolish--

“I--” he flushes red. “I must confess that I-- I greatly enjoyed the last time you joined my Lord and my Lady and I in Imladris and-- I should-- I should very much like to do it again. If...it would...if my king would have me.”

The silence that stretches between them is deafening. Thranduil regards him, gaze sharp and curious and almost...

“Sweet thing,” he mutters fondly into his wine glass. He takes another sip. “I do not think you would enjoy my games, Lindir.”

Lindir colors an even darker shade of red. He chews on his lip and ventures: “It is your games that interest me, my king.”

Thranduil eyes him over the rim of his glass, then says: “I would devour you.”

Lindir shivers. Wets his lips and parts them. Takes one emboldened step toward Thranduil. “That is what I came here for. I-- I want--” he swallows. His nostrils flare as he sucks in a sharp breath and then says: “I want to be fucked.”

He thinks he sees Thranduil’s eyes glimmer in the firelight.

“As I recall,” Thranduil begins, “Celebrían fucked you quite thoroughly. Elrond, too. So I cannot imagine that you have waited all this time simply for me to wreck you. So tell me, sweet thing: what is it you are really asking for?”

The question hangs between them. Lindir swallows. He isn’t sure how to ask.

“I--” he wets his lips again: a nervous habit. He shrinks. His voice is small and shy when he goes on. “I--I wish...I wish to be taken.”

A delicious shudder slides down his spine as he says it aloud. Thranduil’s eyes glitter again with something akin to surprise, then fascination. He still waits for Lindir to elaborate.

“I wish to be taken the way...a king--” a significant look cast Thranduil’s way. “Might take a servant.”

Thranduil cocks his head. He sets his wine glass down on the mantlepiece and closes the space between them in three easy strides. He towers over Lindir, a full head and shoulders taller than him, staring down at him. Lindir can feel his breath ghosting across his hair, imagines pressing his palms to the flat, strong planes of Thranduil’s chest. He’s remembering the way Thranduil’s mouth feels dragging down his neck. The sounds he makes when he’s fucking Elrond into their mattress for Celebrían’s amusement. The pure, whipcord power that infuses his every movement. If Lindir’s honest he’s been fantasizing about this for quite some time. He has always had these...unusual desires, but they had never worn a face until now.

Thranduil studies him. He seems to be thinking very hard. Lindir hardly dares to breathe.

“A king might not ask before taking what he wants,” Thranduil says carefully.

All of the air rushes out of Lindir at once. Relief. Excitement. He isn’t sure which. “A king should not have to,” he whispers back. “The servant would know his place. The servant would take whatever he was given, no matter the discomfort. No matter the insults rightfully cast upon him. No matter how humiliating.”

He hopes that Thranduil understands.

That hope is confirmed when Thranduil rumbles a half-feral sound in response. If Lindir isn’t careful, he’s going to get hard from this conversation alone.

Thranduil presses a hand beneath his chin, prompting Lindir to look at him. The expression in his eyes is so intense that Lindir feels he might swallow him whole.

“I am not gentle, Lindir. I can be. But I will not be in this.”

Lindir shivers again. “I am not fragile, my king.”

“Thranduil,” Thranduil insists.

“Thranduil,” Lindir corrects. It feels strange in his mouth.

“In this conversation we are equals, Lindir,” Thranduil says. His voice is stern, firm, still imperious, but there’s a touch of concern to it too. “I would know that you truly want this. I would know that you would tell me if at any time you wished to stop.”

Lindir swallows. Nods frantically. He can hardly believe Thranduil’s even considering this. That Thranduil might want him.

“Shall we use the signal Elrond and Celebrían use?” Thranduil asks.

The set of colors. Lindir is very well acquainted with them. He nods again. “Red to truly stop. Orange to take things a little slower. Green means that I am enjoying myself. In this scenario--” his eyes flick to his shoes. He’s blushing again. “Even if I ask you to stop I-- I don’t want you to. Only if I say red.”

“Elrond would not do this with you,” Thranduil muses.

It isn’t a question. Lindir still nods his agreement. That’s why he’s grateful for this rare constellation the four of them have. Lindir would never ask Elrond for such a thing. He already knows the answer would be no. Even Celebrían would struggle with such a role.

“When?” Thranduil asks.

When? Lindir had been hoping Thranduil would set the time. Lindir is busy, to be sure. Thranduil is infinitely moreso. “Elrond has no need of me in the capacity of a steward tomorrow,” he offers.

The corner of Thranduil’s mouth turns up in a half-smirk. That glimmer is back in his eyes.

“Then you shall hear from me in the afternoon. I shall not give you the exact time now.”

Lindir breathes a sigh of relief. It’s really happening. He can’t believe it’s really happening. “Thank you.”

Thranduil takes his chin between his thumb and forefinger and dips to kiss him. Soft. Dripping with passion. “Until tomorrow, sweet thing.”

True to his word, Thranduil summons Lindir around mid-afternoon. Or rather, the word comes: Elrond has summoned him to Thranduil’s chamber. They’re having a conversation. He wishes Lindir to bring a certain map Elrond had safely packed away in their luggage.

Elrond has no such map. Lindir pretends anyway, grabbing the nearest map he can find and following the guard down the hall to Thranduil’s chamber, his heart thundering away in his chest.

When he is let in, the room is empty save for Thranduil. The door shuts behind Lindir and he hears the bolt slide into place with a click that makes him jump. He’s locked in. The realization hits him with a sharp, twisting chill-- like jumping into an ice-cold lake. He’s shaking, he can hardly contain his excitement.

Thranduil waits. Giving him a chance to back out. Lindir takes a deep breath and fidgets with the map in his hands and says: “Lord Elrond wished for his map. Where is he?”

A slow, wicked smile slides its way across Thranduil’s face which makes Lindir’s heart race. Thranduil starts for him, takes the map from his hands and sets it aside.

“He is not here.”

“Then-- I should--” Lindir falters, thinking of what he would say, if this was not a game. “I should go to him--”

“Stay.”

The command is icy, sharp. All of the warmth has leached out of Thranduil’s expression and instead he simply looks ravenous. Lindir chews on his lip.

“I apologize--” he breathes. “I do not understand.”

Thranduil crowds him right up against the door. Leans down into his space so that their noses almost brush, and hisses: “Elrond wastes you.”

He is so much bigger than him. Barring him easily. If he really tried, he could slip out from between Thranduil and the door. He doesn’t want to try. Instead, he bites back a moan and remembers his character at the last second. Lindir squirms, tries to hotly say: “My king-- I should go-- I shouldn’t be here--”

Thranduil strikes like a snake. Closes his fist around Lindir’s throat. “I think you should. Would you correct your king?”

“No--” Lindir chokes out. He’s starting to ache between his legs. Can’t stop thinking about the way Thranduil’s towering over him. About how it’s going to feel with Thranduil finally pins him down and fucks him. “--I would never dream of it--”

Thranduil pushes Lindir’s head back, exposing his jawline. He nips at it, sending pinpricks of delicious pleasure-pain spiraling down Lindir’s spine. “Such a pretty little thing,” he hisses. “With such pretty little holes. Do you know, I asked Elrond? I am nothing if not considerate of another lord’s things.”

