#and then the moment thranduil turns his back | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gloomwitchwrites · 11 months ago

Text

Winter Gem

Thranduil x Female Elf Reader

Content & Warnings: soft!Thranduil, widowed!Thranduil, fluff, peril & rescue, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.8k

Seeking something precious for Thranduil, you're caught in a storm. When you don't return, he goes searching for you.

A/N: For @firelightinferno

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

“The first snows have arrived.”

“It has come early.”

Thranduil inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Indeed.”

You stand beside Thranduil outside the main gates. Five guards stand nearby but there is no danger. A steady snowfall drifts down from the sky. The snowflakes are slightly gray in appearance, almost like ash on the wind. You frown down at a few of the flakes that land on your leather vambrace.

“You look ready for your hunt,” observes Thranduil, gesturing toward your attire with the tip of his head.

“Yes,” reply softly. “I plan on heading out for a bit.”

His eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “In this weather?”

You glance up from the vambrace and meet his blue eyes. Thranduil’s gaze is startling and sharp. Piercing. Intense. It cuts right down to your heart. His gaze always holds you hostage, wrapping you up in his essence. Most might find Thranduil intimidating, but you know better.

“Is my king telling me I cannot?” You’re teasing him, and Thranduil knows this. His smile is one of soft amusement.

“As long as you return to me. You are free to do as you wish.” Even though Thranduil’s tone is gentle, you understand the deeper meaning.

Thranduil lost his wife many years ago. Other than his son, Legolas, you are his comfort. He wants you to be free, to enjoy the pleasures of life, but he also wants you to be safe, to return to him at the end of every leaving.

Thranduil glances over his shoulder. The guards on duty discreetly glance away, staring off into the distance as if they’ve suddenly found something of great interest. Thranduil leans in and shifts his body to block their view of you. He is close enough that it might appear that the two of you are kissing, but he does not meet your lips.

In the end, Thranduil is private about affection. He does not like to share your tender moments together in front of others.

“Enjoy your hunt. I eagerly await your return.”

You give him a half-hearted, sarcastic bow that immediately puts a wide smile on his face. Thranduil watches you until you disappear into the trees. Perhaps he lingers longer than that, wondering if you will turn around and come back to him.

It is true. You are on a hunt, but not for what he or anyone else is likely expecting.

Over a week ago, Thranduil went out in the woods with some of the guards on patrol. It’s the first time he’s been out beyond the walls in some time. Many patrols that ventured into the northern regions reported back on a strangeness in the air, and the scent of evil. Thranduil decided to investigate.

While tracking, he lost something precious.

Around his neck on a chain, Thranduil kept a silver ring. Within the ring is a precious gem, a blue stone so pale it almost appears white like a burning star. The chain that held it snapped while he and the guards chased a group of spiders that had made their way south.

He remembered it snagging, and while he did not show any distress upon telling you of its disappearance, you also know how much that ring and jewel means to him. It was a gift from his wife when they were newly married. She had a matching one, but upon her death, Thranduil moved it from his finger to around his neck.

This hunt—your hunt—is about that ring. You have a fairly good idea about where it might have fallen, and there is no reason for it to have moved since then. Few enter these woods unless they follow the road, and that is on rare occasions.

Tracking is your specialty, and your time is not limited due to the falling snow. But you’ve tracked in worse weather. The snow is unfortunate, but you can still search as long as it remains at its current pace. The tree cover will keep much of the snow in the higher canopy. There will be time yet before the snow completely covers the ground and you lose the trail.

Heading north, you retrace the path the patrol took. Yes, a week has passed, and nature reclaims much, but not everything is hidden so quickly. There are small disturbances that indicate the path ahead.

As you begin to draw nearer to the area Thranduil mentioned, the snow starts to pick up. It becomes thicker, not staying above in the canopy but instead making its way to the ground. It’s not ideal, but you can manage.

Thranduil mentioned two tree trunks growing together and then breaking apart. When you happen upon it, the snow comes down in thicker sheets. On the ground, it’s sticking. Collecting. Time is running out. Elves have good eyes, and you focus in on the ground, gnarled roots, and underbrush.

Near the base of the tangled tree, you notice a slight sparkle. Approaching it, you go down on one knee, brushing away some of the snow.

“Found you.”

The ring is there, resting in the roots. It appears undamaged, and that is a relief. Picking it up, you tuck it into an inside pocket, protecting it from the elements.

The snow crunches under your boots, and the wind howls. For the first time, you shiver. Cold is not and has never been an issue. Elves can withstand a great many things, including winter weather.

Frowning, you turn into the chilly wind. There is a disturbance. Something dark and foul. It sets the edges of your nerves tingling. A simmering suspicion bubbles up from somewhere within you, question whether this snow is natural or not.

Turning on your heel, you head back the way you came. But the snow is heavy, and your fresh tracks are starting to slip away, returning to the snow. As you walk, the snowfall becomes a storm. The wind whips up, swirling the snow around until you cannot see more than a few feet in front of your face.

Your instincts were right. This storm is not natural. It is too early for it, and storms like these are rare in the Woodland Realm.

The toe of your boot catches in a downed tree branch and you slam face first into the snow. It’s freezing. Temperature isn’t usually a deterrent for the elves, but this is beyond cold. It’s as if you’ve been swallowed whole by a massive glacier.

You walk and walk, and you have no idea if you’ve gained any ground. There are no visible signs, and you’re not sure how far you’ve gone, or if you’re simply walking in circles. The snow is deepening or perhaps you’re imagining it. Everything seems darker, like the world is closing in.

You’re not dressed for this sort of weather.

And you’re tired. So tired. Your knees and thighs burn, and sitting down for some rest doesn’t seem so bad. It’s fine. You can take refugee within the deep roots of a tree. You can stay warm there until the snow dissipates. Then, you can return. Thranduil will understand.

As if opening for you, the roots of a nearby tree expand, showing safety from the storm. You slink into it, curling up into a ball.

You drift in the howling wind. There is a haze that sits on your eyelashes. Whether you dream or not is irrelevant. Numbness oozes into your limbs, and that only forces you to curl up tighter, wanting to pull away from the cold.

A hand touches the side of your head. It is warm. Gentle. The fingers slide up to brush your hair out of your face. You hear your name but it is a whisper. Distant. So far away it doesn’t seem real.

There are arms around you. Lifting. Steady. And when you inhale, the scent is familiar. You know who it is instantly.

“Thranduil,” you murmur, and the answer is a gentle squeeze of your hand.

“I found you, my star.”

There are only short moments of consciousness. There is snow. Cold. The antlers of an elk. The gates of home, and then warmth. So much warmth that the numbness begins to recede.

You are brought back to the living world near a roaring fire. Beneath you is a makeshift bed comprised of pillows and soft blankets. You shift, and feel bare skin against bare skin. Slowly, you push yourself to sitting.

Your leather gear is gone, replaced with a soft robe that traps in the heat.

“You’re awake.” Thranduil’s voice is a gentle, comforting hug.

Turning toward his voice, you watch as he glides across the floor. Thranduil wears silver robes of starlight. In his hands in a small tray. On it is a steaming cup of tea and an assortment of food. Bending at the knees, Thranduil settles in beside you, placing the tray down on the blankets.

“You came looking for me,” you say, and your voice nearly cracks with emotion.

“Did you think I would not?” he asks, arranging the food around on the tray.

You know, deep in your heart, that Thranduil would come, but you also believed in your abilities as a tracker. “When did you start to worry?”

Thranduil lifts the cup off the tray and presents it to you. “When the storm picked up. Something about it felt unnatural.” You take it, and bring the warm beverage to your lips. “I gathered some guards and we set out. It is good that we found you in time.” He pauses. “I’m not sure my heart could take any more loss.”

The heat of the tea spreads throughout your body, the chill slipping away quickly. “I do believe you are correct. That storm was not natural.”

Thranduil nods. “There is a growing darkness to the north. The scouts on patrol have spoken of it often but have been unable to get close enough for more details.”

“Perhaps I strayed too close,” you murmur.

“Perhaps,” replies Thranduil, reaching out to take your hand. He lifts it, and brings it into his lap. Using both hands, he rotates your wrist until your palm faces the ceiling. Then, he guides your open palm to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the middle of it.

Instant warmth shoots out from that spot, running down your arm and piercing your heart like an arrow. Slowly, he curls your fingers in, creating a loose fist, and then brushes his lips against your knuckles before pulling away.

He does not release your hand. “I know why you left.”

“Thranduil—”

“You did not need to explain. I understand why.” Thranduil reaches out and cups your cheek, turning your face toward him. “I am thankful that you found it, but you are also precious to me, and losing you is a far greater loss.”

You turn into his touch. “That ring is important to you.”

“Many things are important to me. But the ring is just that. A thing. You are breathing. You are here. I would like to keep it that way.”

Your eyes drift close and you revel in the warmth of his touch. “Are you mad?”

“Never.”

“Will you hold me?”

“For as long as you like.”

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @ninman82 @therealbloom

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cowboybeepboop · 2 months ago

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Fields

"Come, let us get you into bed. You need your rest."

Pairing: Thranduil x fem! Human reader

Genre: Romantic smut

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: You’re the King's human lover and you share a special night together.

Warnings: Romantic sex, oral fem receiving, riding him, unprotected sex, p in v sex

a/n: Guys please bear with me, I’m working on some new lotr/th oneshots that shall also be posted soon. As per usual, please let me know if you have any requests and I hope you enjoy.

Thranduil had a quiet moment to himself, laying in a field of flowers as the sun set behind him. He had a look of tranquility on his face as his mind wandered to many different things. He kept his eyes closed. He heard footsteps coming near him, he didn't give a reaction to this though.. he had an idea of who it was.

“You look so peaceful like this,” you hum, lowering to your knees next to his muscular body. You brush his hair from his face, touch light and delicate.

Thranduil didn't move a muscle when you knelt down in the grass beside him. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke, his eyes still shut for the time being. “I am at peace, for now..” He said before his lips curled into a small smile.

“Until someone decides to ruin it,” he added, opening one of his eyes and looking up at you with a slight teasing tone in the last part.

You press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Shall I leave you alone then?” Thranduil's smile widened into a grin as your soft lips brushed against his.

He chuckled softly as he took your hand, looking up at you with a playful look in his eyes. “Don’t you dare,” he said in a quiet but firm tone.

“Come. Lay with me.” His voice turned more of a request as he tugged on your hand ever so gently, coaxing you to lay down next to him in the flowers.

You press your cheek to his chest, eyes fluttering shut as you listen to his heart. “As you wish my King.”

Thranduil wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest as his hand came up to brush through your hair gently in a soothing manner. He gently took one of your hands in his free one, intertwining his fingers with yours.

His chest rose and fell with each deep breath as the two of you lay there in the grass, just listening to one another's heartbeats. "That's a good girl.." he murmured with a soft, affectionate smile.

You find yourself drifting off to sleep, the warmth and comfort of his body like a lullaby. Thranduil noticed your eyes growing heavy and your breathing starting to slow, it was a sure sign that you were falling asleep.

He carefully wrapped his arms around you, gently rolling onto his side to pull you closer, holding your body flush against his. "It's okay, little one. Rest.." he spoke quietly, one of his hands gently tracing soft patterns down your back as he held you in a protective embrace, the sound of his steady heartbeat in your ear.

“Mm..” your voice is a soft murmur as you cuddle closer to him.

Thranduil smiled as you cuddled closer to him, his arms holding you in a firm yet gentle embrace as he buried his face into your hair, inhaling your scent. He gently nuzzled his head against yours, relishing in your warm and softness against him.

"Sleep, my darling," he whispered softly, gently starting to stroke his fingers through your hair as he held you in his arms. Thranduil's chest rose and fell with each quiet breath, finding himself starting to grow just as relaxed as you.

After hours of holding you in his arms, Thranduil felt you shiver slightly as a cold breeze blew through the garden, gently stirring the grass around them. Thranduil's heart ached to see you cold, his arms instinctively holding you tighter in an attempt to keep you warm.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, before carefully pulling you even closer to his chest. "Are you cold, my love?" he murmured quietly, his fingers continuing to glide softly through your hair.

“It is growing cold, Thranduil..” you murmur against his chest, not willing to leave his warm side.

Thranduil gently adjusted his grip on you, pulling you closer against him, almost as if he was trying to shield you from the chill in the air. He lifted one of his hands from your hair, tracing it to your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb against your skin, before he spoke again.

"We should head inside. You'll freeze out here.." he said in a low, gentle tone, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft kiss.

“Could you carry me..” you bury your face into his chest, shivering against him.

Thranduil felt your body shiver against him once more, and he gently lifted his head off of yours so he could look down at you. He chuckled softly as he heard your request, gently running his hand down your back.

"Of course, darling," he said with a hint of fond amusement. With a slightly playful smirk on his face, he shifted his body, carefully scooping you up into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.

Thranduil walked through the halls of his palace while carrying you in his arms, his long strides eating up the distance quickly. He could feel you melting against him as he walked, feeling a sense of satisfaction of being able to provide you with warmth and comfort.

Soon enough, he reached your shared room and he pushed the doors open with one hand, stepping inside and lowering you gently onto the bed.

You cuddle into the sheets, your skirt hiked up over your hips, revealing your smooth skin to his gaze.

Thranduil's eyes roamed over your body as you settled onto the bed, his gaze lingering on your exposed skin. His eyes darkened slightly as he took in the sight of you, looking so vulnerable, so delicate, and yet so alluring at the same time.

His own clothes were slightly disheveled, the top of his shirt unbuttoned ever so slightly, adding to the overall rugged appearance. He could feel a familiar heat rise in the pit of his stomach as he looked at you, slowly approaching the bed.

Thranduil's breath caught in his throat as you wrapped your arms around the pillow, your legs slightly parted and revealing even more of your skin to him. He could feel the tension in the air as he watched you, his eyes tracing along the curves of your body, like a predator stalking its prey.

He approached the foot of the bed, slowly crawling onto the mattress behind you, his large form hovering over you as his hands rested on either side of your hips.

“My king..” you murmur, relishing in his touch. Thranduil leaned down, bringing his body close to yours, his chest pressing against your back as he leaned down towards your ear. His breath ghosted across your skin, making you shiver as he gently spoke in a low, deep tone.

"Yes, darling?" he muttered, his hands on your hips, rubbing small, teasing circles against the bare flesh of your skin. He could feel your body heat against his, his own desire growing more and more as he looked down at you.

“You’re trying to seduce me..” you murmur against the plush pillow.

Thranduil chuckled softly, his hands slowly moving up and down your sides, his touch just light enough to tickle. "Is it working?" he spoke in a low, sultry tone, his breath warm against the nape of your neck. He lowered his head, gently nibbling on the exposed skin just below your ear, his tongue darting out to taste you.

You moan softly, enjoying the gentleness of his caresses. “Perhaps it is,” Thranduil's lips curled into a small grin as he heard your moan, the sound like music to his ears.

He gently licked and kissed the sensitive skin of your exposed neck, his hands continuing to roam over your body, tracing every curve, every dip and contour of your form.

"Perhaps?" he repeated with a hint of amusement in his voice, his mouth finding its way to your shoulder, gently nipping at the soft flesh. "Only perhaps..?" he teased softly, his thumbs pressing into your hip bones.

“My King..” You gasp, feeling the familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach as he touches you.

Thranduil continued to shower your exposed skin with kisses and nibbling, his eyes roaming over every inch of your body as he continued to touch you intimately. At the sound of your gasp, he let out a low, approving hum against the skin of your neck, his hands slowly moving from your hips, running up along your sides, to your stomach.

"Does it feel good, my darling..?" he murmured quietly, his fingers gently tracing patterns against your skin, leaving little jolts of pleasure in their wake.

“Very good..” you moan, shifting beneath him so you can gaze up at him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

Thranduil let out a soft, guttural sound of approval as you shifted beneath him, his hands still gently caressing your skin as his eyes met yours. He could feel the heat and desire building between the two of you, the air growing heavier as you looked up at him.

He couldn't deny the effect you had on him; just the sight of you alone was enough to make his heart clench. Thranduil slowly lowered himself down, his body resting fully against yours as he leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, searing kiss.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at the roots softly as your legs wrap around his hips.

Thranduil let out a low growl as you tangled your fingers in his hair, the tug on his scalp sending a wave of pleasure throughout his entire body. He pressed himself down onto you, his hips slotting perfectly in between your legs as you wrapped them around him, trapping him against you.

He couldn't help himself from pressing himself against you, his own desire growing more and more intense as he felt your body against his. Thranduil's lips moved furiously against yours as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance into your mouth.

Thranduil felt a shudder of pleasure as you parted your lips in submission, his tongue slipping past to explore your mouth as he claimed it for his own. He savored the taste of you, his own lust and hunger fueling his actions as he kissed you like an elf starved.

His hands slid down your body, seeking purchase and finding purchase on your thighs as he pushed them further apart. His own hips rocked against yours, the thin barrier that remained between their bodies slowly becoming an increasing irritant.

Your muffled moans fill his mouth as he grinds against you, sending shivers of pleasure through you. Thranduil swallowed each moan you made as he continued to kiss you, his hips rolling against yours in an almost feral manner.

The friction between you was maddening, only adding more fuel to the fire burning within him. He could feel your body's response to his movements, each shiver and shudder driving him even further to take what he wanted, to claim what was his.

Thranduil broke the kiss, lifting his head so he could look down at you, his eyes roaming over your flushed, panting form. "You're mine..." he breathed in a low, possessive tone.

“Always, I’m forever yours my King.” You cup his face, lips parted and cheeks flushed.

Thranduil's heart jumped in his chest at your words, the pure devotion in your voice making his own desires flare even stronger. He leaned into your touch as you cupped his face, his eyes dark and stormy as he looked down at you with a mixture of lust, love, and possessiveness in his gaze.

"You better be," he said in a low, gruff tone, his voice heavy with emotions. "Because I have no intention of letting you go, my darling. Ever."

You smile up at him feeling his fingers tugging at the hem of your skirt. “I shall not leave your side, love.”

With a gentle yet firm tug, Thranduil lifts the dress from your body, the fabric slipping off your skin like silk. He pauses for a moment, drinking in the sight of you laid bare before him, your curves and contours bathed in the soft glow of candlelight.

His eyes sparkle with hunger and admiration as they rove over your flesh, lingering on the swell of your breasts and the dip of your waist. He lets out a soft groan, his desire palpable in the air as his hands move to trace the newly exposed skin, his fingertips leaving a trail of heat wherever they go.

You can feel his arousal pressing into you, the proof of his desire for you unmistakable. His gaze meets yours, filled with a fierce love and a burning need to possess you completely.

With eager, trembling hands, Thranduil tugged at his own clothing, each button and lace coming undone with a sense of urgency. His garments fell away, revealing the sculpted planes of his body, his muscles defined by moonlight and shadows.

His eyes never leaving yours, he reached out to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples in a feather-light touch that has you arching your back with a silent plea. He smiles, a smoldering fire in his gaze, and then his hands slid down your body, his fingers hooking into the delicate fabric of your panties.