Lindir makes a choked, surprised, horribly aroused noise in the back of his throat. Thranduil watches him. Studies him. Makes sure he hasn’t gone too far. Lindir’s just desperately hanging onto this new piece of the fantasy Thranduil’s spinning for him, shuddering under the hand that’s pinning him to the door by his neck, hopelessly turned on and trying not to turn into jelly.

“Yes,” Thranduil says when Lindir makes no protest. The grin that spreads across his face is wolfish. “He assured me that you know how to serve your betters. You’ve got such a sweet little mouth on you. You know your place.”

Lindir melts.

The thought of Elrond giving him to someone else to use is scrambling his brain. It adds an extra layer to this dynamic, this delicious feeling that he is nothing more than a toy to be batted between greater men. He feels so hot he might combust and Thranduil’s hardly touched him yet.

“Please--” he whispers. He means to ask please fuck me, but that would hardly be in character. Instead, he swallows it back, pretending he was about to ask to be released and then thought better of it, because he is a servant and he would never dare to think for himself.

He’s sinking into that sweet spot he so likes: the spot where things go a little hazy. Where he can stop thinking about all the things he has to do. When he is no longer Lindir with all of his responsibilities and schedules and ledgerbooks. Just a hole. He so loves to be used.

He lets his body go slack in Thranduil’s grip. Lets his eyes fall submissively to the floor. Who is he to struggle? To deny a king?

Thranduil’s chuckle is dark. He swaps his grip to Lindir’s hair and simply drags him away from the door, down toward his bed, and yanks on Lindir’s hair so hard his legs buckle and he has to kneel.

The rush that hits him at the position is intoxicating. Lindir whines in excitement again. Looks up at Thranduil with unfiltered adoration. Thranduil soaks it in before snapping: “Open your mouth.”

Lindir does without hesitation. Thranduil pulls himself out of his trousers in one deft motion and plunges straight into Lindir’s mouth up to the hilt. There’s no preamble, no pause before he starts to use his throat, holding Lindir’s head in place and fucking him.

The best part is that he doesn’t even look at Lindir while he’s doing it. Thranduil’s gaze is hazy with lust. He’s fully focused on how fucking good it feels having Lindir wrapped around his cock and he uses him as a tool to masturbate with, and it’s all Lindir can do to try to breathe, stay conscious, and not come all over Thranduil’s boots.

Thranduil finally takes mercy on him and pulls out. A trail of Thranduil’s own fluids and Lindir’s spit ties them together. Thranduil collects it and pushes it back into Lindir’s bruising mouth.

“All that time serving your lord, and still you have not learned how to properly suck cock?” Thranduil scolds coldly before driving back down into Lindir’s throat.

Lindir mewls, chokes, half-apologizes and tries to suck. It’s just that Elrond is so rarely this aggressive about it. Lindir doesn’t care. He’s so hard, leaking into his trousers, because it’s so utterly delicious the way Thranduil’s playing this and Lindir’s completely over the moon about it. He wants Thranduil to wreck his throat.

Thranduil comes down his throat without any sort of warning, filling him up. Lindir chokes on it, writhes, squirms, eyes pricking with tears at the way his throat constricts and his stomach rebels and his lungs scream for air. Thranduil just pins him there until Lindir’s vision blurs and flashes white and he’s floating.

When he comes back to his body, he’s still on his knees on the ground. He’s come straight into his trousers. He’s wet with it. Thranduil is circling him, cock already starting to harden again-- if he flagged at all.

The question comes to his mind, bright with sunlight and green growing things.

Color?

Thranduil. Lindir reaches out to say: Green. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.

Thranduil dives like a falcon and pushes him to the ground.

Lindir tries to crawl, to beg: “My king, please-- please. I have served you, let me go. I must return to my lord--”

He loves the way his voice sounds fucked-raw and weak, even to his own ears.

Thranduil drives his boot down into Lindir’s shoulder to stop him, pinning him to the floor like a butterfly to a corkboard. It’s going to bruise, Lindir thinks in delight. It’s going to bruise.

Thranduil says: “Oh, I am not done using you yet, pet.”

If he hadn’t come earlier when Thranduil was fucking his throat, then he could have come from this alone. Lindir shakes and presses his head to the carpet to muffle the intoxicated moan that slips out of him.

It’s even better when Thranduil keeps him there, immobilized on the rug on his stomach, and climbs on top of him. Lindir’s heart is racing so fast he can’t think, too possessed with lust while Thranduil all but rips his clothes off and finds the toy Lindir’s prepared himself with.

He took his time that morning, working himself open with as many fingers as he could fit. Filling his hole with lubrication. Working it in. Plugging it up. He wanted the fantasy: wanted Thranduil to simply take him. To shove inside without any care for Lindir’s own comfort.

Thranduil moans in his ear and pulls the toy free, and Lindir trembles, keeps squirming as something blunt and large presses against his hole.

Color? The question comes again.

Green! Lindir all but shouts back. Please. Please fuck me.

Thranduil covers his mouth with one large hand, pinching his nose shut, cutting off his air, and then shoves inside of him.

Lindir cries out into Thranduil’s hand: a sharp, delighted, tortured sound. Thranduil groans and sinks his teeth into Lindir’s ear as he starts to fuck him.

“You really are made for this,” he moans out, “See how your body sucks me in? It knows what you were made for.”

Lindir mewls and lets his head fall forward, screaming into Thranduil’s hand with each thrust Thranduil gives him, fingers curling in the rug just for something to hold onto. When Thranduil lets him go in favor of cuffing him by his hair, yanking his head back until the curve of his spine is almost painful, Lindir lets out another ruined whimper and manages: “Please-- ah! Please, my king--please-- it’s too much. It hurts--”

He feels Thranduil pause for just a millisecond. To reassure him, Lindir pushes his hips back toward him, driving himself back onto Thranduil’s cock.

Thranduil takes the hint and gives him a particularly rough thrust that wrenches a scream from Lindir’s throat.

“Do you think your pleasure matters to me?”

“No,” Lindir babbles back, bubbling with ecstasy because this is exactly how he imagined it-- but it’s so much better, so, so much better. “No, no I would not dare to presume--”

Thranduil bears his full weight down onto him. Smothering him. Wrapping a hand around his throat and squeezing. “You are nothing,” he hisses out. “You’re just a toy. Just a sweet little set of holes to be used. You like that? You love it. Of course you do, you filthy wanton little creature.”

He hits that spot inside Lindir that makes stars burst across his vision. Makes his fingers go white-knuckled in the rug. Hits it again and again and again until Lindir dissolves into one boneless, endless cry of thank you, thank you, thank you and please come, please come inside me-- because he’s too far gone at this point to hold the scene. He’s so happy he could die. In this moment, Thranduil owns him, nothing else matters. He lets himself go limp, lets his mind blank out, becomes nothing but a sleeve for Thranduil to use until he comes. It’s what Thranduil deserves. He’s a mighty king of power, and Lindir knows his place.

The pleasure is starting to overtake him. Hot and unforgiving and perfect. His cock is trapped between his body and the rug and Thranduil won’t stop hitting that place inside of him, gripping him with fingers that are going to leave bruises in the shape of Thranduil’s hands and Lindir will be honored to wear those marks.