With a firm, yet gentle pull, he slid them down your legs, baring you fully to him. His arousal grew even more prominent as he took in the sight of your naked body, your legs open and inviting, revealing your slick and swollen folds that begged for his touch.

He leaned back down to kiss you once more, his hand moving to caress the soft, wet warmth between your thighs, his fingers slipping inside you easily, making you gasp into his mouth.

With a soft growl of desire, Thranduil settled himself between your open thighs, his eyes never leaving yours as he lowered his head to the juncture of your legs. His mouth watered at the sight of your glistening sex, your arousal like a sweet nectar to him.

He took his time, savoring the moment as he gently parted your folds with his thumbs, exposing the delicate pearl of your clit to the cool air. His tongue darted out, tracing a line from your entrance up to the sensitive bud, tasting you with a hunger that was centuries in the making.

His touch was feather-light, yet firm, as he licked and kissed you with an expertise that sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Each stroke of his tongue against your clit brought forth a new gasp, each nip of his teeth a shiver of delight.

He held your legs wide open, keeping you open to his ministrations as he explored every part of you with his mouth, his teeth grazing against your inner thighs, his tongue delving deep inside you, and his breath fanning the flames of your passion. His hands remained on your hips, keeping you firmly in place as he devoured you, his mouth moving with a rhythm that was both torturously slow and exquisitely perfect.

You could feel yourself growing wetter, your body responding to his every touch, your legs trembling as he brought you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Your back arches off the bed as needy moans escape your lips, your entire body quivering with the intensity of the pleasure he's giving you. Thranduil's mouth is relentless, his tongue flicking and circling your clit with a precision that speaks of centuries of experience.

His strong hands hold your hips in place as you try to buck against him, the sensations threatening to overwhelm you. His teeth graze against your sensitive skin, sending jolts of pleasure through your body that make your toes curl and your fingers clutch at the bedsheets. You can feel your orgasm building, a coil of tension tightening in your belly as his mouth works its magic.

You're so close, so very close, and he seems to know it as he increases the tempo, his tongue dancing over your clit in a way that has you on the brink. Finally, with one last, firm flick of his tongue, you fall over the edge, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crash through you.

You're a trembling mess under him, your body wracked with spasms as he continues to kiss and suck, drawing out every last drop of your climax before finally, mercifully, letting you collapse back onto the bed. He watches you with a smug smile, licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you, fully sated and utterly his.

With a gentle touch, Thranduil brushed your hair away from your cheeks, his eyes filled with love and concern as he studied your flushed face. "Are you tired, my love?" he asked in a voice that was a blend of tenderness and desire, his breath warm against your skin.

His thumbs traced the outline of your jaw, his gaze lingering on the way your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath you took, your breasts pressing against his chest with each gasp. The question hung in the air, filled with the promise of more intimate moments to come if you weren't too exhausted from the passionate encounter.

As you nod softly in response to Thranduil's question, you reach down and wrap your hand around his thick, aroused length. The velvety skin is hot to the touch, pulsing with the beat of his heart, and your grip tightens slightly, feeling the veins that run along his shaft.

"I'm not too tired to make sure you're satisfied," you murmur against his ear, a hint of mischief in your voice as you start to stroke him, your hand moving in a slow, firm rhythm. Thranduil's eyes close, his breath hitching in his throat as your touch sends waves of pleasure through him.

His hands tighten around your hips in response, pulling you closer as he lets out a low groan of appreciation. His eyes flutter open, meeting yours, and he smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection and desire.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice strained with pleasure, as he leans down to kiss you once more, his tongue tracing the curve of your bottom lip before delving back into your mouth.

With a soft whine of anticipation, you position yourself over Thranduil's erect length, the tip nudging against your entrance as you hover for a brief moment. Looking into his eyes, filled with a fiery passion that matches your own, you slowly start to sink down onto him.

The initial stretch is exquisite, his warmth and hardness filling you in a way that feels so right, so perfect. His hands tighten around your waist, guiding you down as he groans into your kiss, feeling the tightness of your body enveloping him inch by inch.

Each breath you take is shallower than the last, each movement of your hips sending shockwaves through both of you. Once you're fully seated on him, you pause, savoring the feeling of fullness before you begin to rock gently, setting a rhythm that's as ancient as the forest itself.

Thranduil's eyes never leave yours, his hands roaming over your skin as if he's trying to memorize every line and curve by touch alone. His breath hitches in his throat with every movement you make, every gasp and whimper that escapes your lips.

The bond between you, the connection of flesh and soul, is palpable as you move together, lost in a dance that's both fierce and tender, a symphony of love and lust that echoes through the very air of the room.

As you reached up to gently trace the pointed tips of Thranduil's ears with your fingertips, his eyes rolled back in pleasure, his hands guiding the rhythm of your hips as you moved above him. The soft touch was a heady sensation that seemed to resonate through his entire being, making him shiver and his grip on you tighten.

His breathing grew ragged, matching the pace of your movements, as you both danced together in the throes of passion. Each brush of your fingers against his sensitive skin sent bolts of pleasure through his body, making him growl low in his throat, his hips rising to meet yours with increasing urgency.

The room was filled with the sweet symphony of your combined sighs and moans, the rustling of the bed, and the occasional clank of his jewelry as his head moved back and forth against the pillow. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, the friction of your skin against his sending sparks of desire through both of you.

Thranduil's eyes remained locked on you, his expression a mix of love, need, and pure animal instinct. The way you touched him was like nothing he had ever felt before you, a tender yet powerful caress that seemed to ignite every nerve ending in his body.

As you continued to ride him, his own movements grew more demanding, his hands moving from your hips to cup your breasts, his thumbs rolling over your nipples as his hips met yours in a relentless rhythm that sent shockwaves of pleasure through both of you.

Thranduil's eyes widened in pleasure as he felt your inner muscles tighten around him, signaling your approaching climax. His own was building, the pressure inside him growing with each stroke as your bodies moved as one.

With a final, deep thrust, he swelled inside you, filling you completely as he reached his peak. The pleasure was intense, a crescendo of sensation that seemed to consume him entirely. You gasped as your orgasm washed over you, your body clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you.

The bond between you grew stronger, your spirits intertwining as your love and desire for each other reached new heights. Thranduil's eyes squeezed shut, a roar of ecstasy tearing from his throat as he released himself within you, the warmth of his essence mixing with the heat of your passion.

Together, you rode the crest of the wave, your bodies trembling with the force of your shared climax, until finally, you collapsed against him, both spent and utterly content.

Thranduil gently untangled himself from your embrace, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before rising from the bed. His eyes roved over your spent form, a mixture of love and adoration evident in his gaze.

He padded across the room, stepping into the connected bathroom. He turned on the taps of the large, stone bathtub, filling the room with the sound of rushing water and steam. As the tub filled, he added some scented essential oils to the water, creating a relaxing aroma that filled the air.

Once the bath was ready, Thranduil returned to the bedside, his gaze meeting yours. You gaze at him through hooded eyes, reaching for his soft blond hair.

Thranduil's hand found yours, and he gently helped you off the bed. "Come, my love," he murmured, his voice still husky. With steady steps, he led you into the bathroom, the steam from the warm water filling the room.

He helped you into the bathtub, his touch tender and careful as he guided you in. Once you were settled, he called for a servant to change the bedding, his voice carrying out into the hallway.

“Will you join me?” You murmur, sinking into the warmth of the water. Thranduil's eyes darkened as he watched you sink into the warm water, your body enveloped in steam and bubbles.

"Of course," he murmurs in response, his voice rough with desire. "I could never resist joining you." He entered the tub, settling in behind you, his strong legs on either side of you.

Thranduil's hands caressed your wet skin, lovingly trailing over every dip and curve as he gently washed away the remnants of your recent encounter. With each touch and movement, his love and devotion for you shone through, his fingers tracing patterns against your skin that felt like a silent declaration of his love.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, his mouth hovering just beside your ear. "Every inch of you is perfect."

“My King…” you murmur, relaxing into his strong chest, your eyes flutter closed.

Thranduil wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against him so that your back was flush against his chest. His chin rested on top of your head, and he inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"Yes, my darling?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your stomach.

“You flatter me too much.” You reply, head falling back against his shoulder as you relish in his touch.

Thranduil chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He moved his head down to place a soft kiss on your neck, his mouth skimming along your skin until it reached your ear.

"I cannot flatter you enough," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Every word I say to you is true. You are everything to me, and I will never tire of telling you how beautiful and perfect you are."

“You are beautiful as well, my love.” He washes your body as you lean against him comforted by his warmth.

Thranduil's hands continued their gentle caresses as he washed your body, his touch strong but still impossibly tender. He savored the feeling of your body pressing against his, and he took his time, relishing the moment.

"Your words are sweet," he murmured, his voice low, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. "But it is you who brings the true beauty into my life."

Thranduil carefully pulls you out of the water, his hands gentle and strong as he wraps a soft, warm towel around you. He takes his time drying you off, his touch reverent as he caresses each inch of your skin.

Once you are dry, he helps you into your nightgown, his fingers grazing over your sensitive skin in lingering touches. "There," he murmurs, stepping back to admire you. "Perfect."

“Thranduil, my love.” You cup his cheek, kissing his lips gently.

Thranduil's eyes closed at your touch, a low growl of pleasure rumbling in his chest as you kissed him gently. His arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer against his chest. He deepened the kiss, his mouth claiming yours with a fierce but tender passion.

"My darling," he breathed against your lips. "You undo me with a single touch."

Thranduil's gaze softened as he looked down at you, taking note of the exhaustion in your eyes. "But you’re weary," he observed, lifting a hand to caress your cheek gently.

His thumb traced over your skin in soothing circles, his touch filled with tenderness. "Come, let us get you into bed. You need your rest."

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kiatheinsomniac · 1 year ago

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How about sleepy early morning sex with Thranduil?👁👁prettyprettyplease

──── 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I feel like it's been forever since I last write for Thranduil 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Thranduil x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.3k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, MDNI, smut, morning sex, riding, slight overstimulation, creampie.

You wake to the sensation of kisses being peppered across your cheeks as morning light pours in through the window, bathing you in a pool of liquid gold. The warmth heats your skin with the aid of your lover's body which is half draped over yours . One of his arms crosses over your body palm pressed to the soft surface of the mattress in order to prop himself up as his pillowy lips plant kisses across your face in order to rouse you from sleep.

You groan as you wake but the corners of your mouth quirk up in a smile when you realise that the first thing you feel this day is your husband’s affection. Your arms reach up to wind around his neck and thread your fingers through his gossamer hair, tugging just a little at the hair at the base of his head as you arch your back up to press your chest to his, delighting in the warm press of his skin upon yours. He begins to kiss you with more fervour now that you’re awake and you sigh against his lips as your mind begins to wake up.

You let out a little giggle when you feel him press to your thigh and your eagerness only seems to spur him on as he reaches beneath the curve of your spine to pull you on top of him when he turns onto his back. His hair fans out on the pillow beneath his head like a halo of starlight and you smile sleepily down at him.

“Good morning, meleth nîn~ (my love)” You drawl out with a little smile on your face as you lean down to pour kisses down his cheek and the slope of his jaw. His strong arms coil around your waist and you bask in the warmth of the sunlight pouring over your bed and heating your bodies as your skin presses to his. You allow yourself to simply rest atop him for a while as your nose nudges against his neck and you feel one of his hands lift up to sweep your hair from your shoulder.

“Indeed, a good morning it is…” He murmurs against the side of your head, pressing a kiss there. Beneath the sheets, your legs shift so that they bracket his hips and you slowly rise up as you set your palms down flat on his chest to support your balance. The sheet crumples and falls down your back, pooling around your hips and giving your husband quite the view considering the two of you are still bare from last night’s activities.

You let out a low groan as you slowly, sensually roll your hips against him, feeling his dick slide through the folds of your dampening pussy. His hands slide down the curves of your waist in order to land upon your hips and hold firmly, softly squeezing you. No words need to be spoken to understand what the both of you want.

Thranduil’s large hands roam up over your belly and to your chest, cupping and squeezing your soft breasts as his thumbs brush over your nipples, watching how they harden in the golden rays of light falling over you, making you look almost as though you were glowing. You continue to rock your hips against him, his dick trapped between his abdomen and your leaking pussy.

His head tips back as he sucks in a hiss through his teeth. “Come now, meleth nîn, tease me no longer.” He looks up at you through lidded eyes as one of his hands firmly grabs at the underside of your ass and helps to lift you up a little. His line of sight flickers down to his hardened cock and then back up to you, a silent command. You reach down and let out a soft moan when you glide his sensitive tip through your lips, taking a moment to feel the press and glide of it against your swollen clit before finally sinking down onto him.

You take your time to sink down to him as you feel his large hands curl around the curve of your hips. At the stretch of him, you find your hands on his abdomen curling into tight fists, scratching slightly at his alabaster skin. He seems to grow impatient with you, or perhaps he just enjoys seeing your reactions, because his hold on your hips tightens and he bottoms out up into you. A keen is torn from your lips and for a moment, you feel as though you might collapse onto him. But he’s already setting a slow and steady pace, fucking up into you and it fills you with a craving for more. With your hands still pressed to his toned abdomen in order to assist in your balance, you begin to match his pace.

It doesn’t take very long before the room is full of the squelches of your pussy being emptied and filled again and again and again, of your skin meeting his; they’re joined by his groans and your airy moans as you can nearly feel the air being punched from your lungs with just how deep he sinks into you each time. You can feel the trembling in your legs grow as all of your muscles seem to wind up tightly and sense in anticipation of your impending orgasm.

Soon enough, your body seems to flush with heat and you push your hips down with all your weight, taking all of his cock inside your fluttering walls while he grinds into your sweet spot to draw out your pleasure even longer.

You’re suddenly pushed onto your back in a tangle of limbs and you let out a noise like a wail when suddenly your sensitive, sticky walls are being pounded into as Thranduil chases his own release with your body, quickly pushing you towards the border of overstimulation. Your hands reach up to tangle in and tug at his gossamer hair and pull his body flush against yours. You feel his breath puff out against your neck just below your ear, sending shivers down your spine while your legs continue to quiver. You can hear all of his groans and grunts right by your ear as he praises you: ‘so tight’, ‘you always feel so good for me’, ‘one more, just give me one more when I fill you with my cum…’

It’s enough to quickly send your overly-sensitive body into another orgasm, your walls milking his cock as his hips stutter and you feel the warmth of his seed filling you up.

The two of you hold each other in the silence that follows, interrupted only by your panted breaths and the faint wet noises of Thranduil continuing to grind into you, fucking his seed deeper into you, nudging against your cervix.

“I don’t want to face the day just yet…” You let out in a sigh as you hold your husband a little tighter. All you truly wanted was to spend the day in bed with him but the two of you had a duty to your kingdom.

“Neither do I, but it must be done…” Thranduil replies with a gentle kiss to your temple as he withdraws just enough to brush some damp hair away from your face. “But we don’t have to part until we leave our chambers.” He withdraws from you at last and you feel the sticky warmth of his cum leak from your hole. He looks down at the sight and you see a masculine sort of pride flash across his face for a moment. “So let me clean you up before I send you about your day.” You giggle when he suddenly hoists you up into a princess carry and begins to walk you towards your shared bathroom.

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kat651 · 1 year ago

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

(You are half-elven and your ears aren’t near as sensitive to touch).

Elrond:

You sat on the divan, lord Elrond was laying with his head on your lap as you gently played with his hair, letting him rant to get all his hidden bottles up emotions out. “Oh! And then-” he sat up and sighed. “I’ll just say that meeting was a disaster…” he slumped and looked over at you. “I’m sorry to rant like this…”

You smiled. “It’s alright…” you mumbled as you gently tucked a stray hair behind his ear, tracing it up to the pointed tip then down to his jaw. As you did, the pulled away. “What? What is it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that the ears of an elf are highly sensitive…”

You scooted closer. “Is that so?” You placed your hand on the back of his head so he couldn’t pull away and with the other you hand you gently traced the edge of his ear.

He went to pull away but you held him fast and it only took a moment for him to go limp in your arms as you continued to mess with his ears.

You smiled as he lay with his back pressed against your chest. His eyes were shut and his lips slightly parted as you continued to gently mess with his adorable pointed ears.

You smiled as a soft blush spread across his cheeks and the tip of his nose. “Aww, you look so cute when you blush…”

He opened an eye and looked up at you before he closed his eye again.

“Elrond…” you whispered after a moment.

The elven lord didn’t answer. He didn’t even stir and on top of that his breathing has slowed. You smiled and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his forehead before closing your eyes as well.

Legolas:

You and Legolas had been close for some time now and you had innocently came up behind him and began to mess with his hair, slightly damp from having recently washed it.

He turned to look at you. “Y/n?” You began to braid the hair by his ears, putting it into the style he normally wore. He relaxed and let you fix his hair for him. All went well until the last braid. Your pinky slowly slid down the outside of his ear as you braided it. He leaned back until his head fell on your chest as he breathed deeply.

“Legolas?”

“Ears…sensitive…elves…” he mumbled.

You smiled and kissed his temple. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You asked, finishing off the braid.

He shrugged as you then went and touched the tip of his ear. He smiled and closed his eyes. “I knew you’d… mess with… me…”

Thranduil:

You chuckled as he walked into one of the manny tents that lined the elven war camp. “What is so funny?” He asked, draping his cape over a chair.

You walked up to him. “Here,” you said, motioning for him to lean down a bit. He did, raising an eyebrow, you gently adjusted the silver crown, re-centering it in his forehead. As you did, you bumped the top of his ear. His eyelids fluttered for a moment before his hands flew up and grasped your wrists in one swift movement. You yelped in shock.

He loosened his grip a bit and gently rubbed your wrists.

You whimpered. “L-lord Thranduil?”

He sighed and let go of your wrists before standing straight and looking down at your startled face.

He sighed. “Sometimes I forget you are half human… elves ears are highly sensitive…”

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t know I-”

His lips met yours as he slowly brought your hands to this ears. You hesitated a moment before gently rubbing your finger along his ear. He let go of your wrists and pulled your body closer. “Y/n…”

Lindir:

Lindir had been messing with you in a playful matter all day and you eventually decided to play back. You gently took his face in your hands. “You stubborn… elf…”

You had expected his eyes to widen and him to turn an adorable shade of pink but instead his eyes fluttered closed and lips parted slightly. “Y-y/n…m-my ears…”

“Hmmm… are they sensitive?”

“Yes, v-very…”

“Well it would be a shame if someone were to oh I don’t know perhaps…” you stood on the tips of your toes and very gently took the tip of his ear between your teeth.

His body instantly went limp and you gently lowered him to the ground before nipping gently at his ear while you ran your fingers through his hair.

He clawed at your back. “Y-y/n…”

You smiled. “Hmmm?”

He managed to look up at you before something took over his brain and his lips smashed on yours. “I love you…”

Your eyes widened. You’d only been dating him for a few days. You hadn’t even told anyone and here he was, kissing you as if you’d been together for years.

You pulled away, startled. “Lindir?”

He looked up at you with pleading eyes before he realized what he had done and he scooted away. “Y/n I-I’m sorry i-”

You pressed your lips on his again and began to mess with his ears once more. “I love you too.”

pt two here

#lord elrond x reader #lord elrond #Lord of the rings #x reader #legolas x reader #legolas #lindir x reader #lindir #thrandiul x reader #thranduil #kat651 #lotr

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thewulf · 7 months ago

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Entwined Realms || Legolas

Summary: Request: So I thought about this idea with Legolas x reader where the reader is the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn (which makes her princess of Lothlorien and a very high elf) and she is nervous because its commonly known that Galadriel and Thranduil dont like each other (she is still his superior but you get the point) and the reader and Legolas have a dinner or some council or something together with their parents.

A/N: This was one of my favs to write. Just love everything LOTR... please keep them coming! Thank you for the request @lillisummers

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.1k +

TW: Talks of war/death

In the timeless realm of Lothlórien, you, the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, walked among the golden trees with a heavy heart filled with the weight of ancient grudges. It had been many years since you last tread upon these familiar paths, for you had spent much of your time in Rivendell, aiding in the healing of those who bore the scars of war.

As a princess of the high elves, you bore the burden of your lineage with grace. Yet the tension between your mother and Thranduil, the Elvenking of Mirkwood, weighed heavily upon you. The animosity between them was no secret, and you often found yourself caught in the midst of their disagreements. You were torn between loyalty to your mother and the desire for unity among your people after the war of the ring. Your return to Lothlórien had been sudden, called back by your father during the darkest days of the war. The news of battles raging across middle earth had filled you with dread. Yet, you knew that your place was by your family's side, lending whatever aid you could in the struggle against the darkness.

Despite the discord that lingered between your realms you held onto hope, believing in the power of unity to overcome adversity. The memories of Celebrian's capture and torture haunted you still. She drove your determination to see an end to the suffering that had plagued your people for so long.

As you walked beneath the golden canopy of the trees, you found solace in the familiar sights and sounds of Lothlórien. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the branches. They spoke to you of peace and beauty, reminding you of all that was worth fighting for in this world. Your steps carried you towards a familiar spot. The quiet glade where the gravestones of those fallen in battle lay. The air was hushed. The only sound was the soft whisper of leaves and the gentle trickle of water from the nearby streams.

Stopping by the gravestones, you traced your fingers over each weathered stone, feeling the weight of loss settle upon your heart. Here, beneath the earth, lay the brave souls who had given their lives in service of a greater cause. A cause that you had fought for alongside them. Your thoughts turned to Haldir, the gallant Marchwarden who had stood by your side in the darkest of times. His laughter, his kindness, his unwavering loyalty… they were memories that you held dear, memories that would live on long after he had passed from this world. At one point you were convinced you would marry him but that was before he was taken so suddenly from you.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself a moment of silence. A moment to remember those who had been taken from you too soon. Their faces flashed before your eyes, friends, fighters, and loved ones alike. Each one leaving behind an indelible mark upon your soul. And yet, amidst the sorrow, there was also hope. Hope for a future where their sacrifices would not be in vain. Where the darkness would be banished for good and the light would shine so brightly once more. With a silent prayer upon your lips, you vowed to carry their memory with you always, to honor their legacy in all that you did.

As you stood amidst the gravestones, lost in memories and reflections, a soft voice broke through the silence. She was calling your name. You turned to see your mother, Galadriel, approaching with a gentle smile upon her lips. Her eyes, always so wise and knowing, held a depth of understanding that eased the ache in your heart.

"Y/n," she said, her voice like the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind, "I have been searching for you. It is good to see you home again. You look well my love."

You returned her smile, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you at the sight of her familiar face. "It is good to be home, Mother," you replied, stepping forward to embrace her.

Galadriel held you close, tight. Her arms a reassuring embrace amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling within you. "You have been missed, my dear," she said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As you pulled away, Galadriel's gaze softened. Her eyes filled with a mixture of pride and affection. "There is much to discuss," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "But first, I have news that I believe will bring you much joy."

Curiosity piqued, you listened as Galadriel spoke of the upcoming marriage between your niece, Arwen, and Aragorn, the King of Gondor. The news filled you with a sense of anticipation, the prospect of a wedding bringing a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that had shrouded middle earth for so long. "I would be honored to attend," you said. Your heart swelling with love for your family and excitement for the joyous occasion to come.

Galadriel smiled, her eyes sparkling with pride. "I had no doubt that you would," she said, her voice tinged with warmth. "Come, let us return to Caras Galadhon and begin preparations. There is much to do, and little time to waste." She motioned you to follow her.

With a nod of agreement, you fell into step beside your mother. It felt as though the weight of grief and loss lightened by the promise of love and celebration on the horizon. As you walked the golden light of Lothlórien illuminated your path guiding you towards a future filled with possibility.

Too quickly the day of celebration arrived. The grand halls of Minas Tirith were adorned with banners and flowers, filling the air with a sense of festivity and anticipation. You, dressed in your finest elven attire, mingled with the guests. Your heart was aflutter with excitement and nerves for your niece and the King of Gondor. Amidst the bustling crowd, your eyes scanned the faces of those gathered taking in the sight of strangers and acquaintances alike. And then your gaze met that of a mysterious elven stranger across the ornate courtyard who you did not recognize.

His eyes were a captivating shade of blue. They held a warmth and kindness that drew you in, sending a shiver down your spine. For a brief moment it felt as though the world around you had faded away leaving only you and this enigmatic stranger in a universe of your own making. But as quickly as the moment had come, it was gone. Broken by the sound of laughter and music drifting through the air you tore your gaze away. Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of curiosity and excitement, heart racing with the memory of that brief but electrifying encounter.

Though you knew not who he was, nor what fate had in store for you. You couldn't shake the feeling that this chance meeting was somehow significant. And as you allowed yourself to be swept away by the joyous festivities you couldn't help but wonder about the identity of the mysterious elven stranger who had captured your attention with a single glance.

As the celebration unfolded you found yourself standing beside Arwen, basking in the glow of her happiness as she greeted guests and well-wishers. The air was filled with laughter and music. The joyous atmosphere infectious as people celebrated the union of Arwen and Aragorn. But amidst the revelry your attention kept drifting back to the beautiful blonde elf who had caught your eye earlier. He stood amidst a group of guests, his presence commanding and his gaze holding a quiet intensity that seemed to draw you in.

Unable to contain your curiosity any longer you turned to Arwen with a hint of nervousness in your voice. "Arwen," you began, pointing subtly towards the mysterious elf, "who is that?"

Arwen followed your gaze, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she noticed your interest in the stranger. "Ah, him," she said, her tone tinged with mystery. "That is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood."

Legolas. The name echoed in your mind. Though you knew little about him there was something about the way he carried himself, the way his eyes seemed to hold a thousand untold stories that intrigued you beyond measure. As Arwen spoke of Legolas' exploits and noble deeds you found yourself captivated by the tales of his courage and valor. And though you knew it was foolish to be so taken with a stranger, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to him. Something that called to you on a level you couldn't quite understand.

With a grateful smile you thanked Arwen for indulging your curiosity. Though your mind was already consumed with thoughts of the mysterious Prince of Mirkwood. And as you turned your attention back to the festivities you couldn't help but wonder what secrets lay hidden beneath the surface of the captivating blonde elf who had captured your attention with a single glance.

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere grew more relaxed. You found yourself drawn into the lively conversations and laughter that filled the air.

As if he had known your every thought, he had come right up to you. A charming smile playing on his lips as he offered you a goblet of wine. "Care for some wine, my lady?" he asked, his voice smooth and all too inviting.

Grateful for the distraction you accepted the goblet with a smile, the cool liquid soothing the nerves that had been fluttering in your stomach. "Thank you," you replied, taking a sip and relishing the taste of the rich, fruity wine.

As you savored the wine, Legolas took a seat beside you. His eyes alight with curiosity as he extended his hand in introduction. "I am Legolas," he said, his tone warm and genuine. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

You felt a rush of excitement at the sound of his name, "And I am Y/n," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness that you quickly tried to mask.

Legolas smiled warmly at you, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he raised his own goblet in a silent toast. "Well then, Y/n, here's to new acquaintances and delightful conversations," he spoke.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself drawn into conversation with Legolas. His easy charm and quick wit putting you at ease. Despite your initial nervousness you soon found yourself laughing and chatting with him as if you had known each other for years. With each passing moment you felt yourself growing more and more enchanted by Legolas. His presence filling you with a sense of warmth and belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time. Not since before your sister had set sail. And as you shared stories and laughter with the captivating Prince of Mirkwood you couldn't help but wonder what adventures lay in store for you both in the days to come.

When the topic turned to your family, you couldn't help but feel a pang of apprehension, unsure of how he would react upon learning the truth. "Your parents must be proud of you," Legolas remarked, his voice sincere as he glanced around at the grandeur of Minas Tirith. "To have a daughter as kind and courageous as you."

You smiled, touched by his words. Though a part of you hesitated to reveal your true lineage. "Thank you, Legolas," you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "My parents... they are indeed proud, though our family is not without its complexities."

Legolas cocked his head with curiosity shining bright in his eyes. "Complexities?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for his reaction. "My parents are Celeborn and Galadriel," you confessed, watching closely for any sign of recognition or judgment in his expression.

To your surprise, Legolas' eyes widened in genuine surprise, his gaze softening with understanding. "Galadriel," he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. "The Lady of Light herself. And Celeborn, the Lord of Lothlórien."

You nodded, relieved by his reaction. "Yes, though our family is not without its challenges," you admitted, your voice growing quiet. "There are... tensions between my parents and certain others in Middle-earth." You knew he knew, and he knew you knew. The two of you were dancing around your parents disdain for the other.

Legolas' expression grew somber. A shadow passing over his features. "I understand," he said, his tone tinged with empathy. "My own father, Thranduil, can be... difficult at times."

You felt a surge of empathy for Legolas knowing all too well the challenges that could arise from strained familial relationships. "It seems we are not so different after all," you said. A small smile playing at your lips.

Legolas returned your smile, his eyes warm and understanding. "Indeed," he said, his voice gentle. "But perhaps together, we can find a way to bridge the divide between our families."

Touched by his sincerity you could only keep grinning at him like a fool. "I would like that, Legolas," you replied. Your heart swelled with gratitude for the bond that was beginning to form between you.

As the night wore on into the wee hours of the morning you and Legolas found yourselves drawn deeper into each other's company. The hours quickly slipping away unnoticed as you laughed and talked beneath the starlit sky. The connection between you grew stronger with each passing moment. A bond of friendship and understanding blossoming into something deeper and more profound. Unfortunately, the celebration began to wind down. You found yourselves reluctant to part ways. The prospect of saying goodbye filling you with a sense of melancholy. "Perhaps we could extend our stay in Minas Tirith," Legolas suggested, his voice tinged with a hint of worry as if you wouldn’t accept. "There is still so much more to see and do. I have not seen this city without war disparaging it."

You nodded eagerly, the idea of spending more time with Legolas filling you with a sense of joy and excitement. "I would like that very much," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "There is still so much more we have yet to see. You distracted me tonight."

And so, you and Legolas remained in Minas Tirith for longer than planned, seizing every opportunity to steal away moments alone together amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. Whether wandering the streets hand in hand or sharing quiet conversations in secluded corners. Each moment spent in Legolas' company felt like a precious treasure, a memory to be cherished for eternity.

As your extended stay in Minis Tirith came to an end the bond between you and Legolas deepened further than you could have imagined. Your hearts intertwining in a dance as old as time itself. One evening beneath the stars after your going away dinner the two of you sat together in the quiet solitude of the gardens, surrounded by the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of crickets. The words you had been longing to say spilled forth from your lips.

"Legolas," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "there is something I must confess to you." It truly was now or never for you did not know the next time you would see the elf that had captured your heart so quickly.

Legolas turned to you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Yes, Y/n?" he replied, his voice soft and reassuring.

"I know this is quick,” you began, your voice soft and hesitant, "And we tend to do this slow, but I must admit... I really like you. More than a friend would."

You glanced away, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you awaited his response. But when you dared to meet his gaze once more you found Legolas looking at you with a tender smile. His eyes filled with a warmth that mirrored your own feelings.

"Y/n," he said softly, reaching out to gently take your face in his hand, "your honesty means the world to me. I too have come to care for you deeply as well. As more than a friend would."

Your heart soared at his words. A sense of joy flooding through you at the knowledge that your feelings were reciprocated. And as you sat together in the quiet beauty of the gardens you knew that your bond with Legolas was something truly special. It was the beginning of a love story that was just beginning to unfold.

You didn’t want the night to end so you kept your wandering through the gardens. "Legolas," you began, your voice tinged with concern, "what do you think about... our families?"

Legolas glanced at you. His gaze thoughtful. "Ah, our esteemed parents," he replied with a wry smile. "Stubborn as ancient oaks and twice as difficult to move."

You couldn't help but laugh at his analogy, feeling a sense of relief at his lighthearted approach to the situation. "Yes, that's one way to put it," you agreed. A smile playing at the corners of your lips.

"But," Legolas continued, his tone turning more serious, "I believe they will come around in time. After all, love has a way of softening even the hardest of hearts."

You nodded feeling a flicker of hope kindling within you. "I hope you're right," you replied, leaning closer to him. "I just want them to see... how much we care for each other."

Legolas placed a comforting arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer to him. "They will, Y/n," he said softly, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "And until then, we'll just have to prove them wrong together."

As your time in Minas Tirith drew to a close, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was time for your parents and Legolas to meet. Despite the tension between your families, you were determined to show them that love knew no bounds, and that their differences could be set aside in the name of happiness.

On the morning that both of you were to depart you knew what you had to do. "Legolas," you began. Your voice tinged with nervousness, "I know it's unconventional, but... what if you and your father were to visit Lothlórien?"

Legolas blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by your suggestion. "Visit Lothlórien?" he echoed, his brow furrowing in thought. "It's an... intriguing idea, Y/n, but I'm not sure how my father would feel about it."

You nodded, understanding Legolas' reservations. "I know it's a risk," you admitted, "but I believe that if he could experience the beauty and hospitality of Lothlórien for himself, he might begin to understand... and perhaps even appreciate our way of life."

Legolas considered your words for a moment before a smile spread across his face. "You may be right, Y/n," he said, his eyes alight with excitement. "Let's extend the invitation to my father and see what he says."

With a renewed sense of hope, you and Legolas set about preparing for Thranduil's visit to Lothlórien. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you were determined to show both him and your parents that love could conquer even the deepest of divides. And so, with hearts full of anticipation and determination, you bid farewell to Minas Tirith. You knew that a new chapter of your journey was about to begin.

As Legolas and an initially reluctant Thranduil arrived in Lothlórien, the tension between them was palpable. Thranduil's expression was stoic and reserved, while Legolas wore a strained smile who was clearly uncomfortable with the situation. You greeted them warmly, hoping to ease the atmosphere, but even your efforts seemed to fall flat in the face of the lingering animosity between your parents. The initial interactions were awkward only filled with polite but strained conversation and forced smiles.

But as the evening progressed and the wine flowed freely the atmosphere began to shift. Your parents, Thranduil, and Legolas found themselves gradually relaxing in each other's company. The rigid barriers between them slowly melting away under the influence of hope after the war and shared experiences. You watched with a mixture of joy and relief as the tension dissipated, replaced by laughter and genuine conversation. Thranduil who had initially been so guarded found himself opening up. He began to share stories and jokes with Celeborn and Galadriel as if they were old friends.

And Legolas, too, seemed to come alive in the warmth of his father’s acceptance. His smile growing more genuine with each passing moment. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders finally allowing him to truly be himself in their presence. He chuckled at one of Thranduil's jokes and clinked glasses with Celeborn, a genuine smile gracing his features.

In the midst of the conversation Legolas turned to you, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Meleth nin," he said softly, his voice filled with utmost warmth.

As Legolas inadvertently uttered the Elvish endearment, my love, the words hung in the air laden with the weight of unspoken emotions. Your heart skipped a beat at his slip-up, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you.

"Really?" you exclaimed. Your eyes widened with surprise and utmost delight. For a moment you almost forgot that your parents and Legolas' father were present too caught up in the rush of emotion that swept over you.

Legolas blinked, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he realized what he had said in front of the parents. "I... uh, I mean..." he stammered, clearly flustered by your reaction.

But before he could finish, Thranduil let out a soft chuckle. The elvenking’s eyes twinkling with amusement. "It seems our children are more than just friends," he remarked to your parents. His tone surprisingly light-hearted.

You turned to your parents with a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I guess we should have mentioned that sooner," you admitted feeling a surge of relief as you saw their understanding smiles.

Celeborn and Galadriel exchanged knowing glances before Celeborn spoke up. "Love has a way of revealing itself in unexpected ways," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "We are happy for you both."

Thranduil let out a small chuckle. His eyes crinkling with amusement. "Young love," he said before shaking his head in mock exasperation. "It seems like only yesterday that Legolas was just a boy chasing after butterflies in the woods."

Legolas rolled his eyes playfully at his father's comment. "I assure you, Ada, I have grown up a bit since then," he spoke. His tone teasing but affectionate.

Celeborn chuckled softly his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Indeed," he agreed, his voice warm. "But some things never change." He motioned to you with a knowing grin.

And as the tension melted away completely, replaced by laughter, and shared understanding, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unwavering support of your parents. With their blessing and acceptance, you and Legolas knew that your love story was only just beginning. You were finally destined to have a beautiful and unforgettable journey filled with laughter, joy, and the sweet promise of a future together. You had waited a long time for this. A very long time.

As the night grew deeper and the fire crackled softly, you and Legolas found yourselves immersed in a comfortable silence. The two of you basking in the warmth of each other's presence. Legolas turned to you with a playful glint in his eyes, taking your hand in his. "Well, my dear, it seems the hour grows late," he remarked, his voice soft and warm.

You nodded feeling a surge of affection for the elf beside you. "Yes, it does," you replied, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

With a gentle tug on your hand Legolas rose to his feet pulling you up with him. "Allow me to escort you to your room," he said. His voice filled with gentle sincerity.

You followed him, the touch of his hand sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. As you reached your door, Legolas turned to you. His eyes sparkling with mischief. "Until next time, meleth nin," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before turning to leave.

A faint blush coated your cheeks at his actions. “Until next time, meleth nin.” You repeated. You watched him go with a smile playing at your lips as you realized that no matter what adventures lay ahead, you would face them with him. Oh, what a life.

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itsonlydana · 10 months ago

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"I Didn't Know That I Was Starving Till I Tasted You" | hobbit

➛ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

➛ When you get stood up by your date all you want to do is morph with the couch, eat ice cream and watch Pride & Prejudice. It's a shame your roommate/best friend Thranduil doesn't agree with those plans.

➛ warnings/tags: modern!au, roommate!au, friends-to-lovers, chef!thranduil, swf, kissing

➛ words: 9,3k

➛ an: sooo let's ignore that i said i wasn't writing anymore <3 i'm still not taking request but i have a few fics that i'll post over the next few weeks!

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The sound of keys turning in the lock sounds through your apartment before the door opens and closes, making you wince.