When Thranduil bursts inside Lindir a second time, that’s enough to tip Lindir over the edge into his next orgasm. Thranduil smothers the scream that follows, clamping his hand over Lindir’s mouth again and fucking him straight through it until Lindir’s writhing, shaking, and the friction is verging on pain.

Orange, he says.

Thranduil slows. Circles his hips. Nips the back of Lindir’s ear. He just stays like that a minute longer, seated inside of him, softening.

At last he pulls out. Then he spreads Lindir’s cheeks apart, inspecting his handiwork. Lindir moans and turns his head to the side, resting it against the floor, trying to imagine what it looks like: his hole dripping with Thranduil’s spend. He lets out another ruined sound. Elrond is going to see the marks later and it’s going to make him so possessive. He hopes Elrond will cover them with some marks of his own making.

“So pretty,” Thranduil muses.

Lindir’s fucked raw. Sore. Limp. He’s not sure he can scrape himself off of Thranduil’s floor even if Thranduil commanded him to.

Thankfully, Thranduil doesn’t. He peels Lindir upright himself and carries him straight into the royal bed like he doesn’t weigh a thing, drawing back the covers, tucking a pillow beneath his head. Then, he sits on the edge of it and traces a line over Lindir’s cheekbone with the crook of his finger.

The touch is gentle and infused with warmth. Lindir leans into it.

“Was I good for you?” he asks softly, voice hoarse.

“You were very good, sweet one,” Thranduil says softly. “You took it so well for me.”

Lindir makes a soft, euphoric noise in the back of his throat and lets his eyes flutter shut. He’s so happy.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

“I must admit I enjoyed myself,” Thranduil says with that same almost wicked, fond half-smirk. “Thank you. You are such a divine creature. I do so enjoy making a mess of you.”

Lindir melts at the praise, hardly able to believe that Thranduil --of all people-- would say such a thing. “I want to do it again,” He mumbles sleepily. Not now, obviously. But he can already imagine how the scenario might go a second time. He’s already aching for it.

“Not now.” Thranduil sounds amused.

Lindir shakes his head in agreement.

Thranduil leaves him for a brief moment. Returns with a glass of water and a damp washcloth. He hikes Lindir upright and has him drink some water while he wipes him down, and it feels strange-- having a king look after him like this. But he supposes Thranduil really meant it: in this, they are equals.

He rests his head in the crook of Thranduil’s neck. Thranduil sets both the glass and the washcloth aside and holds him, stroking the curve of his spine.

“You did so well,” he reassures.

Lindir sighs, exhausted, too happy for words, body still humming from pleasure, blissfully sore in certain places. He opens his eyes and reaches down, tracing the shape of Thranduil’s handprints on his hips.

Thranduil’s hand joins his, soothing over the marks. He kisses Lindir’s hair, his cheek, then his mouth. Each kiss is soft, more tender than Lindir could imagine him to be.

Lindir drifts off to sleep still buttressed against Thranduil’s chest. The next thing he’s aware of, he’s clean. His hair has been braided back for him, and Thranduil is wrapped back up in one of his dressing gowns and setting a tray with some hot chocolate and various snacks on the table.

Lindir sits up. Thranduil shoots him that same smug smile. “Elrond mentioned you liked hot chocolate. Here,” he takes the steaming cup and passes it to him. Lindir takes it, sips, lets it warm him from the inside out. When he’s through with that and munched on a scone, he curls back up into Thranduil’s side.

Thranduil holds him without complaint, and lets him sleep.

#lindir #thranduil #the hobbit #thranduil fanfiction #lindir fanfiction #the hobbit fanfiction #spicy #not for the faint of heart #please heed the warnings

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ohnonotnow · 4 months

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my library

here's some of the best the hobbit/lotr fanfics I've read cuz they can be quite hard to find and I wanna help

will update the list as I read

Thorin

Smoke, iron and Thorin

Fire and Gold

Learning Khuzdul

Braid of Gold

Thorin being soft

The Beauty of Chance

Those Hands

Misunderstanding

The arrival

A king's crown

Covered In Steam

There's just inches in between us

Thorin after a long day of training with his nephews

In This Moment

Agreement

Symphony of your life

Oh so quiet

Confession

Find Your Way Back

Fili

fili oneshots

Moonrise

The Most Unpleasant, Defective, and Abominable Incident

Stay with me

The Redeemer

Durin's Garage

Restless

Kili

The book keeper

insecurities

The beauty and the Beast

getting back at Kili for teasing

My Treasure

Madly in love

It's in his kiss

Love Bites

Sway With Me

Wood Carvings

Softly. . .

Sweet like nectar

A Shot in the Dark

Beorn

Early Mornings

Beorn takes care of you when you're injured

Linger

Legolas

Watcher of Wanderers

The Innocence of Brutality

Blessing

Sensitive

Being best friends with Legolas

Hazy Memories

Spellbound

Thranduil

Bookworm

Relax

Best friends father

Fascination

Flower On My Skin

To Meet Under the Stars

Passenger Princess

Autumn Thunderstorm

I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed

Haldir

Gentle Dark

Lindir

My Heart Is In Your Hands

Moonlight

Just a Little Help

Warriors Great Tales

The Fountain

Return to Me

Èomer

Burnt Bread

A Helping Hand

Wildest Dreams

Falling In Love With A Librarian

SFW alphabet

Happiness

A Roll in the Hay

Blessing

Turning Points

More characters

various characters oneshots

Imagine: elves having highly sensitive ears and you finding out by accidently touching them.

Journey to Erebor

Hair braiding

Elves + Braiding

What Type of Kisser is Each LoTR Character?

The Hobbit Characters + Physical Affection (Suggestive Version)

A Headcanon For Each Member of Thorin’s Company

Cuddling With Thorin's Company

Imagine some of the elves of Middle Earth find out how easy it is to make you (a human staying in Rivendell) blush and become aroused.

The LOTR characters reacting to a modern reader

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kat651 · 8 days

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How your elven lover kisses you/ shows affection

ℒℯ𝑔ℴ𝓁𝒶𝓈：

in public he’s a model of maturity. He offers you his hand and holds the door.

Will occasionally place a kiss on your hand or cheek when he can.

Will put an arm around you if you’re feeling uncomfortable.

When alone, he’s still gentle and caring.

Kisses all over your face.

Cuddles if you want them.

Thranduil:

he doesn’t care if your in public, he is going to kiss you.

Constantly pulling you to his chest.

Would carry you all over if he could.

Teasing you constantly.

Alone he’s insane. You’d think he’s been touch starved.

Holds you in his lap

Neck bites

Long passionate kisses

Falls asleep with you in his arms.

Haldir:

isn’t big on PDA the farthest he’ll go is gently holding your hand, but only if you ask him to or he senses your uncomfortable.

Uses a different tone with you than he does everyone else.

Once it’s just the two of you, he’s a completely different person.

Snuggles

Lets you play with his hair (always falls asleep if you do)

Butterfly kisses for days.

Clings to you like a child.

Elrond:

Will gently squeeze your shoulder as he walks past.

Soft smiles when no one is looking.

Not big on PDA.

once it’s just the two of you, its gentle snuggles usually while he reads you a book or plays with your hair.

Occasional kisses on the top of your head.

Is a softy.