The piano music playing through the expensive stereo system is loud enough that you could blame your reaction for not reacting to it. After a brief moment, a deep voice echoes from the hallway, marked by an incredulous "Huh?" and followed by an urgent "What?" accompanied by hurried footsteps.

"Hello?! What– what are you still doing here? You should be dressed up and in a cab by now!"

Your roommate and best friend Thranduil rushes into the living room, you can see his tall figure out of your peripheral vision.

Not that it would change where he stands.

You don't bother to turn around and continue to hide between the mountain of pillows and blankets you had accumulated on the couch, watching the movie playing on the big screen in front of you.

"Uhh– Mister Bingley arrived from the North," you comment on the happenings of the Bennets' house, a spoonful of ice cream held to your mouth.

Thranduil steps closer, dropping his coat and a bag on the wing chair next to the couch. "What–"

Instead of answering his question, you let the ice cream melt on your tongue, mumbling a "5000 a year?" with a mouth full of chocolate.

"Talk to me, woman!"

"He's single!" you sigh happily and throw a dramatic hand in the air.

Before you can lower it again, Thranduil snaps and snatches your hand, cold fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you towards him. Finally, you look up to him and are confronted with your very baffled-looking best friend.

"If you don't tell me why you aren't on the way to the fabulous third date with Marcus-"

"Jake."

Thranduil rolls his eyes at the interruption: "Fine, why aren't you on the third date with Jake right now and instead sulk on the couch watching Pride & Prejudice again? I thought we promised to take a break from watching it anyway."

You push out your lower lip, pouting. "I'm not sulking," you say in a tone so drawn out it completely defiles your statement. Thranduil doesn't say anything, he just lets his gaze slowly wander over the blankets you are buried under, to the half-eaten ice cream bucket to the TV where the Bennet sisters are currently caught eavesdropping on their parents' conversation. He doesn't need words to express himself, the judgment is silent in words but loud in the raise of his dark eyebrow.

"Fine," you groan, admitting defeat. "He canceled."

Thranduil's gaze softens as he sits down next to you on the edge of the sofa and he slowly drops your hand from his grip. "He canceled," he repeats, eyes falling back to the ice cream.

"He canceled," you confirm with a sigh "Just like I predicted- so I don't know why I even bothered to dress up. I even bought that stupid dress just because he wanted to go out to this new fancy Italian place. He canceled and because I waited 15 minutes for him to not show up, standing outside - in the cold might I add- I think I am allowed to sulk a little!"

In the end, you had talked yourself into quite a rage and fall back into the pillows, your arms crossed in front of your chest. "And no, you said I should take a break from watching that movie but since you are not my mother I am allowed to watch whatever!"

You pierce him with a glare but only for a moment before you deflate.

"Sorry for getting all bitchy there," you shuffle around, hands searching for the remote to stop the movie.

"It's alright," Thranduil says and cocks his head. "Now that you are done, am I allowed to go after him and nail his balls to the ground for standing you up?"

A smile tugs on your lips as you shake your head. "No, you are not. I'm sure he has his reasons." The reason wasn't spelled out in the message but after hopping around in the dating scene for a while now, you know what ´I'm sorry but I don't think we really fit. You are a great person though!´ means.

It was nothing new, though it hurt the same as it did the first time.

"Well, unless there was a sudden death in his family I don't see a reason why he couldn't have canceled before the date," he huffs "-you know like a normal person would do"

You shrug your shoulders. "It's done now. Maybe it just wasn't supposed to happen."

"No, it wasn't. Not with a guy like him," Thranduil shakes his head, the long braid of silver blonde hair getting even more disheveled by the movement. "You deserve a man that doesn't cancel, doesn't let you stand outside in the cold!"

"Yes," you sigh again, staring wistfully at the TV "my Mister Darcy."

"He was literally the reason why Elizabeth ran out into the rain and cold," Thranduil responds deadpanned and you throw a pillow in his direction which he elegantly catches.

"I will not stand for this Darcy-hate! Ugh, you are such a bad friend," you whine, "I got stood up and you are making fun of one of the two people who have never let me down.. one person now that you decided to be a meanie!" You once again pout.

This time it works, a little too well because suddenly Thranduil looks at you with that one look of him, the one that breaks through every defense you could build up. He looks at you like you just told him you were dying, all the compassion he can find in his otherwise cold heart spilling out of his cerulean eyes that wander over your face.

"You know you have every right to feel sad about the date not happening," he says carefully, tilting his head slightly in a way that oozes pity, "You were looking forward to it, you even bought a dress for it. Let me cheer you up, I can cook something for you and we can watch a movie later or we can go out and drink until I have to hold your hair in the bathrooms." He smiles softly, sincere and it makes you want to jump up from the couch and hide in your room.

You two didn't do sincere; you bantered, you made jokes on behalf of the other and you most certainly did not comfort each other after a failed date. Your friendship needed lightheartedness, it thrived on sarcasm and arguments about everything and anything that came to your minds.

But the offer is tempting, especially the cooking part. Thranduil is a chef, working in his own restaurant; 'The Green Leaf' and he did a damn good job at it. Most nights, like this one, he comes home and cooks for you because apparently, Goldfish crackers were not as good for your diet as one part of the name misled you to believe and even though you made fun of Thranduils diet as well, fully vegan and with a distaste for anything that made life worth living like chocolate ice cream, he knew exactly how to whip up a meal that had you salivating.

You stare him down, weighing your options. Option one was to remain on the couch where you would shovel the ice cream down until you would inevitably get sick, watching Pride & Prejudice and mourning the never-happening and probably very boring date you would’ve had.

Option two would entail a doubtlessly very delicious meal as well as the possibility of getting drunk as fuck in a bar.

The choice comes easy.

"Okay," you agree and raise a pointed finger at him as a victorious grin spreads on his lips "But-" you wiggle the finger "you will not do this out of pity because I do not need pity from a man!"

Thranduil's grin only seems to grow, lightening up his eyes "No of course not. No pity here. I promise!" He stands up from the couch in a hurry, grabbing the bag he had left on the chair. When you don't move except to reach for the remote again, he shakes his head. "Leave Mr. Darcy for another day, you have to change!"

"Change?" you ask bewildered, looking around the apartment. "I thought you were going to cook here and not at the restaurant. Why would I need to change now?"

Thranduil scoffs, turning his back to you to walk towards the kitchen, his voice growing louder as it's accompanied by the sound of the fridge opening.

"Because I know you spent the entire day planning your outfit. You said you bought a new dress and I will not cook you an entire meal for you to sit there in your sweatpants!" he calls out and you throw your head against the couch with a groan that has Thranduil leaning out of the kitchen door

"You want the food, you follow the chef's orders," he copies the raised finger in your direction "Don't be a brat, get your butt off the couch and into your room before I have to spank you! I'll call you when you can come out."

The threat is met with you sticking your tongue out and one second thinking you could defy the order but that is until he fakes a quick step back into the room and you peel the blankets away squeaking "I'm moving! I'm moving!" while stumbling through the living room. "Jeez"

Despite knowing he would never hurt you the thought of Thranduil spanking you has you blushing a ridiculous amount and you don't turn around so he doesn't see it.

"But just so you know, I will wear the dress but only so I don't have to squeeze myself into it after dinner when we go out!" you yell over your shoulder instead and you swear you hear him chuckle before you slip into your room and close the door behind you.

The sweatpants land on your bed, followed by the sweater you had put on after getting the text message from Jack. You remain in your underwear, which you hadn't been bothered to change and stare at yourself in the mirror of your wardrobe. You are confronted with the blush the spanking comment had left on your cheeks and down your neck, and you scowl at the image.

He is your best friend and roommate.

Get a grip!

The dress you had bought for the date still hangs on the wardrobe door, a short, and black number that wasn't something you would normally wear but when you had stalked the Instagram Account for the place you would’ve eaten at today, nothing already existent in your closet had seemed fitting.

Staring at it now you question the length as well as the relatively deep front and back. After all, this was a normal dinner with your best friend, right? Yes, you would maybe leave for a club or bar after this and you had worn all kinds of clothes for a night out with Thranduil in your company but this dress had been bought for the sole reasons of looking sexy and with the hopes of getting lucky.

You shake the thoughts away and grab the hanger with the dress on.

This was a normal dinner with your best friend and this was just a dress. He had seen you in other skimpy clothes and literally any other form of dressed as well as undressed on several accidental occasions. There is no need to think this over and fall into an endless spiral of doubts.

With a nod to yourself for this mature thinking, wow, aren't you a well-functioning grown-up? – you slip the garment over your head, pinching and twisting the fabric until it sits to your satisfaction.

The hem barely covers your thighs, just doing enough so it wouldn't flash your bottom at the slightest movement but showing enough leg for you to feel powerful. The same was with the deep neckline. Bending forward was not an option, though it would draw eyes on you, hopefully.

You put the discarded jewelry back on again, a subtle choker necklace and a pair of more flashy earrings with - sadly fake- diamonds dangling and catching the light in them. The makeup is done quickly as well, some touches of a brush on your jawline, some lovely shade of lipstick on your lips, the movement of routine flows through your body with no need to really think about it.

After spraying some of your favorite perfume on your neck and behind your ears you wait.

Sitting on the edge of your bed you wait and you definitely don't think back to Thranduil's statement. No. Never.

Maybe a little bit.

Because when he calls out for you a fifteen-minute heads-up, you feel the blush coming back and the suspicion confirms itself at the last look in the mirror. You raise your head, challenging the woman in the mirror with an arch of the eyebrow before walking out the door and into what could only be described as a fever dream.

The living room is dark, the moss green curtains pulled closed except for a small gap where the afternoon sun filters through into the flat. The dining room table is clear from all the jackets, mail and stuff that accumulates throughout the day and week that are usually thrown on it and instead, there are candles.

Candles!

Candles in silver candleholders, like actual burning candles. Next to the expensive-looking candleholders is a vase filled with lavender, full and flourished purple flowers that fill the room with a soft and dizzying smell.

Suddenly you are very glad you are not in your sweats anymore, there is a heat rising in your body and setting your cheeks aflame.

Fidgeting with your hands you quietly step forward into the room to the kitchen, your eyes flittering from the table to the cleaned-up sofas and then you can see Thranduil rushing from the counter to the stove.

His back is turned to you, offering you a view of broad shoulders and arms flexing beneath the white shirt he had changed into, and even worse, the tight black pants he now wears, showing off his long legs and- you look a little higher, checking him out and blushing like it's a guilty pleasure.

Of course, the pants would show off his perfect arse as well.

You shouldn't stare.

No matter how magnificent the sight is.

And oh, it surely is magnificent.

You snap back into reality, take a lavender-filled breath, and walk into the kitchen.

It's a beautiful kitchen, not one of the reasons you had first checked out the apartment but one that had tipped the arguments for it in the end. And you are glad it did, because when you had taken roommate applications Thranduil simply waltzed into it, nodded and offered you the first year of rent with 25% on top of it if you would remove the pop-into-the-microwave-Lasagna from the freezer and never dared to buy something like that again.

His brisk and bold and sometimes very harsh attitude would've maybe frightened any other person off but you had seen the money, the prospect of a cook as a roommate and a handsome one at that, and had held out the contract with one hand while the other threw out the lasagna.

And look where that had brought you.

The kitchen is now filled with more vegetables than you have ever seen in one place that isn't a market, there is nearly always a pot with something ready for you on the stove and the fondest memories you have with Thranduil are baking Christmas cookies, throwing flour into each others faces so that your hair had been colored white like Thranduils, or you learning how to cut vegetables under his stern gaze because "No, you can not cut a carrot the same way you cut the bell pepper!"

Now here he is again, creating a memory that will never let you go.

You let your eyes wander over the stove, where one pot is cooking rice, the other has some onions caramelizing with garlic from the smell of it and Thranduil has one pan in his hand, throwing some cut tofu into the air while he brushes some oil onto white dough stretched into hand-sized bits.

He is fully in his element, maneuvering what seems like a three-course meal without any help or breaking a sweat. Setting down the pan with the tofu (hadn't that been a fun journey of convincing until you had let him cook that without any protest?) he wipes his hand on the towel thrown over his shoulder and turns to the cutting board on the kitchen island. He has even more flowers on the island, pink gerberas and white orchids stand next to his array of mint, basil and rosemary.

You have no idea what has gotten into him, there have never been this many flowers in your apartment except for the few ones some of your dates had bought you and even then they landed in the trash a couple of days later.

Sometimes Thranduil had even said he had confused them for some swept-in leaves after you asked him where the last bouquet went.

The man was truly an enigma.

"Smells good in here," you say and lean over the stove.

Thranduil clicks his tongue against his teeth. With a soft growl, he presses out a "Move," not sounding really annoyed but disturbed by you being in his way and with a giggle you move away to grant him free access to the pots.

"What is on the menu today, Chef?" you ask as you hop onto the island. No matter how much space Thranduil needs for cooking, he always leaves that one spot on the corner free for you to sit on.

"Tofu Tikka Masala you noisy girl," Thranduil doesn't turn around and for a minute you want him to see you, see the dress you have put on but then your gaze falls onto his back again and you blush.

Thank god, he didn't turn to find you checking him out, again.

"Couldn't you have waited until I told you the food is ready? Now I have you sitting around here, distracting me, even though I don't have a lot of time to begin with."

You know he is lying. He had told you more than once that you were a pleasure in the kitchen. Not at the stove but looking pretty sitting on your spot on the island and not touching a thing.

"Well, we could have ordered some pizza," you tease him, and he grunts. When he still doesn't turn around, you lean forward, a smirk on your lips. "Or we could have gone out to 'Oakenshields' and-" The rest of the sentence dies on your lips as Thranduil's whole body snaps around and you nearly squeak when he leans into your space.

Nose against nose, he stares you down, cerulean eyes holding yours without any playfulness in them. "You are on very thin ice," he says quietly and while you know he still doesn't mean it like that, you squirm under the gaze and sudden rush of adrenalin that his proximity is causing your head to swim.

"Yeah?" you ask breathlessly, sounding way too excited for your own good, and you try kicking him against his chin but he catches your leg before it hits him, and as soon as his hands grab the bare skin he lets go again, falling back like it had shocked him physically.

Cerulean eyes drop, leaving your face that suddenly goes up in flames and for a second you can see his breath hitch, his chest moving at the sharp inhale of air as he takes you in. The moment builds up, the atmosphere between you changes and charges with something and for this short, stopped moment in time you allow yourself to think:

'What if?'

Then a timer goes off, distant at first but growing louder when Thranduil's face shifts back to the usual calm facade that reflects not a thing of what is going on in his head. He sniffs, hiding behind his dark eyebrows when he lowers his head and pats you gently on your thighs.

"I'll rather perish than go to 'Oakenshields'," he rasps, the raw edge in his voice the only remnant showing that he was affected by whatever that had been between you.

Then he turns around and pushes the tray with dough into the oven.

He covers it up professionally with the joke, of course, because Thranduil Oropherion could never have been seen with feelings that go deeper than what any human would consider barely amiable.

Yes, he is your best friend and he makes an effort around you to not be the coldhearted asshole he is too, for example, Thorin Oakenshield, owner of the restaurant slash bar that the last critic had called a "serious opponent in the gourmet chef world".

Thranduil took the news so well that he had a furious meltdown of cooking for nearly 20 hours to create a menu that he would serve the critic to show him Thorin was not to put anywhere near him on a culinary level before he threatened to buy the paper the man was working for and fire him.

He only calmed down when he found out the critic had persisted to order his own wine choices and not the ones Thranduil had carefully paired with each course so he had decided that the man had no taste whatsoever and he couldn't give a shit about what he had said.

You had seen the irony in his statement and the state of him, tired, overworked, still behaving like a diva and you had just stifled a laugh and helped him clean the mess in the kitchen.

It was one of those moments that shows you he cares more than he leads on, about life, about people, about what the world thought of him but when it comes to love the man is as warm as deep diving naked in the antarctic would be.

He can be nice, living with him was pleasant and it got a whole lot more comfortable when you got to know each other better.

He makes jokes, he shows you how much he appreciates you through his food, you two watch movies together, go out, get drunk, get home and giggle when one of you trips on the doormat and after a few months he even lets you fall asleep on him when you came home crying because a date didn't go well.

You had seen him drive home in a frenzy when his mother had called him about his younger brother breaking his leg climbing trees, and he had another friend, Bard, with whom he had a friendly get-together every now and again; it was only the romance part he never talks about, never shows, never ever makes room for.

While you go out for dates- he works.

When you meet someone at the club you dance, you make out, you go home with someone else- Thranduil just ignores any woman or man who talks to him.

Thranduil's love life (if existent) is a mystery to you and that makes it even more confusing why he had looked at you the way he did just now. Why would he suddenly decide to buy flowers, to cook you an entire meal because you had been stood up and play-dress up?

Your brain is steaming with these thoughts by the time you catch up with reality again, a snap of fingers in front of your face pulls you back and you blink, slightly dazed. Thranduil stands next to you, body facing the cutting board in front of him but you can see him sneaking a peek towards you out of the corner of his eyes.

"Do you know what you want to do after dinner yet?" he asks, slicing some cilantro and parsley.

His long fingers wrap around the shiny knife elegantly, drawing your gaze in and keeping it locked onto the movement of him cutting a lemon in half and drizzling a few drops of juice into the bowl with the herbs.

You try not to stare at the few drops wetting his palm.

"We should go out," you say, voice wavering in between a question and a hoarse croak. You swallow and move your head before your eyes follow a few seconds later, blinking up at Thranduil. "There is this new rooftop bar- they opened a few days ago and are still baiting people in with the two-for-one drink offer."

Thranduil smirks, leaning his hip against the counter and wiping his hand on the towel. "Ah, yes, because that went so well the last time?" he inquires, eyebrow raised teasingly.

"I couldn't possibly know what you are talking about, Thranduil," you purse your lips, suppressing the smile just barely that threatens to spill out at the memory of the last time you went to a new bar, trying out the "new and never been done before"-drinks the small hipster bar had promised you and that'd ended up being the worst cocktails you ever had.

"You still owe me for the trousers I had to get dry-cleaned because you missy-" he half-threateningly holds out his pointy finger again, "you missed the toilet"

"You could have shoved me in the right direction!"

"Ah yes, blame the man that saved you from throwing up all over your date," Thranduil turns away again, adding coconut milk and chopped tomatoes into the pot with the garlic and onions.

"Occupational hazard of being my friend," you say, giving him the brightest and most dearest smile when he holds out a spoon he'd dipped into the curry, before leaning in and wrapping your lips around it, letting the flavors swirl over your tongue.

Then a low hum leaves your throat, a sound not only shocking you but also Thranduil by the looks of it.

By the look of him.

There is a sudden pink covering his face, right around his nose, showing off his prominent cheekbones in a way that lifts the gorgeous feature even more. It is such an unusual sight, Thranduil, blushing, that you are taken aback by it and the spoon slips out of your lips, nearly falling when Thranduil pulls it out of your mouth, clearing his throat suspiciously loud and rough that it sounds physically hurtful.

He steps back, hiding behind a "Good then?" that you can only agree to with a low "Yes" because– firstly you could never correct him on the taste of something he prepares, he knows your taste well enough to always get the spices perfectly adjusted to your preferences, and secondly your head is blissfully empty for any other answer.