Lindir:

to the untrained eye, you and lindir just seem to be good friends but there are signs, though only the people he’s really close to can see the signs.

He shows you subtle PDA by simple acts of service such as bringing you tea or grabbing something from another room that you may have forgotten.

If you’re sitting at a table, he’ll occasionally take your hand when he knows no one can see it.

Once alone however, if you aren’t each others center of attention he gets clingy.

Pulls you away from what you’re doing so he can have quality time with you.

Goes from soft and submissive in public to straddling you in the bed while placing kisses over your entire body. Is still gentle with you though.

Then suddenly, he needs you to baby him and hold him tight.

Loves to play lay with your hair.

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lem0nshark-writes · 1 year

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"Winter Coat"

Lindir x Male Reader

Type: fluff

Word count: 1890

Warnings: fluff, reader's an elf, some comedy, reader's in Rivendell's patrol guard, reader and Lindir are courting, reader and Lindir being cute boyfriends, reader's bit clumsy

Summary: something fluffy with the best boi

A/N: Lately been reading a lot of @/aeonianarchives (on tumblr) x reader fics and they inspired me writing this little fic hehe do check their fics out they are really good! 👀 anyways I was gonna post this for Christmas but yeah XD anyways for New Years it is XD Also I wish all those who celebrate a Merry Christmas and all you a Happy New Year! 💕💕

Translations: meleth nin - my love

"Oh meleth nin what has happened to you?" you let out surprised, walking swiftly towards Lindir who had just entered the front door of your small home, his winter great robe ripped from his lower back almost to his knees, one side of his robe underneath drenched in a cold wet smear of frost and rainwater, stressed out expression on his face.

"I was just enjoying some fresh morning air and the beautiful winter view outside and as I was heading back I slipped on the frozen patch on the floor... and ripped my robes in the process too..." he looked so visibly embarrassed with his heated up red cheeks and ears.

"Oh, my darling-", you moved your hands from where they stood holding his shoulders and hugged him tightly.

"How embarrassing..." he quietly let out into your shoulder, arms weakly hugging back.

"Oh it is alright it can happen to anyone," you comforted him, knowing his racing mind would see it as such a big deal when it really wasn't, "Don't you remember last year when I was late for my patrol and was rushing to meet up with Erestor and my foot slipped and I slid all the way right to his feet on my back nearly knocking him over too? And even lord Elrond witnessed that as well, along with you?" you chuckled and grinned a little remembering your embarassing situation, whose consequences followed you for quite some time afterwards with your patrol mates.

Lindir through his flushed cheeks bursted into laughter and giggles, covering his mouth slightly with his hand trying not to laugh at you but the memory was too funny to be able not to, "I'm sorry-," he managed to let out through his laughter.

"No it's alright it was really funny," you laughed along with him, "I did get onto polishing duty that night as a punishment but it was really funny nevertheless," you grinned.

"Yeah, I thought you slid all the way down some hill and Erestor had to pull you out by your armour and that's why you were late that night," Lindir burst into laughter again and you laughed along at the joke on your expense.

"Honestly at one point it was really close," you grinned and started to remove Lindir's great robe off his shoulders, as the two of you finally calmed down from your laughing fit.

"Whatever shall we do with your robes, my little bird? You don't have any other ones thick enough for this cold."

"Yes, but I will be alright don't worry, just going to wear an extra layer underneath-" Lindir began but you cut him off quickly.

"Nonesense, I'll take your coat to get fixed and till then-" you stopped rummaging through your closet, as Lindir quickly changed into new clean robes, pulling something out and getting up and handing him your brand new patrol winter cloak you were gifted recently, its back graced with the well known intricately embroidered crest with a mighty presence of it's own, "-you shall wear mine," you smiled happily.

Lindir looked at your cloak in bit of a shock blushing slightly, "No I-I can't- It's brand new and-"

"Come on darling, everyone knows we're courting, I think. Unless you wish to carry me draped around your shoulders as a coat to warm you up all day? But then you'd have to explain Erestor why I'm not on patrol all day," you grinned then smiled widely.

"You dummy harebrained elf," he chuckled, "Fine I will take it. But I know I'll get so many questions and comments and gazes about it."

"Even better, then you can brag about your sexy boyfriend to everyone."

He blushed at your comment and the funny pose you called "sexy" that you did while saying that, "You silly elf."

You smiled at him warmly, loving to see him smiling and laughing and happy, it made you whole being warm and fluffy on the inside and your heart skip a beat, just like the moment you first laid your eyes on him.

He caught your gaze and blushed again, lips spreading into a beautiful smile.

You smiled even more, slowly coming closer to him and placing a long kiss on his lips before fixing your robe onto his shoulders.

He blushed, looking at you doing it and standing still as you did.

You smiled once you did, taking a look at him, "My sir Lindir you're looking quite dashing today," you spun him around and proceeded to kiss the back of his hand afterwards when he turned back around.

He chuckled and blushed again, "You dummy-"

You grinned at him, pulling him close to your armour-clad chest and hugging him tightly, swaying a bit as if to music as you did, humming a little, "I don't wish to go to work, can't we stay indoors and cuddle all day?"

"I wish.." Lindir murmured through the fabric of your cloak, his face stuffed into your shoulder, " but we should get going. Lord Elrond must be wondering where I am already, and I'm sure Erestor is waiting for you too."

"Mhhh.. you're right," you let out a whine before responding.

Giving him a forehead smooch you peeled yourself off of him and fixed him up, him doing the same to you with a smile.

"Ready?" you asked, sighing a bit dreading the cold outside.

"Yes," Lindir chimed in agreement.

"Let's go then, I'll walk you to lord Elrond's, can't have you slipping and falling again and Eru forbid hurting yourself," you said as you draped your arm around his shoulder as he grabbed a couple of books of the table and then leading you both out, closing the door behind you two once you got out.

"Ah you don't have to, I'll be fine, I'll be more careful-"

"Nu-uh, I won't hear it," you mused intertwining your arms with his.

He sighed knowing there's no arguing with you when his safety is in question and the two of you made your way to Elrond's study where Lindir usually finds him in the morning.

As the two of you made your way through the passageways and halls Lindir's cheeks only grew hotter and hotter as passing elves shot him gazes and smiles.

You returned the smiles when glances were caught and only pulled Lindir closer, proud to have him as your boyfriend and so very proud to be seen with him.

Lindir too was very proud of having you as his and calling you his own, but he just got flustered very easily and was very very shy, despite how long the two of you have been together.

Whenever he'd look away shy you'd just rub the back of his hand reassuringly and shot him a warm smile, melting all his insecurities and bad thoughts away.

The two of you safely found your way to Elrond's study, halting at the big intricately carved wooden door.

"This is where we part meleth nin, all safe and sound," you smiled, placing a soft kiss on his forehead, which made his cheeks heat up and smile warmly.

"Yes, thank you for walking me to here, now rush off to Erestor before he gets mad," he spoke, worried for you getting a punishment for your inattentiveness to the time, "but be careful on frozen bits, don't need you scooping up Erestor this time."

You chuckled, "I won't.. hopefully-," you grinned interrupted by a clearing of a throat beside you.