The moment passes, gets drowned out by another timer going off, followed by Thranduil shifting into chef-mode as you endearingly call the shift in his demeanor into a controlled acrobat when he starts handling all those pants and pots, stirring here, tasting there, focusing on everything all at once with a concentration that nothing could penetrate.

You sit back and watch him with a soft smile, observing him as he pulls the bread out of the oven, and exchanges the tray with two dark green bowls out of the cabinets to warm them up in the leftover heat.

He moves with a grace that you surely could not copy, all of his long limbs knowing exactly when to push the rice away from the burner, ducking away when the steam of pouring the hot water into the sink would have given your face a free steaming and all that while looking extremely put together with his tight pant- braid! and white shirt he didn't even bother protecting with an apron like he always forces you to wear.

It's frustrating and attractive how much confidence he oozes in the kitchen. You wonder how the cooks managed to do their job without dropping to the floor and praising him like the godly being he seems to be.

He looks perfectly put together when he finishes plating up and ushers you back into the living room, where you are forced to sit down while he disappears into the kitchen and brings the plates and bowls, shaking off your offer to help every time you can barely start the question.

So you do what is expected of you and you wait, brushing off some hair of your dress- long silver blond strands that you twirl around your finger.

The kitchen light gets dimmed and Thranduil comes into the living room one last time, holding a bottle of wine in his hands that by the looks of it, and by that you mean expensive as fuck, must have been nicked from the restaurant.

He fills your glass, then his own and finally sits down on the other side of the table.

Before you can say something, he raises his glass, "To this evening."

You smile and raise your glass to his, "To Marcus-" Thranduil's eyebrow twitches but you only smile wider "Thank god he canceled, I much rather spend this night with good food and good company"

A deep chuckle accompanies the soft 'clink' of your glasses. You take a first sip, holding Thranduil's gaze over the rim and over the flicking fire of the candles that illuminate his face just right. The wine is smooth, and refreshing as it wets your suddenly dry throat.

You use the plate in front of you as an opportunity to look away without it feeling like you are fleeing from his gaze, even if the thought is heavy in your stomach.

"Everything looks delicious, Thranduil," you say, gesturing to the bowls with the rice and tofu tikka masala, the dough that turned out to be naan that he placed on a wooden board between the flowers and the candle.

Thranduil gives you an appreciative nod, grabbing a naan and ripping it apart. "I tried to make something that comes close to your planned meal of chocolate ice cream," there is a mocking tone in his voice, a drawl on the words chocolate ice cream that is the perfect mix between friendly teasing and his true disgust towards it.

You let out a giggle, following his example of dipping the naan into the curry. "Oh, you are so gracious for trying but we both know that ice cream is high above this. It doesn't even fall in the same food category to be able to compare. If you truly look at it, it's its own category"

"Never mind everything I have said, I've forgotten that I'm talking to the person who thinks a cup of coffee counts as an entire meal. How very stupid of me"

"Not everyone can start their morning looking like you do and have the energy to go out for a run and then cook breakfast," you shoot back, the realization of the compliment slipping out pours onto you when you see Thranduil's lips curve into a very self-satisfactory grin.

"So you are awake to notice," he leans back in his chair, popping another piece of the bread into his mouth and looking so smug that the urge to kick him is rising in you again. "You simply choose to act like you are non-responsive until you've had your coffee."

Instead of kicking him, you roll your eyes and fill your spoon with rice.

Yes, that was one way to put it.

The other would be that you are simply too scared you would say something very stupid and inappropriate when you watched him do his yoga in nothing but very tight pants while you sat on the couch and pretended to stare into empty space that just coincidently was very close to his arching form in front of the window.

"Yes, I live by the rule that coffee comes before any man."

"How rude, to consider me 'any' man," you want to say something but Thranduil is quicker to continue, shutting you up with that gorgeous smile, "Am I not the only man in your life right now who you don't leave on read after a while?"

"That is a very low bar to measure yourself with"

"Darling, those men you date offer nothing but low standards."

You nearly choke on the wine you'd reached for when Thranduil says these words, this term of endearment he casually throws into the sentence, far too confident to be a slip of tongue, far too soft to be meant as mocking.

He said it as if it had never not been there, as if it wasn't completely out of character. For a moment you consider reaching over the table to poke him, to make sure he is really here and not some (very accurate, word class if it truly was one) robotic imitation.

There is a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that only seems to twinkle brighter the longer you stare at him and you wonder if he feels like he has won the discussion or if he can hear your brain mulling over the 'darling'.

Either way, he doesn't comment on it further, not on this nor the matter of your dating.

Why he thought to do so in the first place was a mystery to you, another piece of the puzzle that was this evening. He had made comments about the men you were seeing before, subtle phrases made after glancing over to your screen and the conversations you were having, never really cruel but you wouldn't say that they were particularly nice either.

Sometimes when you came home from a night out, you never brought them back to your flat, Thranduil would simply raise an eyebrow, not saying anything and so much at the same time.

You dig back into your food and like always conversation flows naturally between you. Pushing the teasing and the sizzling of something warm in your stomach that you had felt in the kitchen away into the back of your mind you let yourself enjoy the moment, the comfort of sitting at the table, a nice dinner in front of you and the home-y feeling that was in the air.

Curry and naan fill your stomach as the wine settles in your head and laughter slips your tongue.

Empty plates get pushed aside, forgotten on the side of the table until later, making room for you to prop up one elbow and let your cheek rest in the palm of your hand as Thranduil talks about his newest ideas for his restaurant.

The candles flicker, coloring both your faces golden as the last bit of sunlight sneaks away from the tiny crack in the curtains.

After another glass of wine and some well-coordinated cleaning up, a hand-in-hand process of taking the plates into the kitchen where you load the dishwasher and Thranduil wipes down the pots and pans in the sink, Thranduil throws you out of the kitchen again.

You hop into the bathroom, spend a few minutes staring at yourself in the mirror and try to think about the outcome of this evening.

A few hours ago you had been ready to go out with someone else but right now, in the dim light that is too bright to conceal how flushed your cheeks are and too dark to be the glimmering sparkle in your eyes, there is not one thought wasted on any other guy.

It's a complicated feeling, being confronted with the crush you'd harbored on Thranduil for a while now and while it wasn't always easy to keep it at bay, it had been nowhere near as hard to keep your focus on the big fat label of 'friendship' that was the only thing ever to be between you.

Yes, you know that that label should hamper the want.. the need to kiss the ever-living daylight out of Thranduil when he stared at you across those flickering candles but who wouldn't want to do that to an attractive man showering you with attention he had given you today?

Any normal-thinking person would.

At least that is what you tell yourself, that these feelings are normal because he is attractive and not just because you are attracted to him.

Back in the living room, you fall onto the sofa, legs stretched and feet propped onto the small table in front of the couch, and fight the urge to cuddle into the pillows more than necessary. Any deeper and you would for sure fall asleep and with how your evening is going, that that would be a shame was an understatement.

"Thranduil?" you call out when another minute passes and the noises of washing up had quietened down and Thranduil still wasn't out of the kitchen again.

"One moment," his deep voice responds with a subtle grunt, "You can begin your search for a bar and please don't let it be the rooftop bar you mentioned earlier."

On another day you would have chosen a bar or even a club to go to, especially after your stomach did that traitorous summersault at the sound of his voice again.

Tonight, with your cozy little apartment smelling like fresh flowers and curry and your mind clinging onto a possessive and dangerous thought of 'What if..'´ you suddenly can't think of anything worse than going out with Thranduil.

Going out would mean that Thranduil's attention wouldn't be on you alone anymore.

"Thranduil?" you call out again, "Let's stay in and watch a movie."

"What?" He pops his head out of the kitchen and you giggle at the sight of soap bubbles on his nose as he wipes his hand over his surprised face. He rolls his eyes, lifting one arm, - oh god his sleeves are rolled up, exposing far too much skin and veiny arms for you to think clear- and wipes the soap away. "I thought you wanted to go out."

"No," you draw the word out, still hung up on the smooth-looking skin, "We talked about going out or watching a movie," shuffling your shoulders into the pillows you smile at him "and I think we should watch a movie. It has been a while since we did that."

Thranduils face softens and he cocks his head, "It has," he agrees, the tenderness in his eyes reaching his voice.

With Thranduil running his restaurant and your work demanding more of you there hadn't been a lot of time you had sat down and watched something together recently.

You still had your mornings full of nursing coffee and yoga and the evenings where you weren't on a date or Thranduil away on business you had gone out together.

The summer with all its warm and sunny days and bars filled with cool drinks and long evenings fading into soft blue nights had been fun- that didn't mean you didn't miss cuddling into a blanket on the couch and watching a movie with Thranduil where you spend the entire time making small comments only to annoy him.

"How about you sort out what movie you want to see and I'll fetch us a snack?" he proposes and you let out a hum. Thranduil starts to turn away, then halters, "And if you could find anything other than 'Pride and Prejudice' I would be very grateful."

You did, in fact, not search further for the movie that you had started earlier.

Something that Thranduil comments with a loud "God, please do not do this to me," when he reenters the living room.

Stubbornly, you shake your head, your finger dancing over the buttons on the remote control. "You won't know if you like it or not if you never stay to watch it through! What if this is your movie? You say you don't have a favorite movie, Thranduil- this could be it!" Your arms flare in the air, pointing the remote to the screen while you try your best to sound as motivational as you can under the skeptical raise of his eyebrow - though the corner of his lips twitch, betraying his amusement however hard he wants to look self-assured in his completely (unreasonable) hate for the movie you consider one of the best of all time.

It's only when he saunters closer that you see what he holds in his hands and it momentarily lets you forget the never-ending argument.

"Ice cream!"

He laughs deep and rough, always a bit darker and richer when he has drunk wine, his voice and tone taking on the velvety edge that clouds your mind just as much as the alcohol.

"That was much more enthusiastic than the reaction to the soufflé I made you a while back. Should I take offense? Is this your revenge for my dislike of this Darcy that you so obsess about?"

Sticking out your tongue you grab one of the two buckets he holds out to you, as Thranduil takes his place on the couch; always on the longer side where he could stretch out his long legs. "Do not disrespect the man of my dreams or I will buy the mac-just-add-milk-cheese," you open the lid of the carton box, reaching over to the table to place it there.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Mhm, I wonder if they still have the ones that only need water?"

"Please just press play you vicious woman," Thranduil pokes his finger into your side, admitting defeat with a desperate sigh and opens his own box of ice cream. When he sees you staring at it, he rolls his eyes. "What now? Can't a man enjoy something sweet once in a while?"

"A man yes," you snort "But you-" you poke him as well, "you're always on me when I buy ice cream and now you eat.. what is that..?"

Leaning into his space you ignore how Thranduil swats at you gently like he wants to get rid of a fly "It's chocolate, no way! My, my, should I call your health insurance and warn them that we will need a checkup? Maybe a brain-"

"Goodness gracious!" Thranduil groans, a sound that reverberates through you as you are still leaning into him, one hand propped next to his thigh, "Will you shut up or do I have to do that for you?"

That does shut you up instantly.

Not a sound leaves your mouth - left wide open as if he had simply pressed paused on your whole body - and you slowly turn your head away from him and back to the screen.

Now, while he did shock you enough with his words to let the teasing about the ice cream slide back down your very much dry throat, you can't help it to at least attempt to have the last word.

To calm your racing heart if not to for the sudden lack of thoughts, "Only if you swear to watch the whole movie without talking shit about Mister Darcy"

"Half of it and a little bit of shit-talking?"

"All of it and none of that!"

"Just let me make my comments and I will buy you your ice cream next time."

You squint your eyes, challenging him to stay with the offer and consider if it's worth it.

You could easily buy your own snacks, you did it every day you went grocery shopping anyway but there was a satisfying pleasure in knowing that the great Thranduil, hater of all sweets, would not only pick out ice cream for you, but pay for it as well.

Maybe he would even throw in something else as well, if you agreed to him and let him make his jokes.

In the end, you were simply grateful that he was here, sitting on the couch to watch a movie he knows means a lot to you, despite his dislike for it, and maybe that was enough..

"Deal!"

Finally, you eagerly press play, allowing the soft piano music to fill the room a second time this day.

While you can't help but smile, muttering the words into the spoons full of ice cream, Thranduil is less mean than you thought he would be. In the beginning, you could see him rolling his eyes whenever Mr. Darcy came on screen - something you commented with a sigh and a giggle - but like you always predicted, he soon relaxed into the cushions.

His face softens, just like his comments, mouth corners turning up as he watches the discussion between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth in the reading room.

In one particularly dramatic scene, you turn to Thranduil with wide eyes. "See? See? Mister Darcy is just misunderstood. He's so in love with Elizabeth, but he doesn't know how to express it properly."

Thranduil rolls his eyes playfully. "Oh, please. He just needs to learn how to be less insufferable."

You lean closer to him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, you could learn a thing or two from Darcy, Thranduil."

He scoffs. "Me? Like what?"

Despite the tone he lifts one arm so that you can really lean into his side and you follow the invitation. Drawing your legs up, ignoring that the hem of your dress rides up your thigh, you scoot into Thranduil's space and rest your back against the length of his chest. His arm remains on the headrest of the couch.

You grin. "How to sweep a girl off her feet. Be a little less aloof and a little more... passionate–" your voice wanders into a wistful sigh, words getting lost as you watch with bated breath as Mister Darcy helps Elizabeth into the carriage.

There is a deep rumble behind you, a hot exhale of breath hitting the back of your head and while it seems like Thranduil wants to say something, he remains silent.

When you slightly turn your head, you see him watching the screen with a look in his eyes that you can't pin point.

"Why exactly does he flex his hand like that?" Thranduil quizzes with what sounds like genuine interest and you nearly bounce off the couch in excitement.

"Okay so there are multiple ways that this could be interpreted, some think it represents his armor cracking because he has been so buttoned-up, closed-off all the time and now his muscles betray the character he is putting on," you start, the words tumbling out of your mouth fast and rushed now that Thranduil shows his interest "It's like he is unraveling slowly but surely."

"It's also the first time they touch," you add.

Thranduil cocks his head, "It is?"

The grin on your face grows wider and you nod enthusiastically. "Yes! It's the first time they touch and it's pure skin to skin contact which was totally scandalous in their time, hence the gloves and long sleeves. Imagine going on through your life with these walls built around you as a way to protect your heart and then there is this infuriating woman."

"I can't imagine," Thranduil throws in yet it's so quietly that you nearly miss it.

Nearly.

Your tongue trips over a few words as you continue speaking, caught on what Thranduil had said under his breath as if it had been meant for only him, "-well and she.. she is rebellious. She does not follow the etiquette of wearing gloves, she speaks her mind freely and she contradicts everything that you have been taught," you count on your fingers "And she must have been the first woman in a long time that has touched him like that, even if it's as simple as using his help getting into the carriage"

"Mhm," Thranduil raises the arm that isn't behind you and taps his lips. "And you find that moment important for their building romance?"

"Without a doubt in my mind."

"Alright."

And with that, the topic is dropped and you both return to watch the movie.

That is until Thranduil's arm drops lower.

At first, you think it could have been unintentional, physics and gravity and all that stuff being the reason that his arm fell or slipped from the headrest on your shoulders.

It happens, maybe it had been tiresome to leave it up there, stretched away at such an angle. That is what you tell yourself in the few seconds where his arm simply.. stays still.. but then his arm bends at the elbow and the movement is so slow, so careful that your brain has enough time to forget the movie and focus on how delicately wary his hand comes into contact with the naked skin of your arm.

At first, it's just his fingertips.

Trembling ever so slightly they ghost over your biceps, giving the impression that he is still unsure on how to proceed and you wait, trying your hardest not to flex your arm and maybe scare him away and it's the hardest thing - this kind of touch was rare.

The waiting and effort are worth every second of agonizing stillness because following the tips is the hot palm of his hand, curving around your upper arm and holding you.

Your senses are aflame like the candles, lavender clouding your mind, cold ice cream melting on your tongue as the rough skin of his fingertips trails over your arm in the smallest circles.

Reflecting on the previous conversation there is one sentiment burning its way through your body, bringing with it all the moments of today, his hands on your leg in the kitchen, the storm of emotions crackling through his eyes like thunder, splitting his facade like lightening, the way he had reacted on spoonfeeding you the curry, the tension.

This has to mean something.

This has to be something.

You make up your mind to confront him about it even before he opens his mouth for the next commentary again.

"Darcy sure has a fantastic way to show his love," his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

"Nothing screams more 'I love you' than separating the sister of the woman you love from your best friend because you think the family is far too poor and lacks social etiquette," he scoffs, seemingly being his normal self and you would have believed him if his eyes didn't dart towards you, hinting at a touch of nervousness in those cerulean seas which lack the usual confidence.

"Maybe he is unsure how to tell her that he loves her," you say, holding his gaze.

"Well, there are other ways than this," Thranduil says, pointing toward the screen where Darcy is now standing painfully awkward in Charlotte's home that Elizabeth visits.

While you know that he is trying to follow Elizabeths advice of simple conversation, Thranduil doesnt seem to make that connection.

"Why aren't you out and about flirting with women?" It is a slip of the tongue, led on by the teasing you are so used to yet it comes out far too soft, far too wobbly. Quickly you add to the question with what is half cough, half laugh: "Huh, I mean if you are so sure that Darcy is doing something wrong, you should be picking up women, right?"

Thranduil raises an eyebrow in confusion. He opens his mouth, slightly tilting his head. "What? Why should I do that?"

Now you wonder if he was more stupid than you thought or if you heavily missed him having a girlfriend. Or not a girlfriend, or a partner. Were you that ignorant? Did you miss anything he told you about his sexuality?

"I–" you stutter "I didn't want to pry. I´m sorry. I.. I'm just wondering why you never go out on dates"

"Oh," there is a solemn look on his face "Ah, I had hoped this wouldn't come up for a while longer," He pauses, glancing at the TV and a feeble smile has the corner of his mouth twitching.

You don't have to follow his gaze to know that Mister Darcy has just followed Elizabeth into the rain; the only scene Thranduil has ever watched with you.

Maybe you had been ignorant before but the resigned tone in his voice is loud and clear. "We don't have to talk about it!" you rush in, "Really. No need to converse. Let's just watch the movie alright?" Without thinking about it, your hand moves to his chest, a reflex to gently pat him that dies when you feel the hard thumping of his heart through his shirt.

"I could never date someone, let alone think about a woman the way I think about you."

There it was again, the casualness that had tainted the 'Darling' from earlier. You would have laughed, hell, it is already bubbling up your throat when the heaviness of his confession crashes down on you and all that leaves you is a choked sound and a sudden lack of air has you gasping.

The combination of both hurts but not enough to cover the flutter in your stomach.

"What?" you ask not because you didn't understand him, you had heard every word, every syllable clear and distinct, but because you can't believe that you had heard it.

Your hand still rests atop his chest, feeling the heartbeat- hard and fast.

The same way he suddenly pressed his mouth on yours.

It happens quickly, leaving no time for you to react how you want to react and the only thing you can do is gasp.