"I see you've brought my assistant to me safe and sound," lord Elrond stood by half-opened door of his study, sly amused smirk plastered on his face, gaze landing on the long cloak draped across Lindir's back.

Lindir blushed so quickly, eyes widening at the thought of his lord seeing the displays of affection the two of you just shared.

"Yes my lord, I hope you don't mind," you smiled at him and then at Lindir, who was having a internal panic attack.

"Oh not at all," Elrond smiled, grinning slightly, his smile getting wider when his eyes landed on Lindir.

"Now I must leave, patrol awaits," you smiled at them both, shooting a loving gaze at Lindir, not wanting to attack him with kisses right in front of Elrond so he doesn't die of hyperventilation, "my lord," you took a little bow towards Elrond before turning on your heels and taking off towards the meetup spot.

"Haste your step, Erestor has already come asking for you," Elrond chimed after you, "and watch your step too," he commented, reminding you of your past incident.

"Thank you my lord, I shall," you blushed a little on his comment, bit embarrassed he still remembers that, and rushed off to Erestor.

Later that evening you returned quite late to your warm home, words of you day having had come to Lindir already.

Lindir was reading a book by the fireplace, two cups of hot freshly brewed tea on a small table besides him.

Hearing you opening the front door he stood up, smiling at you before making his way towards you, "Quite late this time, rough day?"

You let out a small whine as you slumped down on your spot, " You heard?.."

"Yes. Infamous Y/n strikes again, and this time doesn't miss," Lindir let out a chuckle, straightening you up and pulling you into a big warm hug which you gladly returned.

"It was so embarrassing, he landed right on top of me, and I got extra two hours of polishing duty as punishment," you whined, stuffing your face into his neck.

"So I've heard," he chuckled, rubbing your back comfortingly till you finally straightened and pulled away.

"How was your day? Did someone tease you about the cloak? Were you warm?"

"I-I was," he blushed a little, "so many people stared at me, and kept murmuring about it, even lord Elrond commented-" he blushed profoundly.

"What did he say?" you smiled, listening to your rambling boyfriend.

"He said I look nice in it, that it suits me," Lindir blushed even more.

You chuckled and grinned, "See? I told you."

"Hngghh," now it was Lindir's time to whine as he covered his face with his hands.

You chuckled and pulled him into a big tight hug, smooching the top of his head lovingly and then resting your cheek on top of it.

"Now let's not ponder on it, lets rather relax instead," you smiled, leading his form towards the cozy warm living room.

"I guess you are right," he sighed, "I made tea."

"Oh how wonderful, I love your teas, you make the best ones," you smiled excitedly, moving to your shared bedroom and removing your armour and setting it in it's place and getting all cozy and comfy in some casual robes quickly.

"Cuddles?" you asked with hopeful eyes as you returned to the living room, finding that Lindir has already gotten comfy in front of the fireplace, waiting for you.

"Cuddles," Lindir returned with a smile, blushing slightly.

You grinned widely and flopped besides him, pulling his body close and wrapping your arms around his waist as he chuckled and smiled at you. The two of you finally enjoying your evening with some tea and a good book and of course some very much needed and deserved cuddles.

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maximwtf · 1 year

Text

“memorabilia from battles.”

Lindir x warrior reader

words: 1820

google docs pages: 3

warnings: mentions of wounds, slight mention of blood, mentions of scars

opening: After coming back from a battle, You swore to Lindir you didn’t get injured. Later that night, Lindir accidentally sees the fresh scars you had hidden from him.

AN// reader can be any gender! You can also choose if the reader is a human or an elf. I’ve been thinking about writing part 2 for “I’ve got you.” so that’s probably the next fanfic I’ll post !^^

“memorabilia from battles.”

The battle was over, and the survivors were coming back to Rivendell. You had lost a great bunch of soldiers, but victorious nonetheless. Gazing at the worn out soldiers around you made you sad, many of them had lost people they had known for ages.

Elrond led the remaining soldiers to the entrance. His horse trotting in first, making everyone follow right behind him. You pat the neck of your trusty horse as it walked forwards slowly in the crowd. Lindir and a couple of guards were waiting for you as you passed the two statues near the entrance.

You saw Lindir's gaze move frantically as he was looking for you in the crowd. He wasn’t allowed to run to look for you, since he had to talk to Elrond first. You saw Elrond get off his horse, and slowly walk up to Lindir. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the conversation was soon over, and Elrond left his horse, also leaving the group so he could go and change out of his armour. You saw Lindir turn back to the group, his eyes still looking for you in hopes that you had survived. You knew he was able to see how many of you had fallen, since the group that returned wasn’t nearly as big as it had been when you left.

You heard him speak up. Commanding a couple of the guards to assist the horses to the stables, and for the injured to go and see healers as they were already prepared to heal the ones who would return. Lindir was most likely going to be busy today, since Elrond must have been tired after the battle, but that didn’t stop you from seeing him. You had to make sure he knew that you were still alive.

After the others had left to see healers, eat and get some rest, you were the only one left behind. Lindir had almost left, but you were able to call out for him. “Lindir!” You jumped off your horse, only holding on to the reins. He seemed to have recognized your voice because he turned around quickly, his eyes widening for a moment when he finally saw the person he had been looking for. “You’re alive.” He said quietly, you almost not even hearing it. “I was too tough for them I suppose.” You grinned a little, happy to finally see him. It was always horrible to leave him behind when you had to go and fulfill your duties as a warrior. You walked closer to him, wanting to hug the elf but you didn’t. In his words ‘it’s inappropriate’ which made you laugh, but you knew how he was with publicly showing affection. Instead, you offered your hands out for him, which he gladly took in his. His hands were warm and soft, your’s were cold and hard from training and fighting. “Melda (beloved), are you okay?” Lindir finally asked, examining you with his eyes to see if you had any wounds or even smaller injuries. You smiled at him, happy to see him worried every time you returned. As much as you wanted to be honest, you didn’t dare to tell him about the few wounds you had gotten, you’d take care of them yourself. “I’m fine, all in one piece as you can see.” You reassured him, thumbs caressing his hands calmly. He didn’t reply for a moment, only looking at you with worry clear in his gaze. “You should go and rest, I can get you something to eat.” He said, not really offering for you to go and rest, it sounded more like a command. “Then that’s what I shall do, Na lû e-govaned vîn melda (until next we meet, beloved.)” You replied. Lindir reached to get the reins of your horse, which you let him take. “Galu (good bye), I’ll see you at our quarters later.” You said, slowly walking up the stairs.”N'i lû tôl (until then).” Lindir said quietly, as he began to lead the horse to the stables.

You walked to the room you shared with Lindir, and began to take off your armour. You could already feel your muscles and how sore they felt. Lindir had been right, you really did need some rest and as quickly as possible. You took a look at the bed, thinking about how Lindir was still shy about sleeping in the same bed, even though you had started courting a good while back. He had never been too fond of fighting and it broke your heart every time you had to leave for one. You still didn’t understand fully why he had chosen you, but you couldn’t be happier with him. He was even understanding of your duties, even if he didn’t like it.