The kiss ends as swiftly as it has started at the sound yet Thranduil doesnt withdraw completely. His mouth hovers over yours, his breath ghosting over your dry lips. There was a question in it, the same that is in his eyes when you gather the courage to look up.

Thranduil wasn't this hesitant, he was efficient, confident and so fucking sure of himself that his lack of those qualities right now spoke just as much as the kiss itself.

In the background, you hear rain but all you feel is your mind clearing up like the sky after the downpour.

Without further hesitation, you nod and Thranduil lunges forward again, this time with enough force that you lose your balance - or maybe it was the feel of his lips on yours that prevented you from catching yourself as you fall backward and crash into the pillows.

As far as first kisses go, most of the ones you had with guys were significantly worse. They were usually awkward, sometimes even uncomfortable because you weren't yet attuned to each other, but you weren't kissing a strange guy in a bar here.

You were kissing Thranduil.

You had been friends for years, you had seen each other in the most embarrassing situations, he had probably been confronted with your unclothed body more often than others, and if there was one thing he had noticed, it was what disappointed you about your dates.

And while he kissed you silly and stupid you were happy about exactly this perceptiveness.

His hair falls around you like a curtain, his chest presses against yours and you get so used to the weight of his body on yours like it has never been different.

And you hope it will never be any different.

"Shit," Thranduil groans against your lips, and you open your eyes, smiling up at him in a daze.

"What?"

"Now-" he kisses you again "Now that we got this out of the way.." Another kiss, a soft bite on your lips and you are so fucking glad to know that no woman has experienced this from him in a while. You are getting addicted to his kisses fast "..can you please stop dating these assholes and let me take you out for a real dinner?"

You nod hastily and lift your head to catch his mouth again. You only let him go for another second, when the perfect place pops into your mind - the last thought for the rest of the evening probably.

"Let's go to 'Oakenshields'"

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #the hobbit fanfiction #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x you #lotr x reader

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disasterofastory · 1 year ago

Text

Like a tree (Thranduil x Reader)

Like a tree Thranduil x Reader Warnings: drunk and horny Reader

Summary: You drank too much and your husband takes care of you.

You have to fight with every fiber of your body to open your eyes, and when you do, the world is spinning, and you feel dizzy. You need a few seconds to adjust your sight to the dim lights. The first thing you notice is the soft line of Thranduil's jaw and, a moment later, his hair as it falls all over his broad shoulders. Your fingers curl around the collar of his robe, not that you are afraid he would drop you. His strong arms are secure and steady under your back and knee. Warmth radiates from his body, bundling you into his embrace. "Where are we going?" You hum against his chest. Your words are muffled and disoriented. "You, my dear, are going to sleep." "What?" You scoff, wanting to push yourself away from him, but he doesn't even budge. "I'm fine," you tell him. "Oh, I know you are fine," Thranduil laughs. The deep rumble of his chest goes straight to your chest. The deep sound warms your heart. "But I think you drank a bit too much," he continues. "It seems like I have to talk with the guards again to not challenge you anytime soon." "Did I win?" You ask him. "Yes." "Good."

"Hey," you pout, reaching out for your husband when he steps back from you after putting you down on the bed. Your dress is long forgotten on the ground while your nightgown covers your body. The fabric is soft and light, showing off your cleavage and thighs. "Where are you going?" "I'm just going to change my clothes," he laughs at the expression on your face. "I won't go anywhere, I promise." "Oh," you breathe out, a mischievous grin pulls up the corners of your lips. "I can help with that." "I'm sure you could," Thranduil laughs again. He loves the way you look at him even though your eyes are half-closed. Your gaze is heated and full of love as you watch him change his clothes. "I think you shouldn't even bother with clothes," you break the silence again. "And why is that, my wife?" He asks, tugging on the blankets so he can tuck you in. "It's still cold." "Uhm," you groan, turning on your side so you can face him when he lies down next to you. "I can warm you up." Your bare leg slips up on his thighs, brushing his already half-hard cock in the process. Thranduil's muscles tense as he keeps his groan deep in his chest. His large hand lands on your soft skin, stopping your grinding on his erection. "I think we should postpone it, love," he says in a low voice. Your hand is warm on him as your fingers draw small circles on his wide chest. His skin is soft and smooth under your touch. "Why would we do such a thing?" You ask, frowning. "Because I'm drunk? It doesn't matter. I would climb on you like a tree if I were sober too." His laugh comes from deep inside his chest and fills the room with a pleasant rumble. God, you really love his voice. "I love your laugh," you state, creeping closer. "But I love your moans better." "Sleep, Y/N," Thranduil says. His amusement is still clear in his voice. His long fingers curl around your wrist to stop you from slipping inside his pants. "But I'm not that drunk," you argue. "I know," he says, pulling you against his side to be closer to his body. "But I don't want you to fall asleep in the middle." You gasp. "I wouldn't." Thranduil doesn't answer for long minutes as a knowing smirk spreads across his face. When his eyes move up from his hand still on your thigh to your face, he can't help but chuckle again. Your lips are slightly open as you sleep. "Of course not, my love," he hums softly, adjusting you until your head is on his chest and his arms are around you. "We will talk about you climbing me like a tree tomorrow," he adds quietly. His warm breath ghost over your ear, and you hum in agreement.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagine

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 1 year ago

Note

Could I please request Thranduil with a breeding kink with the lavender field prompt? 🔥🔥 thank you so much!! Your writings lift my spirits!

Here you go!

"Lavender Haze"

Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader (elf/second person POV) | Location: Greenwood the great

Themes: Smut | Soft

Word count: 1.6k words

Summary : A game of hide of seek take place in a lavender field. What price will the loser have to pay?

Rating: 🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 🔞 | You are responsible for the media you consume

Rules and tag form here | Prompts for requests here

A lavender haze.

That was all you could see in the periphery of your vision—an endless haze of the richest lavender swaying with the wind. The blooms rustled, murmuring with a hushed voice of their own every time the wind rose. It was sheer happenstance when you came across this field of wild lavender. Thrilled with this new find, you made haste to ride back to Amon Lanc and tell its prince. Thranduil listened with rapt attention and insisted that you take him there. No one knew of such a field, and he wanted to see it with his own eyes.

The prince came. And he saw. And believed. And a merry chase then ensued. No one besides the two of you knew of this little slice of paradise, and Thranduil wanted to make the most of it. Others would learn of the field's existence soon enough, and the opportunities to be alone within it would grow sparse.

You ran and ducked behind tall bushes. Hid behind the thick trunks of gnarled trees with branches so low they kissed the soft grass that grew beneath them. And Thranduil chased you still, calling out for you and searching for you, the heady rush of the chase working its magic on him.

"Where are you, meleth?"

You clapped your hands over your mouth and kept still. Thranduil was close to the oak tree you were hiding behind. You could not hear his footsteps; the prince moved like a wraith, not making a single sound. You press against the bark of the tree, wondering if he heard you or if he knew where you were hiding.

"Meleth?"

It was as if he were further away now, but you keep yourself concealed anyway. When it sounded as if he had moved quite a distance, you peered around the tree, pleased to find him no longer there. You take off again, giggling and smug, confident you have thrown him off your trail.

"There you are!" Thranduil ran in from behind and threw his arms around you. He cackled when you squealed and squirmed and tried to free yourself from his hold. His moving away from where you were had just been a sly trick. He was there the entire time, hidden, waiting for you to come out into the open.

"Th-thranduil!" Giddy laughter ripped through you when you tried and tried, and he simply continued to carry you deeper into the field. "Let g-go!"

"No!" Thranduil's laughter mirrored yours. He listened to you grumble and plot your escape, and laughed again, louder this time. "Yield, meleth. Escape is futile. Surely you know this by now."

"Never!" That never lasted no more than a few moments, when you realized you would not be able to extricate yourself from his vise-like grip no matter how hard you tried. You give up and go limp against him.

Thranduil sets you down amidst fragrant purple blooms. "Now, tell me. What was our wager again?"

"If I win, you are to be my slave for the turn of a moon," you answer quickly, more than a little disappointed that losing the wager meant not having Thranduil wait on you hand and foot. Literally.

Thranduil smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "And if I win?"

"I am to let you have your way with me. In whatever way you desire."

"A prospect that does not disappoint you, yes?"

You huff and cross your arms. How easy it was for him to read you! "It does not."

Thranduil smiled wolfishly and sat down, extending his hand to you. "Come, meleth. It is time to pay the piper, so to speak."

You narrowed your eyes and made yourself comfortable next to him, lying down on the grass as you did so. The sky was beautiful, all puffy white clouds against a field of the palest, clearest blue. You rest your head over your folded arms and watch while they stay low and move slowly. Thranduil is content to watch you. He lays down beside you, an enchanting smile slowly working its way across his face when you turn to face him. His eyes light up when you smile in return.

"I will pay," you reply with a grin.

Thranduil beamed and leaned forward, the sweetness of his kiss pouring into your throat when his mouth opened over yours. Deft, experienced hands worked on the clasps and lacing on your robes. Your gown loosened beneath his touch. The prince helps you out of your clothes, barely taking a moment to marvel at the sight of you exposed. Thranduil then sat up, his clothes rustling while he rid himself of his tunic and undershirts, belt and sash and boots. They all joined the growing pile by the side. He slipped out of his breeches, sighing in relief when his throbbing cock sprang free. He did not give you time to even think or breathe. He simply captured your lips with his.

Your nerves were aflame; every inch of you was heated and sensitive to his touch. And you were bold, reaching out to ghost a finger over the crown of his member. Thranduil moaned lustily and drew away, content again to watch, this time while you took him into your hands. He moved his hips, thrusting in time with your strokes. The warmth and frenzy of your pace were unceasing. It nearly undid him and almost made him cum all over your hand.

"Not like this." Thranduil loosened your grip and pushed you onto your back. "I would much rather finish inside you."

He was so warm when he lowered himself onto you—slowly and carefully—and tried not to lose control of himself and hurt you. He did not enter you immediately. Thranduil kept still while you touched his face and his hair, and ran your hands over his arms and chest and back. The prince was perfect, like an exquisite marble sculpture come to life.

"Mine," you declare without even hesitating. "All mine."

Joy welled within Thranduil's heart. "As you are mine," he exclaimed with pride before dipping his head.

He kissed with tenderness, then hunger, then fury, when your mouth parted for the warmth of his sinful tongue. Thranduil knitted his tapered fingers around yours, moaning into your mouth when your free hand slid around his waist and nails dug into his flesh.

"Naughty girl," he breathed wistfully. "Now open those beautiful legs for me."

He groaned under his breath when your legs slid open and hooked around his hips. Thranduil pushed in, inch by agonizing inch, sinking his shaft into your slit. The prince was built bigger than most, and you felt it in the pressure around your core. He kept still, his chest heaving and his heart racing wildly, while you adjusted to his size. Arousal pooled in your belly when even the slightest movement sent shock waves shooting up your spine like lightning. You no longer wanted him to stay still. You wanted him to move.

"I am ready."

Thranduil's pace was merciless. He rutted into you like a wild beast, growing drunk on your transported moans.

"Look at how well you take me," he cries against your throat. "It is as if you have been made for me."

All you could do was hold onto him while he bucked his hips against the insides of your thighs. "Perhaps it is because we were made for each other."

"Yes," Thranduil agreed. "Meant for each other. You are mine, just as I am yours. We belong together."

His grip on your hand tightened. He plunged deeper and harder. It made you see stars. "More," you plead shamelessly. "More. Please."

Thranduil grunted softly. "Look at you. Listen to how desperate you sound. Should I deny you?"

"No!" you keen. "Please do not do that."

"Pathetic." Thranduil hissed hoarsely, his hips now undulating every time he thrust. "But I suppose I will concede to your plea. I am going to finish inside you, so you know who you belong to."

"Please." The knowledge of him filling you with his seed unraveled you. "Do it. Please."

He nearly fell apart when he heard. Thranduil let go of your hand and gripped your chin, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. He wanted to see how your words could undo him. "Are you ready?"

You did see. You saw how his eyes had darkened and how raw, unbridled lust flashed in them. And you were so ready for him.

"Yes," you sob in relief. "So ready."

Thranduil ran his tongue along the curve of your throat. It made you tremble beneath him and whimper against his shoulder. His thrusts grew erratic and relentless. It sent you spiraling and made the world grow dark in your eyes. Thranduil gasped sharply while your walls contracted and milked his cock. It shattered him and made his orgasm rip through him. He glanced at your belly, his thoughts running riot with visions of his spend filling your cunt. It heightened the bliss he was already drowning in. With one last, satisfying grunt, he came to a stop, his arms and body trembling from the exertion.

Nothing could be heard save for the wind rustling through flowers and leaves and the deeper sound of ragged breathing. Thranduil slowly moved onto his back, taking you with him. You sighed in contentment while he held you against his chest. When you moved, he stopped you.

"Keep me inside you a little longer," Thranduil insists. "Just a little longer, then you and I can go for a swim in that pond nearby."

#thranduil #Thranduil smut #Thranduil x reader #Thranduil imagine #greenwood the great #x reader #x reader insert #reader insert #reader requests #reader insert request #💫a world of whimsy writes

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tamurilofrivendell · 10 months ago

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Crush | Legolas x Reader

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Summary: Reader is a royal guard who Legolas becomes enamoured by.

Word count: 2,990

requested by anonymous (happy (late, I'm sorry) birthday, I hope this was okay for you)

tags: @coopsgirl @birbixo0912 @desert-fern @ancient-rime @silverose365 @lady-of-imladris @asianbutnotjapanese @deadlymistletoe @thewulf @whiteladyofithilien

It was a recent change, you becoming a royal guard. Once an opening had become available, of course, you lunged at it. You had wanted for a very long time to attain such a position and thankfully your ambition and your skills had not gone unnoticed. You got what you wanted and soon settled straight into the role. Some days your duties seemed endless but you felt like you were protecting your home, helping to defend the realm you so loved, and it made even the most exhausting of days worth it.

This particular day, you were following the king himself around as he went from place to place tending to various different things. Usually Feren himself would have accompanied Thranduil, however he was away from the halls at a nearby settlement and you had been plucked from the rest to be the guard who went with the king this day and you did not think you could be more excited and more eager to not mess up.

It was a long afternoon.

You had gone to a meeting about various boring politics which you had zoned in and out of as you stood at the back of the room behind his chair. Then he'd trailed around various rooms checking on the armoury, the production of various things you didn't expect him to care much about such as cloth and flour, and also to the cellar to check on the wine stores. Now, you were walking away from the orchard, where the Orchardist had given a very unnecessarily in-depth talk about his apples and the large yield of the trees. He'd seemed exceptionally proud, which was nice, but he talked a lot longer than was necessary when it came to something like fruit.

"I think... he certainly knows an awful lot about apples." Thranduil mused as the two of you stepped onto the path. "And now I, too, certainly know an awful lot more than necessary about apples."

You stifled a laugh, not wishing to be rude but truthfully you had been bored stiff the entire time. Thranduil had not looked anything but attentive while you'd been fighting to keep your expression neutral, but he just had more practice than you did.

"It is good that our stores will not run low any time soon." You replied as diplomatically as you could, though the king caught the deeper feelings in your tone and he smirked a little in amusement.

"Indeed." It was, after all, a good thing that the trees produced such large quantities. Not just the apples, either. It meant their crop continued to thrive and they would not starve if he needed to close the gates for any reason. Not that he anticipated anything. "Anyway, I think I will be alright to return to my chambers alone, thank you. You may go."

"As you wish." You nodded, falling out of step with him and watching as he swept away and disappeared round the corner back into the part of the building that led to his private quarters. You stayed where you were for a moment, wondering what to do now, and then you turned around to head back to your own chamber. Perhaps a bath would be a nice idea after such a long day of trudging around and being on your feet.

As you turned, your eyes fell upon another figure a short distance away, sitting underneath a large tree in the courtyard with a bow between his fingers. Prince Legolas seemed to have already been looking at you when your gaze was drawn to him and you blinked, a bit taken aback by that fact. A beat passed and then you stepped towards his direction but his eyes immediately dropped to the bow in his hand as he went back to cleaning it, acting as if you no longer existed. Oh. He must not need anything after all then. You'd thought maybe he recognised your role when you'd been walking with his father but... no matter, you decided, turning away and heading away back down the path.

What you didn't see was the way Legolas' eyes flickered back up to watch your retreat. He had been sitting out here for about an hour now, taking his time while cleaning his bow and enjoying the mild weather. The bow had once belonged to his mother and he took more care of it than he did with his others. He had noticed his father coming through but he had not wanted to draw much attention to himself, the older elf had looked quite worn out. It wouldn't show to anyone else of course but to Legolas it was clear. He almost hadn't paid you any attention at first. When he had, he'd done a double take.

She's beautiful, was his immediate thought, something which brought a faint blush to his cheeks and so he was glad that nobody was paying too much attention to him. You'd made his father smile too, he noticed that, which only raised your merit in his eyes. After a few moments, when you were out of sight, he looked down again and went back to his bow. Interesting.

Three days later, you were one of the guards standing somewhere below the throne, keeping a careful watch while the king went through the rigmarole of people coming before him in audience to ask him for things or bring forward suggestions for his court and the realm.

Legolas walked into the room just as the last elf was escorted out. He strode right up the walkway towards the throne, intent on reaching his father to give him an appraisal of the forest beyond. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered towards where you stood... and he paused, coming to a stop altogether.

"Legolas." His father's deep voice shook him from his trance after a moment and he blinked up at Thranduil, who was looking down at him with a raised eyebrow.

Legolas shook his head, clearing his throat as he forced one foot in front of the other. "Ah... yes." He muttered, willing his cheeks not to flush, which luckily they did not. He launched into a rundown of what he'd seen in the forest and you could only stare at him for a long moment, confused at the prince's unusual behaviour, before you turned your eyes away, focusing them on the entrance to the throne room.

He was gone again quicker than you would have imagined but he stole another glance over his shoulder on his way out, eyes settling on you once again, just for the briefest of seconds, before he disappeared.

As you stared at the space in the doorway he had just occupied, you heard the sound of a snort being smothered from somewhere behind you. Turning, you looked up at Thranduil, who cleared his throat and looked stoic as ever but something about him almost looked amused. A glint in his eyes maybe?

"That is all, you may go." Was all he said as he rose, descended the steps and vanished just as his son had, leaving you staring after him as well. After standing frozen for a long moment, blinking in confusion, you left the room and decided to just put it from your mind. You must be imagining things.

The next two weeks passed in much the same manner. Legolas kept seeing you around everywhere he went as if you were haunting him. It was strange, he thought, that he'd gone so long without a glimpse and then suddenly you were everywhere. He thought he must just be an idiot. Overthinking it. You had not shown any interest and he felt like a bit of a weasel staring at you the way he had. Besides, he did not have time for anything, did he? He had things to do. He was a prince of the realm and he had duties...

...however, his mind did not let him rest. It tormented him with the image of you and eventually he decided he had to just say something, get it out of his system, and then he could go back to the way things were.

So, a day later, he approached you.

You had the day off and you were still trying to figure out how to spend it. You didn't feel like reading, you didn't feel like training, you didn't feel like doing much of anything but you were so bored that wandering around in the halls was driving you a bit mad.