You set the armour down, stretching your shoulders which made you groan silently. You began to take off your shirt, slowly lifting it over your head, trying not to get your already tangled hair to become even more of a mess. Just before you were able to slide the shirt off of your wrists, a knock came from the door and then it opened. You cringed, already knowing who it was. Before you were able to turn and face the person, you heard a gasp. “Y/n!” You hissed a little, dropping the shirt on the ground in defeat as you turned to find Lindir standing halfway in the room with a small tray in his hands. He was looking at you with worry and sadness in his eyes, almost speechless. “Melda (dear), look-” You tried to explain yourself but Lindir spoke up before you could. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, his voice sounding panicked as he put down the tray on a nightstand.

You could feel his eyes trace the old and new scars across your body. Some of them had already healed fully, only leaving behind a faint reminder of the injuries you had gotten in battle. The new ones were still red and irritated, but none of them were still bleeding. You had made sure to take care of the bleeding on the battlefield, finding shelter for a moment so you could wrap something around them. “Why have you hidden these from me?” Lindir asked, walking closer to you. You looked away from him, in shame of the fact that you hadn’t been honest with him. “Lindir, please hear me out.” You muttered, taking the silence he gave you as a sign to continue. “I see your worry and concern, and I didn’t want you to feel that way. I was going to take care of them myself. Goheno nin (forgive me).” You explained to him, hoping that he would understand. The silence he was giving you was destroying you inside and outside but you didn’t say anything, letting him speak up when he felt ready to. “Melda (dear), you could have told me. I could have helped you.” He then said, hovering his hand carefully around the wounds he was able to see. You bit your teeth together when he accidentally touched the skin. “Sorry…” He mumbled, bringing you closer to him carefully, as if you were going to break otherwise. “Let me help you with these, it breaks me more to see you in pain.” He whispered so quietly you wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t so close to your ear. “Feel free to.” You replied with a small smile tugging on your lips. Lindir let go of your waist, gently leading you to sit on the bed. He opened the nightstand drawer, and after looking for a moment he pulled out something. It looked like tape, but you assumed that it was something else. Lindir cut off pieces of the tape and turned to you. “I got you some food as well.” He commented, putting one end of the tape on the other side of one of the injuries, stretching it to the other side so the wound closed up. You gritted your teeth together as he put more of the tapes on the wounds, closing them one by one. Every now and then he would quietly apologize when you let out small whines. You could see his expression twist into a frown every time he heard you groan from the pain, which made you try to be as quiet as you could.

Lindir finished applying the tape on the ‘worst’ wounds. You didn’t think they needed that much care, but you let him do it nevertheless. Knowing it made him happy to help you heal, even if the injuries weren’t bad. “Lindir, I’m sorry I’ve been lying to you.” You mumbled, breaking the silence that had been building up. He hummed calmly, offering you the tray he had brought with him. “I understand why you did what you did. But please, you can tell me in the future.” You took the tray he offered, smiling at him. “I will.” You started, taking a spoonful of the soup he had brought to you. “Gi melin (I love you).” You whispered out, the smile turning into a smirk as he was still able to blush when you told him that. “Gi melin.” He whispered back at you before he stood up. “You should really rest now. I’ll join you later.” Lindir said, taking a step closer to the door. “N'i lû tôl (until then)” You replied to him, continuing to eat the food.

You laid down, pulling the covers on top of you to keep you warm. “Posto vae melda (rest well, dear).” Lindir’s voice said from the door before he closed it. You smiled after he had left. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, since you were already exhausted from the battle.

The next time you woke up, the whole room was dark. No light coming in from the windows, through the thin curtains. You felt someone sit on the bed and soon lay down. Still half asleep, your brain kept telling you to fall back asleep, but even though that, you knew the person who had jouned you was Lindir. He turned to face you, seeing that you were only half awake.Not saying anything, he only placed his arm carefully on your waist, afraid he would hurt you by accident since the wounds were still healing. The action made you smile. You shuffled a little closer to him before falling asleep again.

#lord of the rings #lotr #the hobbit #lindir #lindir the hobbit #x reader #the hobbit x reader #lindir x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #x reader fanfic #x reader fanfiction

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melpomaen · 5 months

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A drunk Lindir a la asks 9 : “don’t shush me!”from @elithilanor

"Don't shush me, child!"

"You're being too loud! All of Lorien will hear you."

"So let them!" Lindir gestures wildly toward the window, the little wine left in his cup threatening to jump the rim. "My kinsmen should be glad to hear my voice. Varda knows they love the sound of my name on their lips."

"I think we have to at least pretend to be mature about it." Maenod says.

The point is lost almost as soon as it's made, Maenod's composure shattering when Lindir's face twists up in disdain.

"I am old enough to be your father, you know."

"Everyone is old enough to be my father!"

"Grandfather then. At any rate, you'll change your tune when it's 'Rúmil' and 'Maenod' on everyone's tongues." Lindir tuts. "Don't think you're so unknown. In fact, you and your dandelions already have a reputation."

"My dandelions? What's wrong with my dandelions?"

"Ai, what was it that I overheard?" Lindir hums, feigning contemplation until Maenod is waiting on the edge of his seat. "Something along the lines: 'Now we know the true measure of Rúmil's fondness for him, to suffer having his hair all pinned up with weeds–' "

"Weeds!?" Maenod cries, jumping from his seat. "They're a fine and noble flower!"

Lindir's laughter rings out from the talan as he topples from his perch on the divan, the crash audible from the forest below. He resigns himself to the floor, helpless to the sight of his friend's incensed hopping.

"Reportedly," Lindir manages to wheeze. "Your warden replied the same."

"He had better!" Maenod snaps. "Alas! Weeds! Their elanors can thank my weeds for moving the soil their gentile roots can't reach."

Maenod throws up his hands, unable to find the words to express his discontent.

"Weeds, Lindir!"

"Aye!"

"Fucking ridiculous." The scribe mutters, dropping back down into his chair.

"Careful now. All of Lorien will hear you."

"All of Lorien shall suffer me until my weeds are given their due respect!"

"How Noldorin of you."

"It's bullshit, is what it is."

"So we've come to an agreement." Lindir snorts. "And then remember, where my name is concerned the Galadhrim gossip about far more than my taste in flowers!"

#43 from this drabble prompt list.

@elithilanor

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sotwk · 1 year

Text

First Sight (Thranduil x OC Wife fanfic)

Summary: At an autumn feast in Lorinand, Lady Maereth lays eyes for the first time on Thranduil Oropherion, the Sindar prince who would one day become her husband.

Chapter One of a series about the early friendship of Thranduil and Maereth, called "Sins of Our Fathers".

Pairing: Thranduil X FemOC (Reader/2nd Person POV is Maereth, his OC wife in my "Sons of the Woodland King" universe.)

Supporting canon characters: Celebrian, Lindir

Word count: 2.2k

Content: Budding romance, friendship, fluff, mild angst, Second Age events, Thranduil as a party free-spirited prince

Warnings: None

To Read on AO3: Link

Dedication: For my lovely new mutual, @ethuil-flower. She has just started a beautiful Thranduil-centered blog and I am so honored she has chosen to reblog many of my posts on it! Thank you for your kind support, mellon nin!

A/N: If you would like to be tagged in future Thranduil fics, please just say so in comments/reblog/DM!

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

Sins of Our Fathers

Chapter One: First Sight

Second Age 1358

Egladil in Lorinand, Kingdom of Amdir

The Mereth Nuin Giliath is too important for you to miss, or so Celebrian insisted, when she implored you to join her and Nimeithel at the feast that evening. You had stumbled through your attempts to decline her earnest invitation, aware that your standard excuses would not suffice on this occasion. For it was true that all the people of Lorinand were expected to gather by the banks of the Celebrant to celebrate as a community, and withholding your attendance would be seen as terribly impolite towards your host. Lady Galadriel had been unceasingly kind and generous towards you since your unexpected arrival a fortnight ago. If her daughter truly wished for your company, obliging her would be but a small repayment.

By twilight, the sprawling green meadows of Egladil come alive with unnumbered revelers milling about the laden food tables and wine stations. The lively melodies of flute, lute, harp carry over the crowd’s voices to greet you as you arrive, walking just a few paces behind the cousins, two ethereally lovely maidens of silver hair and laughing eyes. Celebrian and Nimeithel draw the gazes of nearly every ellon they pass, gazes that you hope to avoid by keeping yours pinned to the ground.

But you catch yourself, steel your resolve to mind your manners, and rise above the impulse to hide away. The musicians on the central dais strike up a carola, and you are swept into a flurry of elves rushing together to form a circle. To your right, Nimeithel grabs your hand, and to your left, an ellon you have never met or seen before wraps his fingers around yours. His grip is gentle but sure, as bold and confident as the smile he flashes at you. At once the circle begins to turn, with every individual in it moving at the fast pace of the song, leaving you no time to think. This dance is not familiar to you, but you release your body to the music’s tempo, and your steps fall in sync with the rest of the group.

A few more songs later, you are flushed and out of breath, half from exertion and half a result of sheer mirth. A cup of wine is pressed into your hand and you join in the conversation with some new acquaintances. You forget to care who your friends might be introducing you as, and it seems no one cares to question your identity anyhow. You find it proven yet again that the Tawarwaith are exceedingly warm and unabashed in their exuberance, and furthermore have a gift for enticing the shyest of newcomers to join in their merriment.

“This is excellent wine!” proclaims Nimeithel, holding her empty cup aloft. Her fair cheeks have gone a telltale shade of pink. “But I’m afraid I cannot have another if I wish to stay on my feet for the rest of the evening!”

“It is stronger than any vintage I have ever been served,” Celebrian remarks. She had taken only a sip or two of hers before refusing the rest. “Is it from the King’s cellars?”

“I believe it came from Greenwood, my lady,” says the ellon named Lindir, the same one who had taken your hand at the carola and since then remained in your group’s company. “I saw wine barrels with King Oropher’s mark being delivered to the feasting hall this morning.”

“Ah!” exclaims Gwaerendir, one of the King’s kinsmen and--as revealed to you in hushed confidence--Nimeithel’s suitor. “I should have guessed. It is not Oropher’s way to send such a gift. This is his son’s doing.”

“Thranduil!” Nimeithel’s eyes widen. “Has he come to celebrate with us? Why did you not mention this sooner?”

“You know him as well as I do. It would be easier to give advance notice of a gale in a storm than of Thranduil’s comings and goings,” laughs Gwaerendir. “I know not for certain if he is here, but I would be shocked if he sent his best wine to a feast that he is not attending.”

While they continue their banter, Celebrian draws you aside to whisper, “Thranduil is King Oropher’s only son, the prince of Greenwood the Great. They were raised together in Menegroth--he, Nimeithel and Gwaerendir.”

The dreaded coldness washes over you at the mere mention of Thingol’s fallen fortress. The urge to run away from present company threatens to overwhelm you. Celebrian is quick to notice and slips her arm across your shoulders reassuringly.

“Remember my mother’s words, Maereth,” she says firmly. “You are among friends and have nothing to fear in Lorinand. You have our love and our discretion.”

You could not help but smile and draw courage from her stout declaration. “I have heard of the Prince of Greenwood, but did not realize he and Nimeithel were such old friends. Do you know him well?”

“He and his father lived in Harlindon for a time, before they migrated east. But I was just a child then, and those memories of him are few.” She links her arm through yours and steers you away from the rest of the group. “He would come to our home to visit my father. I watched them train with swords once, and when he disarmed Ada, it frightened me so much I cried.”

“How strange that I never encountered him then. It seems our paths should have crossed over so many years.”

Celebrian ponders this for a moment. “By the time you arrived from Mithlond, I believe Thranduil began to travel a lot, all across Eriador. I remember my parents talking about how King Oropher blamed Ada for influencing his son. But you heard Gwaerendir describe him--untamed like a storm’s wind.”

“Does he visit Lorinand often?”

“More often now that Nimeithel is here to complete the reunion of their trio.” Celebrian squeezes your arm in another effort to soothe your anxieties. “Do not let his trappings intimidate you. He is cut from the same cloth as Gwaerendir. I think you will enjoy his company. Or find it amusing, at the very least.”

But her well-intentioned statement only tightens the knot in your stomach. You cast a glance back in Gwaerendir’s direction, where he stands gesturing animatedly as he regales his friends with a tale. Handsome and charming and relentlessly cheerful, he has shown not a slight hint of the animosity many Sindar tend to harbor towards Noldor entering their lands. But you know his behavior is influenced in no small part by his devotion to Nimeithel. And he does not know the whole truth about you, a safeguard that can crumble with even a minor slip in conversation.

Distraction comes to the rescue in the form of Lindir, who politely interrupts to request a dance with you. The refined young elf-lord is easy company, and before long you find yourself alone with him, losing track of your friends after several turns on the dance floor. You mention feeling hungry, and at once he escorts you to the banquet.

Lindir exchanges familiar greetings with nearly every elf he encounters, and takes the extra step to introduce you as well. His gallant efforts to make you feel welcomed threaten to backfire as your anxiety blooms anew; calling attention to your presence is exactly what you sought to avoid. But as you take a seat at one of the long tables, you find most of the company are too preoccupied with their own enjoyment to pay close attention to a stranger in their midst. The Mereth Nuin Giliath draws visitors from as far as Imladris, making you just one among many new faces in the city. Your dining companions, with the exception of Lindir, interact with you very little, and seem more interested in their cups of the potent Greenwood wine than in asking you questions. Your nerves gradually settle and before long, you slip back into a state of relaxed, quiet enjoyment.

After partaking of the sumptuous bounty of dishes from King Amdir’s kitchens, you accept Lindir’s offer to take a stroll along the banks of the Celebrant. He is happy to continue doing most of the talking, and sates your curiosity with detailed answers to your queries about Lorinand, about his duties in the royal household, and every topic you use to divert the conversation from yourself.

Back towards the festivities, you hear distant voices rise together in a shared song. You stop to listen more closely, moved by the sweetness of the unfamiliar hymn. Suddenly an even more melodious voice graces your ears, as Lindir begins to follow along, first humming in a rich baritone before singing the lyric, which you then realize is in the Silvan tongue.

“You have a gift,” you murmur in shy but genuine admiration, for truthfully his was perhaps the single loveliest singing voice you had ever heard from an ellon.

He accepts the compliment with a gracious nod. “Do you speak Silvan, my lady?”

“Only a little, I’m afraid.”

He proceeds to translate the lyrics for you. The Iay narrates the romance between the embodiments of autumn and spring, of their tragic longing to be together, but their differences in nature would not allow it.