"You look lost." Came a voice from behind and when you turned you saw Legolas standing there. You were startled, not answering immediately because it was the first time he had ever actually spoken to you.

"Mh?" Was your first very clever response, which made your face redden and, in turn, made him laugh. "I mean... uh..." You continued, scrambling to form actual words. He was smiling at you, kindly yes, but it was clear he was amused.

After another moment you laughed as well and the tension seemed to evaporate. "I am bored." You admitted.

"I see." Legolas chuckled, nodding as he turned his head to look around. The realm was quiet today, the halls barely occupied. "I was actually going to go into the forest." He turned his gaze back to your face, telling himself not to get lost in your eyes. "If... if you wanted to join me."

You couldn't be certain but it seemed as if the prince had stammered over his words a little. As much as you had not spent a lot of time around him, from what you'd seen that seemed unusual. A beat passed and then you smiled, nodding. "I'd like that."

His small, almost bashful, smile was enough to send your heart fluttering in your chest as he turned and gestured with his head for you to follow.

The forest was quiet too but in a different way than the halls. There it had felt a little suffocating in your boredom. Here it was peaceful. The change of scenery seemed to do your mind some good... though perhaps the company had something to do with it too.

Legolas was funny, you came to realise, once you got past his quiet, sometimes almost shy-seeming demeanour. He was charming... handsome, but that was not something you only found out today, no you'd thought that for quite some time already.

He took you on a mini tour of his favourite spots and then you both found yourself sitting up in a tree above a small pond, just talking. Getting to know Legolas made your heart stir in a way you would not have imagined. There was something about him, the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, the intent look on his face as he listened to your responses as if he truly did not want to miss a single word, that had your stomach in knots and your eyes glued to his face.

You met him again the next day, and then the next. It became routine that the two of you would spend time together during time off from your duties. You even started sparring together in the training grounds and Legolas seemed impressed by your skill with a blade. You went on walks through the forest. You talked about your lives. He became such a close friend that it was a wonder to you that you had ever not had him in your life in this capacity at all.

One day, while you were both sitting by the river in the afternoon sun, you noticed that he was a little quieter than normal.

"Is everything alright?" You asked him outright after a moment of studying the way the tiniest bit of tension had crept onto his brow where usually there was nothing.

Legolas blinked, turning his eyes from the flowing water to your face. "Hm?" He asked, as if he had not even heard you.

"I asked if everything was alright." You repeated.

Legolas shook his head in response, contradicting himself when his response was a simple: "Oh. Yes, everything is fine."

You did not buy it. A beat passed in which you just stared at him with a raised eyebrow and he shifted under your gaze before letting out a sigh.

"Alright, I confess. There is... something on my mind." He said.

"What?" You asked, watching him glance down at the stick in his hands that he had been fiddling with for a time now. "Legolas." You prompted after a moment.

Legolas swallowed, as if nervous, though you could not understand why he would need to be that way around you. Until he spoke, of course.

"I have been thinking a lot lately." He said, his voice soft, gaze on the river before he gathered the courage to turn his face to look at you once more. "About us."

Us. It was like a magic word that sent a shiver through you as you stared back at him. Did he mean... as in...? You swallowed now, feeling your own nerves rise. "Us?" You asked in a way that urged him to continue.

Legolas nodded slowly, blue eyes studying your face closely. "Yes. Us." He repeated, wishing he had planned out what he wished to say in his mind, but of course he had not planned this moment with you today at all. He had not intended for his thoughts to become visible. "You see, I..." He glanced down, breaking the stick in half before discarding the pieces and looking back up at your face, the one that had plagued his thoughts since that first day he saw you with his father.

In that moment, he decided to just say it. All of it. Just tell you because somehow keeping it inside unspoken was worse. "I like you very much. As... more than just a friend."

The world almost seemed as if it stopped for a moment. A second where everything just froze, your gaze locked with his. Was this actually happening or were you still asleep and this was all some trick of the mind? "What?" Not what you'd wanted to say but it's what came out of your mouth.

Legolas, unfortunately, took this as a bad sign and he looked away again, clearing his throat as a slight crease returned to the space between his eyebrows. "I... I just mean that..." He went quiet.

"No, no..." You said quickly, shaking your head. Damn it! "I meant... well, since when?" You had not dared to think that the prince's interest in you would be anything but platonic. He had never shown any interest in you beyond that!

However, as you thought about it now, yes he had. In the way he spent almost all of his free time with you. The way he listened so closely and intently to every single thing you said, hanging off your every word. The smiles, the lingering glances. The time he'd picked a flower from the forest floor and tucked it behind your ear without saying a thing but the look in his eyes that you'd ignored had said more than any words ever could.

You'd turned a blind eye.

"I like you very much too." You managed. "More than a friend."

Legolas blinked in a way that made him look completely stunned, quickly turning his face back so he could look at you. He was quiet for a moment and then a smile started to spread over his face. "You do?"

You nodded quickly, desperate now not to make him think any longer that you had absolutely no interest. "Of course, yes, I... I was just surprised to hear you say it, I didn't think-"

"I thought I was quite obvious." Legolas half mumbled, chuckling as his cheeks turned slightly pink.

"Oh, you were." You joked, laughing softly. "But... I think... I was not paying attention."

A small, comfortable silence passed between the pair of you as Legolas kept his eyes on your face and you forced yourself not to look away either. His smile widened.

"Then..." He continued after a moment. "If I asked if I could... court you-"

"Yes!" The word flew from your mouth before he could fully finish his sentence, causing colour to creep into your own cheeks as you watched him chuckle with amusement at your eagerness.

"In that case," the prince said, standing up and offering you his hand to help you to your feet. "Tomorrow, we begin properly." His minds eye filled with images of a picnic in a beautiful spot, of getting to know you better than he already did but this time in the capacity he most wished... maybe a kiss, but he would not get too ahead of himself.

"But I have duties." You said, taking his hand and allowing him to pull you up onto your feet, your heart racing at the contact as it always seemed to do, an extra thrill of excitement in it this time. "I stand the throne room tomorrow."

Legolas paused and then waved his hand, turning to lead you back down the trail towards the halls once more. "Leave that to me." He was determined to spend the whole day with you, to begin this courtship properly.

After some prodding as to why Legolas wished to wrangle a day off throne room duty for one of the guards, Thranduil found out about the change in the relationship between you and his son. However, he did not look the slightest bit surprised as he poured some more wine into his cup with a barely concealed smirk.

"I did think it would have taken you a little less time to ask her, my son... but better late than never." Was all he said while Legolas did his utmost not to shift in uncomfortable embarrassment under the amused glint in his father's eye.

#legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas fanfic #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #lotr fanfic #hobbit fanfic #ugh i'm a little out of practice with legolas and he didn't fully cooperate like I wanted him to #but if I fiddle anymore with this I'll delete it lmao

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queenstarlight2 · 5 months ago

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A terrible day in heaven

Yandere Elrond and Thranduil (816 words) summery: Elrond and Thranduil agree to share you credits to this post and creator part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

It was a calm and peaceful day in Rivendell, people were drinking tea in the garden, elves were making idle conversation, and the twins were causing trouble. It was a perfectly normal day in Rivendell but for Thranduil and Elrond this day was made for agreement, for an advantage, for a shared desire.

The air in Elrond's private chambers felt thick with tension as Thranduil and Elrond sat on plush couches, gazing into the fire that crackled in the fireplace. The soft light of the flames danced over their faces, casting fleeting shadows on the walls.

Thranduil turned to Elrond and spoke, "She belongs to us, does she not?"

Elrond met Thranduil's gaze, his eyes dark and intense. "Yes, she does. But we must be careful. She is breakable and fragile. We must not scare her away."

Thranduil nodded, his brow furrowed with concern. "I know. We cannot rush this, or we risk losing her forever."

But despite his words, the yearning in his eyes betrayed his impatience.

Elrond leaned back against the cushions and ran his hand through his hair, his voice tight with frustration. "But how long can we wait? I feel my desire growing stronger every moment we don't have her in our arms."

Thranduil's eyes darkened, the possessive fire within him burning brighter at Elrond's words. "I feel the same. The thought of her being with someone else, of her heart being claimed by another..."

Thranduil and Elrond both grew quiet as they thought about the object of their desire, the fire in the fireplace casting an almost romantic glow over the room.

Thranduil spoke quietly changing the subject "She is breathtaking. Her beauty is unlike anything I have ever seen in any human. And by elven standards, she would be considered very desirable."

Elrond nodded in agreement, his eyes distant as he recalled her face in his mind. "Yes, she is unlike any other human. There is a grace about her that I cannot describe. And her beauty... it is simply captivating. I find myself drawn to her in a way that I never have been before."

Elrond nodded in agreement, his own need for the girl growing stronger by the day. "Yes, she is. We cannot allow anyone else to have her. We have to make sure she knows that she is meant to be with us."

Elrond's hand ran through his hair again, a nervous habit he had developed in the days since they had first seen the girl. "But how do we convince her? She's young and naïve. What if she doesn’t understand our desires?"

Thranduil nodded agreeing he soon spoke "That is a valid concern. We don't want her to feel manipulated. But we also can't just go up to her and confess our feelings."

Elrond nodded and responded "No, that would likely scare her off. We need to take things slowly. Ease her into the idea of being with both of us."

Thranduil and Elrond sat in silence for a moment, both lost in their thoughts before Thranduil spoke up. "We must figure out how this is going to work."

Elrond nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, we need to discuss the terms of our agreement. How we will share her, and what our expectations are."

Thranduil stood up and began pacing the room, his mind racing as he thought about how to approach the situation. Thranduil spoke, "We should make sure she understands that we both care for her and that we will both be an important part of her life.”

Elrond responds to him "Yes, I agree. We should also make sure that she knows that neither of us will try to dominate her or make her choose between us. We both have a claim on her, and she will have a claim on us as well."

Thranduil stopped and faced Elrond, his expression intense. "We must be careful to avoid jealousy between us. We should always be open and communicate clearly with each other about our feelings."

Elrond nodded again, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Yes, I agree. But it won't be easy. We are both already possessive of her. The thought of her being with you, when I want her, is already difficult to bear."

Both men were silent for a moment, the weight of their situation heavy in the air. Thranduil finally spoke up, his voice more solemn than before "I think we have covered everything for now. We have agreed to share her and to be careful not to let our jealousy and possessiveness get the best of us. Is there anything else we should discuss?"

Elrond shook his head, his expression thoughtful. "No, I don't think so. We just need to make sure we keep our word and treat her with the love and care she deserves."

With a nod of agreement, the two men rose from their seats and walked to the door.

Thranduil looked at Elrond his voice quiet "Then I think we are done for now. We will talk again soon?" Elrond nodded "Yes, soon."

They left the room, each lost in their thoughts as they both quietly contemplated their plan to share the girl they had both fallen for.

( IM BACKKKKKKKKKKKKKK)

#lotr imagine #the hobbit headcanon #lotr elves #lord of the rings #thranduil #elrond peredhel #the hobbit #elrond x reader #lotr x reader #lotr fanfic #lotr #lotr headcanons #yandere lotr #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit headcanons

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fel-09 · 14 days ago

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Clothes for a seamstress

In Mirkwood, an air of anticipation filled the silence before the harvest festival. Elves worked tirelessly to adorn the hall for the celebration, but all the royal attire, exquisite and majestic, was the work of a modest seamstress. For years, she had crafted garments for the elves and for the king himself, finding purpose in her craft.

This time, she had poured special care into Thranduil’s attire. Each stitch held her devotion and precision; each element reflected her pride. His cloak, the color of the midnight sky, was embroidered with golden threads that shimmered like starlight, and intricate symbols of his lineage adorned the cuffs. The garment was beautiful, embodying the wisdom and strength of the king of Mirkwood.

On the day of the celebration, all the garments for the elves were ready. She had meticulously arranged the final touches, assisting each of them in donning their finery, adding pearls and brooches with her delicate touch. Despite her modest role, her work was deeply appreciated—each elf expressed gratitude with warm smiles, though many did not even know her name.

The festivities had begun, and joyous music filled the hall, but the seamstress lingered in her workshop. She hadn’t found time to tend to herself, so she wore a simple, modest dress. Though it was a deep shade of blue, it drew little attention, and the narrow belt only accentuated her slight frame.

Eventually, she made her way to the celebration, hoping to remain inconspicuous. The hall gleamed with torchlight and dazzling outfits. She stood against the wall, quietly observing as Thranduil, dressed in her magnificent creation, greeted the guests. Her heart swelled with satisfaction, though he barely glanced her way. She resolved to stay in the shadows, but just then, an advisor approached and conveyed a simple, solemn request:

"The king wants you to come to his room."

A hint of mystery in his tone left her slightly apprehensive. She didn’t know the reason behind the king’s summons, yet she left the hall and followed him, abandoning her hope of remaining unnoticed. Entering his quarters, she found Thranduil standing by the window, deep in thought. His posture was proud, and when he turned to face her, his expression held a calm but intense authority.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice your contribution to this festival?” he began, his gaze meeting hers. “You labor for everyone, yet you come to the celebration in such humble attire, as if you are of no importance.”

She wanted to respond, but the king stepped closer. “You are a master of your craft and deserve honors no less than any guest here,” he said gently, his tone leaving no room for protest. With that, Thranduil produced a gown of purest white from a chest. Unlike her plain dress, it was beautifully embroidered with silver threads, shimmering in the moonlight like milky rivers beneath the stars. “Allow me,” he murmured, helping her into it.

Every movement of his was filled with respect, and she felt her heart quicken as he He began to take off her clothes slowly, her heart skipped another unexpected beat when she was practically naked in front of him, Thranduil tenderly dressed her in her clothes, his fingers expertly tying the knots in her dress , while his eyes looked at her open neck and shoulders with special trepidation.

He didn't dare to speak first, many years had passed since they stopped talking, because... he was still hurt that he pushed you away because of his grief. But now... His fingers gently ran down your back, making you shudder.

"In those moments several centuries ago... I though ..." Stopping, Thranduil did not dare to continue what he wanted to say, but his arms wrapped around your waist, pressing your back to his chest, burying his nose in your neck.

"I miss you," he whispered, leaving a timid kiss on your shoulder.It was necessary for him...and for you as well, but he wanted to make amends with you.

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Humorous dialogue behind the scenes----->

Link to the post

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#x reader #fem reader #mirkwood #the hobbit #thranduil #thranduil x reader #the lord of the rings #king thranduil #thranduil oropherion x reader #thranduil of mirkwood #thranduil oropherion #thranduil fanfiction

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shirefantasies · 10 months ago

Note

I'm doing pretty good! Ty for asking

I wanted to request Lindir (and anyone else you might want to do) with a reader that loves playing with/braiding his hair? A very simple request but I find it adorable

That does sound quite sweet 😌 I decided to do this with all the major elves because we love elf fluff in this house 💖

Elves + Braiding

Lindir

✧ He is surprised the first time you idly take strands of his long brown hair in your hands, giving a look of polite surprise as he awaits your next action.

✧ Then you pull back the sides of his hair, braiding them at the back of his head, and he would be lying if he said it felt anything but satisfying, both having his face freed from the strands and also your hands delicately working their magic upon his hair.

✧ Too shy to request it, Lindir simply sits by your side, hoping the whim takes you again. Perhaps he will practice a song, sitting at his harp or holding a smaller instrument and feeling the small smile creep onto his lips when your fingers comb through his hair again.

✧ When he catches you in a moment of stress his subconscious works faster than his mind; without thinking he’s running hands through your hair, sliding the cool skin soothingly over your scalp.

✧ He turns red each time, but Lindir’s absolute favorite is when you rest your gorgeous head upon his shoulder. Gently he strokes your hair before ever-so-slightly resting his head atop yours.

Thranduil

✧ Fixes you with a look of surprise when you subconsciously reach for his long golden locks, but after removing a leaf from them your fingers twirl the ends of his tresses and he smiles fondly.

✧ Shakes his head a bit at you as you play with his hair, weaving new strands together. The loops you make may not be as intricate as others he has seen, but they are sturdy.

✧ From then on Thranduil dubs you talented, encouraging you to try more techniques, be they braiding or weaving. At first you can hardly help questioning if he sees your intent…

✧ …before you realize he is the only one you’re allowed to practice on. He is calling on you, plain and simple.

✧ You try to keep this out of your head, but the way the back of his hand traces your cheekbones as he sits you down makes that harder and harder…

Arwen

✧ You relax her in a way few else do, the ease you bring leading her to seek you out again and again.

✧ She knows how you enjoy what you do and she wants to pay it back, too. “Come, let us make our braids!” And just like that, your habit has become ours.

✧ She loves the feel of your hair, asking permission of course the first few times she touches it, but soon it seems even when you’re just sitting together someone is caressing the other’s hair.

✧ Sometimes when you’re feeling especially merry, you’ll playfully swat her with her own little ponytails. It always gets one of those rare laughs out of her.

✧ Cue Arwen wrapping her arms around your shoulders, forcing you to drop her hair as she grapples you (lovingly).

Elrond

✧ His eyes track yours one day, catching the way they follow the silky length of his hair. One day you venture sweeping some off his shoulder, growing bolder at Elrond’s soft smile.

✧ Your hands shake at first, but he nods and smiles reassuringly as you begin your weaving work. His hair is smooth, needing little to nothing, so instead you craft a kind of crown for him braided about his head.

✧ You tell him as much as you reveal your work, shocked at the way his expression has melted into something far, far softer.

✧ “Allow me to return the favor,” he says, hands sliding temptingly over your shoulders as he rotates you- and who are you to say no?

✧ “Though I do not deserve a crown,” you remind him. “You do not see things as I do, then.”

Legolas

✧ You’d never touch his hair without asking, unsure how Legolas would react until you shyly offer to braid it freshly back for him.

✧ He agrees with one of the smiles that has your heart leaping, encouraging you with a gentle nod as you take a seat behind him and begin your work. From the moments your hands brush his back, you can feel Legolas relaxing as you weave his golden hair.

✧ From then on he goes to you when he wants it fixed, teasingly asking if you might like to braid his hair again.

✧ It’s probably one of the most romantic things to happen to you the day Legolas sits you down, saying it’s his turn to take care of your hair.

✧ You two both end up in this sort of symbiosis of doing each other’s hair, barely ever touching your own.

Haldir

✧ Starts a bit the first time your hands comb his hair, but the butterflies he’s feeling may become evident in the way Haldir’s eyes fix you.

✧ You can feel him lean into your touch, the gentle motion of your fingers soothing him. Rare are the moments in which Haldir gives in to simple breath, release of all the burdens that he holds, and yet it is clear he craves it.

✧ "Why," he asks as you release his locks, letting them flow down his shoulders, "are you doing this?" "Do you really not know?" You simply ask back, caresses moving from the base of his neck to the sides of his face as you turn him your way.

✧ Your habit leads to the first of many kisses shared with Haldir, often stolen beneath the swaying branches of some faraway tree.

✧ Playing with your hair is not his habit, but running his hands wildly through it as your lips embrace is.

Galadriel

✧Amusement dances in her blue eyes as you reach up and comb her golden waves through your hands.