“Is that not a rather somber topic to sing about at a festival?”

“That may be so, but it is a tradition as old as the Mereth itself,” Lindir chuckled. “Many of us Tawarwaith learned the song from our cribs. And you will find that our people do not unnecessarily constrain ourselves with rules and convention. It is a beloved melody and so we will sing it no matter the occasion.”

You smile, knowing the implied comparison to the Noldor, your kin, who perhaps obsessed far too much about customs and propriety. “I will admit, that does sound liberating.”

Lindir tilts his head and studies you for a moment with an intent, but not ungentle, stare. “If I may,” he finally says. “Your eyes… I have never seen such colored eyes before. They are extraordinary.”

Startled by the compliment, you divert your gaze like a thief caught red-handed, even as you respond with a soft, “Thank you.” The way the hue of your eyes shift back and forth from green to gold is not within your control, but it is subtle enough that most people do not notice it, unless they have been staring at your face for a good while.

You did not realize Lindir had been looking at you that closely.

It is not the ellon’s interest that flusters you, however. It is the attention called to this very rare physical trait that, as far as you know, was bequeathed to you by your mother, and her mother before her. It linked you unequivocally to a lineage that you are in a constant battle to obfuscate.

"If I embarrassed you Lady Maereth, I do apologize," Lindir says to cut the awkward silence. "I am not usually so forward."

Before reassurances can leave your lips, your attention is redirected to Celebrant's flowing waters, where a distant shape materializes from behind the trees running along the curved bank, drifting lazily downstream in your direction.

Peals of silvery laughter rise above the river's steady babble, announcing the presence of passengers upon the approaching boat. As the vessel comes into clearer view, you see it is a work of art in itself, painted pure white and constructed in the shape of a swan.

The swanships of Alqualondë. Joy and grief clash in your heart to finally behold Lorinand's tribute to those fabled masterpieces of the Falmari shipwrights, mirroring the conflict between the two sides of your heritage.

You take a few steps back, your mind scrambling for an excuse to depart without hurting Lindir’s feelings.

But before you can turn away, you catch sight of him.

On the deck of the large boat are four passengers. Three giggling elleths cluster around the one ellon, upon whom your full attention has fallen. He stands tall with the proud, self-assured carriage only seen in lords of the highest status, his bearing further enhanced by the elegant make of his forest-green tunic. His silver hair falls to his waist, even longer and finer than Celebrian's, held in place by only a thin circlet. His face…

Suddenly, you find yourself looking straight into his eyes. Turning his face away from his companions and towards the river’s edge, he finds you. That gaze, greyish blue as a winter’s sky, locks onto yours, and traps it. You cannot move, helpless as those fierce eyes reach deep into you, probing with a curiosity that would not be denied. And as reticent as you have always been, and protective of your secrets, a small voice rises in your mind and echoes in your heart, calling for you to welcome him in, as though he belongs there.

No. You will not. Your will fights against this urging, this spell, or whatever magic the elf-prince Thranduil may be casting upon you, and you tear your gaze away. You catch just a glimpse of surprise, perhaps even frustration, on the Silvan royal’s face. You feel a swell of pride and triumph as you smooth the skirt of your dress and sniff as you physically turn away from Thranduil of Greenwood, and cast your smile at Lindir.

“I would love to listen to and learn more songs of the Tawarwaith, if you would honor me.”

Lindir beams as you slip your hand into the crook of his offered arm, and you let him lead you away from the riverbank, ignoring the furious stare that follows you in your departure.

#thranduil oropherion #thranduil fanfiction #king thranduil #thranduil x oc #thranduil x wife #lindir #celebrian #lorinand #lord of the rings #the hobbit #tolkien

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luna-redamancy · 2 years

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for your celebration, can i request lindir with his husband trying ( & succeeding ) in showing him how much he loves an adores him? i feel like there are times where lindir would get insecure & worried in their marriage that his husband could do better. M!Reader is clearly having none of it, he’d move mountains themselves for lindir, so he spends the entire day-night just proving/worshiping lindir.

Hello, my dear! Here it is! I hope you enjoy it:

It wasn’t anything specific that made you notice Lindir’s insecurities. No, nothing gargantuan that truly sent off a lightbulb in your head as an ‘aha, this is the problem’. It was the little things.

It started with him not attending dinners with you in public, but rather seeking refuge in his study, then came the subconscious pulling away from your affections if in front of others. Following this were the lingering stares, the gentle tug on the corners of his mouth that would only ever go away when you would wrap your arms around him.

And then finally it hit you when you saw his frown deepen and his brow furrow in thought when a young elleth approached to ask questions about the newest event Elrond was planning. Truly innocent. However, the hand on your arm and the polite smile that came to your lips made Lindir think ever different.

“He deserves better,” You recalled him muttering to himself, anger filling your being as you watched his eyes cast downward. He could not see that you truly only cared for him.

That’s when you decided to begin your plan.

You awoke him with gentle kisses to his eyelids, caressing lips pecking small but meaningful kisses down the front of his cheeks before moving to where his cheekbones meet his temples, a grin pulling on your face as Lindir’s eyes opened.

“Good morning,” You muttered before cupping his cheek in your hand, tilting his face ever so slightly so your lips could slot against his.

Lindir responded by melting into you, a pleased sigh leaving him as you rubbed a soothing thumb over his jaw.

“Good morning to you too,” He uttered, slightly out of breath as he looked at you with wide eyes and a soft smile, a rosy blush developing on his cheeks.

“What was that for?” He questioned, feeling flustered all over as you simply cuddled up to his side.

“No special reason,” You replied, voice soft as you held him to you. “Just wanted to give you extra love, that’s all,” You murmured as you began to press more kisses into his skin.

“Oh?” His voice was teasing, but you could tell he was genuinely suspicious of your sudden affections.

“Mhm,” You made a noise of agreement to your previous statement, peppering kisses across his shoulder and collar.

“I don’t believe you,” Lindir joked, but you could tell from his previous insecurities he was concerned, and one thing you knew after all this time was that Lindir enjoyed knowing what you were going to do next- so this sudden change in your behavior, a more present form of affection, startled him and left him feeling as if he was about to go overboard.

“Well that’s alright,” You replied, pulling back to look at him, briefly pausing to tuck a hair that was in his face behind his ear.

“You don’t need to believe me, I will simply show you.”

After an hour or so of kissing and cuddling, murmuring your affections into his skin, Lindir was truly flustered but melting in your embrace, heart feeling reassured and cared for.

His ears were tinted red and feeling warm to the touch, as well as his whole face flushing every time you pressed a kiss to his skin. But with each kiss, each whisper, each squeeze, the insecurities that mounted on his shoulders for weeks now were pushed off like boulders down a mountain.

“I believe I must get to work now, my love,” He spoke, body not really wanting to leave your side but his anxious brain reminded him of how much paperwork he left on his desk last night.

“You’ll be happy to know that you have the day off,” That was another part of your plan, schedule the day off with Elrond so you two didn’t have to go anywhere.

Lindir didn’t know whether to feel frightened or excited by your grin as you propped yourself above his form, eyes twinkling as you stared at him.

“You are all mine today, Melda (beloved).”