✧ “I’m sorry,” you sheepishly apologize, “may I?” “Of course,” she answers simply and gives a little nod as you step closer again.

✧ Galadriel turns to fix her enchanting gaze upon you as you work, smile too knowing not to bring warmth to your face and a shake to your fingers.

✧ Since that day, she combs her fingers through your hair as she passes by you, her fingers sometimes trailing down to the side of your cheek.

✧ You can feel her eyes upon you as far as her watch can reach, simultaneously bringing safe warmth shining through your chest and a shiver down your spine.

#lotr #the hobbit #lotr imagines #the hobbit imagines #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #lindir #elrond #arwen #thranduil #legolas #haldir #galadriel #ask #anon #hope you enjoy some elf fluff 🥰

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rivendell-poet · 3 months ago

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*･༓˚✧❝𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐑)❞‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « scenarios »

○ Aragorn ○ Legolas ○ Frodo ○ Sam ○ Merry ○ Pippin ○ Boromir ○ Faramir ○ Éowyn ○ Éomer ○ Bard ○ Thranduil ○ Tauriel ○ Lindir ○ Haldir ○ Elladan ○ Elrohir ○

GN!Reader | Wordcount : 4k (each individual around 230~ words) | Read on Ao3

TWS : Faramir worries if the drunken kiss was consensual (it was)

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𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐧

✧ Although you and the hobbits have been travelling together for a week, the two of you are yet to spend actual time together (the marching order has been established with you at the back and Aragorn at the front to keep the hobbits safe).

✧ When you get to Weathertop, you both breathe a sigh of relief that you’re somewhere that’s hopefully safe to stay - at least for a little while.

✧ When Aragorn asks if you’ll scout ahead with him you’re surprised but agree, after all you do need to get to know the person you’re travelling with.

✧ The two of you bond surprisingly quickly - talking of Dúnedain customs and easily working well together - although you're curious about some of his elven techniques.

✧ He’s enthusiastic about showing them to you, glad to be able to not only bond but bond over something practical. It’s even better when he sees you begin to pick the first technique up rather quickly.

✧ You two only stop when you look back to Weathertop and see a fire there before it’s suddenly put out.

✧ There’s no words exchanged as you start running back to the hobbits - trying to get to them before the Nazgul do.

✧ Aragorn barely notices anyone in the fight, focused on protecting Frodo, but once the threat is gone he immediately looks to you - checking if you’re ok.

✧ The fact he spares you the gesture makes you feel better, even in this situation.

✧ Later on, once the hobbits are settled and Frodo has been treated the best he can be, you thank him for checking on you and he smiles, offering to continue training later.

𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬

✧ You and Boromir are some of the first to arrive at the Council, aside from its hosts, and when Legolas arrives with the rest of the elves a small part of you relaxes. You might have a second ally here.

✧ As the ring is brought out, and the council devolves, you can’t help but wonder if Faramir sent you here purely so Gondor could show it had at least one reasonable citizen.

✧ On his part, Legolas is glad to have moments of reprieve from the seriousness when he looks over to you - doing a remarkable job of sinking into your seat while trying to be formal (disappearing more every time Boromir speaks).

✧ The both of you volunteer, you hopeful that your scouting in Mordor can help if once you get there.

✧ After the Council is dissolved for the day, you make a beeline to him and apologise for Boromir.

✧ There’s a smile on Legolas’s face as he reassures you it’s ok, and he doesn’t hold anything against you.

✧ “I’m glad you’re coming with us, the higher quality our allies the better chance we will have at success.”

✧ You thank him before looking over at Aragorn to say something, and he laughs before pushing you towards your future king (only mildly fearing the death glare you give him).

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐨

✧ For being on the floor with your bedroll (hobbit beds weren’t made with humans in mind), you have a surprisingly good sleep - only awoken by the smell of cooking.

✧ It’s earlier than you expected for hobbits, although that doesn’t stop you from getting up.

✧ As you become awake you can hear the sound of pots and pans clattering before picking up Frodo’s voice.

✧ “You might wake them up, uncle. They’ve probably not had the best sleep so we need to be quiet for now.”

✧ You don’t see Frodo’s face turn slightly red as he says that, especially when Bilbo gives him a knowing grin.

✧ Eventually, there’s a tentative knock on your room’s door as Frodo invites you to have breakfast.

✧ The array of food is one of the largest you’ve seen, and to thank him you pretend not to notice both hobbits anxiously watching you to make sure you like the food.

✧ Talk flows easily over breakfast, and you feel regret when you say you need to leave for the rest of the day.

✧ Frodo offers to walk you to the door, anxiously asking if you'll be back and you assure him you will.

𝐒𝐚𝐦

✧ Your second meeting is only two days after, while walking home from a friend’s house you spot him in the garden of Bag End.

✧ He sits up as you come into vision, and the two of you make eye contact so you call out to him - hoping he remembers you.

✧ For Sam, although he’s not ashamed of his job he is slightly embarrassed, and quickly stands up while brushing loose dirt off him.

✧ It’s a massive relief when you don’t seem to mind, and the smile on your face doesn’t fall as you see his messy clothes and gardening equipment.

✧ You greet him and the both of you talk for a while, realising that despite how much time you spent together you know so little about him.

✧ The topic of your favourite flowers manages to come up, which is what suddenly pulls him back to the fact he’s supposed to be working on Mr. Frodo’s garden.

✧ He quickly apologises to you about cutting the conversation short, but you tell him not to worry and that you hope to see him soon.

✧ Sam watches you leave with that same smile, keeping it on and waving until you’re completely out of his vision.

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲

✧ Midway through eating breakfast and looking forward to meeting Merry, you realise that he never told you where he lived - or a meeting point.

✧ For a second you wonder if this was all an elaborate joke, but when you remember the smile - and the spark - between you two you resolve to give him a chance.

✧ Finishing your breakfast, you decide to wander until you can meet someone (as to ask them where Merry Brandybuck is).

✧ When you finally encounter someone who knows, they give you a smile and ask your name - saying that he was asking around for a hobbit of your description and her residence.

✧ In the end, you have to race to meet him outside your own house just before he knocks.

✧ There’s clear relief on his face when you show up, and he apologises for the miscommunication before beginning to show you the Shire.

✧ You get quite far into your tour, but not to the whole town, so Merry eagerly asks if you’d meet with him tomorrow.

✧ (This time with a specific time and location in place).

𝐏𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧

✧ Pippin’s simply wandering around Rivendell, head tilted back to properly admire the architecture (and not so subtly trying to figure out where the food is), when he bumps into you.

✧ There’s no damage to either of you, but you can tell the poor hobbit is mortified as he apologises to you.

✧ After reassuring him for the sixth time that you’re okay, you ask if he’d like to be shown around Rivendell.

✧ He agrees eagerly, and so you begin your guided tour.

✧ Pippin’s a genuinely good tourist, listening and absorbing all your information while also constantly asking interesting and genuine questions - the fascination with the place clearing coming through.

✧ (Of all the things you’ve shown him he still thinks you’re the most wondrous one.)

✧ It’s only an hour into the tour, while you're walking past the hobbits, that they ask why Pippin wasn’t at breakfast.

✧ You then remember he hasn’t eaten yet, and it’s your turn to apologise while he reassures you.

✧ The pantries are quick to be raided by you, and although Pippin feels slightly embarrassed to have you get almost everything off the shelves for him you don’t mind.

✧ In the end, the two of you simply sit on the floor while you eat before his friends pull him away for the rest of the day.

𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐫

✧ A large part of you would be happy to never see Boromir again, you don’t think you’ll ever live that down, but a smaller part truly does want to. He has the caring and compassionate side of Faramir that makes you love your commander, and also another spark that makes you fascinated.

✧ You're informed beforehand you’re going to be meeting him again, in a semi-formal setting to discuss tactics, and this small part of you makes itself known with a light blush.

✧ You elect not to tell anyone precisely why, although when Faramir looks at you out of the corner of his eye you can feel it deepen slightly.

✧ You arrive first, and to your surprise Boromir arrives second.

✧ There’s a moment of recognition before he smiles, grasping your hand and pulling you into a half-hug, expressing he’s glad you're here.

✧ When you ask why, he says that it’s refreshing to have someone who isn’t his brother to challenge him on his opinions.

✧ You smile with him, before reassuring him jokingly that you will certainly tell him if he’s wrong.

✧ He laughs with you, a cheerful look in his eyes before he turns back to you, promising that he can take the criticism - and if you see flaws you should say them.

✧ For one of the first times you feel truly welcome in a military meeting between rangers and the soldiers of Minas Tirith, and for that you’re grateful.

𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐫

✧ Waiting was bad enough, especially with a hang-over and a potential marriage on the line. Apparently your father was rich enough to skip most of the queue, but not rich enough for the Steward to glance over at you for more than the minute you had been introduced.

✧ It was nice, honestly, and gave you more time to try and place the mysterious figure you remember from last night.

✧ You feel you’re getting somewhere when the door opens and the two Steward’s sons appear - and then it hits you.

✧ On his part, Faramir doesn’t want to be here either. He doesn’t agree with this thing, he has a headache, and he feels guilty about the previous night.

✧ He’s already resolved to go there again, and this time not try to get drunk, so he can apologise to the stranger he kissed - the drunken stranger.

✧ And then, as his eyes scan the hall of waiting people, he recognises you.

✧ His first thought is how beautiful you look in your finery (it’s clear why his drunken self went to you for affection), and the second is panic as to what he’s going to be able to do about this.

✧ When he accompanies his father, memorising the names of people who may become his in-laws, he stops when you introduce yourself.

✧ Boromir can tell something is different about this meeting, as can his father, but there’s no additional time spent with you. Faramir cannot even say a word to you before he’s moving.

✧ It’s only in their chambers that his father congratulates him for finally taking an interest in the event, and that he may also conduct the interviews with potential in-laws.

✧ The only name on his list that matters is yours.

𝐄𝐨𝐰𝐲𝐧

✧ Despite travelling together, you haven’t truly seen Éowyn - or looked out for her - until you see her handing out stew to the Rohirrim.

✧ Reminded of your hunger, you smile and catch her eye, glad she turns to you and not your brother.

✧ Approaching, she offers you the bowl and some of the stew which you eagerly take, stopping briefly to look at it.

✧ It isn’t the most appealing thing you’ve seen, but you’re also a ranger from the north, so it isn’t like you can be judging food.

✧ As you taste it, you’re suddenly hyper-aware of Éowyn’s eyes on you. And the fact she’ll see if you spit it out.

✧ Forcing yourself to swallow, you look back up at her and think back to the conversation you had with her previously; perhaps small talk can save you from the food.

✧ Eyes landing on Gimli, you ask if he’s already told her the dwarven woman story - glad when you make her laugh. Keeping going, you share a tale of your own.

✧ Smiles are given again, and when you keep talking you find you're talking not to keep her mind off the stew, but because you genuinely enjoy her company.

✧ When she gives another laugh, a thought briefly hits you that - perhaps - this was worth the stew.

✧ As she leaves, a sudden burst of inspiration hits you. “Aragorn was out of rations, last I checked. I imagine he’ll appreciate the food.”

𝐄𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫

✧ Not too long after your first meeting, Éomer sees you again outside of his sister’s rooms.

✧ With a bit of reflection, he realises he’s seen you in this same spot before, and is slightly annoyed at himself for having not introduced himself to you sooner.

✧ When he walks over to you, this time, he makes his footsteps echo more so as not to startle you.

✧ You look up instantly, and he’s relieved when you recognise him with a smile.

✧ He’s glad he could meet you again, and tells you as much, not noticing the blush that creeps onto your cheeks.

✧ Unsure of what to talk about, you resort to asking him about his day.

✧ Éomer instantly brightens, and begins to explain about the recent troop that has gone out, and the new saddles that are to be fitted later today.

✧ With his enthusiasm and level of detail it’s almost like you’ve asked him the best question of his life, and the worry you have of being able to carry a conversation fades away.

✧ This time when Éowyn interrupts you, the disappointment makes itself just a little more known.

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐝

✧ When Tilda suggests making cookies for Sigrid’s saviour, Bard agrees that it’s a great idea and is happy to spend the morning baking with his daughter (and the rest of the kids, once they realise what he’s doing).

✧ It’s only once the cookies are made that he realises he has no idea where you live, or even where you work.

✧ He’s resigned to your fate of not getting the cookies until the kids insist they should try and find you - and the three drag him out of the house to search around Laketown.

✧ He’s just beginning to give up hope when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees you on duty.

✧ The kids latch on and immediately run to you, dragging their father along and making him give you the cookies while telling you everything you could possibly want to know about them.

✧ It’s honestly very sweet, and the sincerity in their voices makes you smile.

✧ You shake off Bard’s worries that they’re being annoying, and thank him for going out to search for you.

✧ He still insists it’s no big deal, and at the end of the day - Tilda eventually needs to go home - he has no regrets.

✧ Except that he never found out your patrol route.

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐢𝐥

✧ After getting the job, it takes you almost a week to meet the king again - although his son is quickly enamoured by you.

✧ You finally encounter him again when Legolas insists he cannot read from any book except Glaer tathren, and you’re exasperated enough to go with him to the royal library so he can pick it out.

✧ Predictably, the guards refuse to let you inside, so you make one of them go with Legolas and promise to be back soon.

✧ It isn’t until the guards next to you bow that you realise your king is behind you, and when you turn around to greet him he’s really too close to bow too.

✧ Seeing your obvious internal struggle amuses him, and he reassures that it is ok not to bow before enquiring what you are doing.

✧ Once you explain he opens the library doors, before bidding you to follow him - giving you full permission to browse through here even without one of them.

✧ When you get in Legolas instantly runs up to you, holding his book and demanding to be read too before he notices his father.

✧ You then spend the next few minutes trying not to die inside when Legolas insists you're a much better story reader than the king is (“because they do voices, ada. You’re boring!”)

𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥

✧ The next day you begin to head to the training grounds again - eager to put yourself back in the lead - before you realise that Tauriel may not be there.

✧ It’s strangely disappointing for you, especially considering you’ve only met her yesterday, but good sparring partners are hard to find.

✧ With the disappointment your blades feel dull in your hands, not as polished and good as they could be, so you decide to go to the armoury and get them touched up.

✧ “I hope I didn’t damage your weapon too badly.”

✧ Tauriel’s voice is instantly familiar, and you grin at her when you see her also sharpening her sword.

✧ She quickly tosses a whetstone to you before moving up along where she’s sitting, inviting you to sit next to her.

✧ The noise of sword against sharpening rock doesn’t make for the best conversation, but you enjoy sitting with her in silence for the time it takes your blades to get up to scratch.

✧ Finishing earlier, she begins to head out before turning to face you and asking if you could train together two days from now.

✧ You eagerly agree.

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐫

✧ Staring into Rivendell’s gardens, you wish you could appreciate the beauty of it without worrying about the hurt elf.

✧ There’s footsteps and you turn around to see Lord Elrond, who greets you before confirming you are the one that saved Lindir.

✧ When you say you are, he smiles and tells you that he is awake and asking for you.

✧ You don’t bother to hide the relief on your face, but do try to refrain from running into the healing ward and making a horrible first impression. (Or second impression, depending on if the same elves are still there.)

✧ Lindir is surprised when you walk through the door. The elegance of the bowshot, the quickness at which you dealt with the orcs, he was sure you were an elf.

✧ You see his slightly bemused expression before he hastens to reassure you it isn’t disappointment, simply unexpected.

✧ On your end you’re highly honoured, and try to keep your smile from being too wide while he’s still bearing a massive wound.

✧ There’s some silence before Lindir remembers to thank you, showering you with praise and apologising for his breach of etiquette.

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐫

✧ After the meeting with Galadriel you still feel uneasy, unworthy to gaze into the eyes of the greatest elves in Middle Earth or to keep company with Legolas, the prince you are charged to protect.

✧ When the lament to Gandalf begins, the rest of the Fellowship begins to drift into smaller groups and you decide to leave to explore Lothlórien.

✧ The trees are beautiful, and remind you of your homeland of Mirkwood - although without Sauron’s taint.

✧ You’re so absorbed you don’t even notice the marchwarden approaching behind you, eager to speak after you had only exchanged a few words.

✧ “Consider these words as a warning for my arrival, if only so I don’t end up with an arrow in my side.”

✧ Upon hearing his voice you turn around, glancing guiltily at your bow, and again ask if there’s nothing you can do to apologise.

✧ Haldir again insists you’ve done no wrong, and instead offers you a tour of Lothlórien with him, only expressing sadness that you cannot see it while the leaves are golden.

✧ As the two of you walk he asks you about tales of Mirkwood and the halls of the Elvenking, which you gladly share with him.

✧ The two of you walk for so long you lose track of time, only noticing when dawn begins to break through the tree-line.

✧ This time it’s he who apologises to you for keeping you so long, and you reassuring him all is forgiven.

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐧

✧ As you walk into Rivendell’s library, you begin to wonder what your next book to borrow will be. You’ve been steadily working through Elladan’s reading list, or at least the books he’d recommended, and all of them were wonderful.

✧ You hoped the two of you could meet again - if only so he could give more advice in the library.

✧ There’s almost complete silence in the library, but you can hear the quiet sound of soft breathing - as if someone is asleep.

✧ Following it you come across the sleeping half-elf, form gently slumped over a piece of script and surrounded by books.

✧ Elladan looks so peaceful and you let out a soft laugh, instantly feeling bad when he awakes and looks around sleepily.

✧ Noticing you, he immediately begins to defend himself (rather terribly) before taking a second to look at you again and realise who you are.

✧ This time, he briefly runs his hand through this hair before asking if you’d like to join him in reading.

✧ Soon enough you begin talking, sharing interesting details to each other from the books you’re currently reading while Elladan asks if you liked his recommendations.

✧ And if, in the morning, when Elrond comes into the library and sees the two of you asleep together. Well, he simply smiles and leaves you alone - instructing others not to disturb you in the library.

𝐄𝐥𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐫

✧ It’s only after meeting Aragorn in the Houses of Healing that Elrohir remembers your promise to him, and his horse.

✧ Some confusion must show on his face as Aragorn inquires the matter, and Elrohir confesses what he’s done. A small smile starts on Aragorn’s face, before Pippin speaks up and gives a description of you - asking if you’re the person Elrohir speaks of.

✧ When he confirms Pippin explains you were in here only a half-hour ago, checking on the condition of your twin before heading back out to look for the wounded.

✧ Spurred on by this fact, Elrohir decides to wait outside the houses until you arrive again - riding in with a man and looking almost dead.

✧ As the wounded man is taken away, he holds onto his horse before you leave and asks if you’re alright.

✧ You respond that you’re fine, and he asks you when you last rested. The guilty look on your face betrays you, and Elrohir has no problem guilt-tripping you into sleeping - promising he’ll continue helping with the wounded.

✧ Still not trusting you, he escorts you himself to some new rooms and makes Pippin promise to keep you there.

✧ At the time you’re annoyed at him, you outrank him in Gondor, but as your head hits the bedroll laid out for you, you can’t help but be thankful for his kindness.

Hopefully your enjoying the storylines so far. Here are the details about requests, and again thanks for reading!

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