#elvenkings need love too

[raider-k]

This Hobbit quote feels accurate:

“I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence, to see if you really were as great as the old tales say.”

🔥🔥🔥

(Okayyyyy���I KNOW it’s about Smaug, but Bilbo probably would have said it about Thranduil had he seen THESE pictures.)

These Thranduil promo shots are golden

[emmyspov]

Prioritise yourself (Thranduil x Reader)

author's note: happy easter to everyone who celebrates it and a happy weekend to all either way🪻this is honestly one of the most scary things i've posted because it's something so personal that i relate to a lot, but i thought maybe someone else might need it, too🥺 please always remember that nothing will ever be more important than your health and well-being 🩷

warnings: symptoms of burnout, lack of sleep, exhaustion, negative self-talk, skipping meals, mentions of food, nudity (for taking a bath together) - please please please let me know if I forgot something! 🩷

word count: 1.9k

edit is mine, all pics are from pinterest :)

It had seemed like a smart idea when you offered Thranduil to help him with all the paperwork.

His days were filled with meetings and more often than not he only returned to your chambers once it was dark already.

So, for the past few months, you had been - more or less secretly - helping him with whatever you could: sending out invitations to other royals, filing away documents, re-writing contracts so all that would be left to do was sign them.

You were the king's partner after all and you wanted to help him as much as possible. This was your kingdom, your home, as much as it was his, as he regularly reminded you.

Thranduil noticed, obviously. The hours in his study were reduced since most things were taken care of in a perfect way already - he could return to your private rooms right after dinner and spend time with you instead which the Elvenking appreciated immensely.

However, over the past few weeks, things have taken a turn. And Thranduil noticed that, too.

How, on some days, you would get up earlier than him, how you would skip lunch and dinner with him - although it was one of your favorite things since you got to spend it with one another during your otherwise busy schedules - and instead eat by yourself, hunched over some papers. He noticed your tired eyes and dull skin and- lack happiness, to cut it short.

Worry didn't even remotely describe what he was feeling. He felt sick to his stomach when he thought about you being unhappy.

Today was no different.

You had gotten up before sunrise, leaving your husband a little love letter, before entering your own study to take care of all official things.

There was a lot to do. Other elves as much as people from Laketown and even dwarves were sending letters, hoping to schedule a meeting with the king himself to talk over whatever was bothering them.

You made it your mission to answer every single one of them, noting down appointments and also sending out excuses if Thranduil wasn't the right one to talk to when it came to certain matters.

By the end of the day, your head was pounding. You let out a yawn and rubbed your eyes, hoping to relieve some of the pressure behind them, but to no use.

Closing them for only a minute wouldn't hurt. You could still look for your husband afterwards.

A line had been crossed for the Elvenking.

It was the second day in a row that you skipped your shared meals and from what he just learned, you weren't eating them at all.

He needed to talk to you. He wouldn’t - and couldn’t - let you destroy yourself over some work. Your happiness and well being came first and he would make you realise that, no matter the cost.

After reaching your study and receiving no answer to his knocks, he let himself in with determined steps, only to stop abruptly as soon as he saw your sleeping figure. His eyes softened immediately.

"Oh, meleth."

With two big steps, he was by your side, crouching down until he was on eye level with you. Even in your sleep, you looked stressed, your eyebrows scrunched up, reminding him of the times you woke up from a bad dream.

"What are you doing to yourself, hm?"

Gentle, as if you would break like glass if he touched you with too much force, he picked you up and carried you out of the room and into your shared bed chamber where he set you down on the soft mattress and covered you with a fluffy blanket.

Thranduil left the room again for only a few moments so he could blow out the candle in your study and put everything where it belonged. He himself hated to work at a messy desk and didn't want you to deal with the same thing once you would return to work, although he didn't want to think about that yet. For now, you needed rest and all the love and care you could get.

He returned to your bedroom after he spoke to some of his subordinates to let them know neither he nor you would be available in the next three days.

You were still fast asleep, curled up into the blanket. The king walked over to you and slowly began to remove all your uncomfortable clothing before he himself put on a night gown.

Only then did he lay down next to you, carefully maneuvering your body into his arms, your head on his chest. Even in your sleep you wrapped your arm around his waist and entangled your legs, letting out a small sigh.

"Sleep, meleth, you've been working too hard", your husband whispered and brought his delicate fingertips up to brush some hair out of your face before letting them trail down to your back, rubbing some calming circles into your shoulder. "I'll watch over you, I promise."

And Thranduil kept his word.

He stayed up to make sure you slept through the night, occasionally pressing a kiss to your temple or the top of your head while his fingers were always touching you in some way.

It was nearly lunch time when you woke up the next day.

After noticing you were still cuddled up with your husband although the sun was already shining into the room, you immediately sat up.

"I- I overslept, oh Varda, there is so much to do. Why didn’t you wake me, my love?"

With a gentle force, Thranduil pressed you back onto the mattress.

"You've been overworking yourself for weeks and your health and happiness are suffering in return. I told everyone we wouldn't be available for the next few days. For the foreseeable future, we'll only take care of you."

You didn't want to cry. And you tried really hard to keep the tears at bay, but when the Elvenking looked at you with so much love in his eyes, you couldn’t stop them.

"I'm sorry for failing you, my king."

The elf wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. "Oh meleth, no. No, you didn't fail me, you never have. And you never will."

"I can't even take care of myself", you hiccuped, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "It's like the work and the pressure never stop and I'll never be good enough and now I am sitting here, crying to you, a literal king who has way more responsibility than me. I am so sorry to burden you with this."

Thranduil's heart was breaking. He couldn't believe this was how you saw yourself when, to him, you were the most beautiful being in all of Middle Earth.

"You are never a burden to me. Do you hear me? Never. We can fix this. You have to learn how to prioritise yourself. I can teach you. I will teach you. And we will start right now. You must be hungry, what do you want to eat?"

You fumbled around with your hands before looking up at the Elvenking. "Could I have some pancakes?"

Thranduil leaned forward to press a kiss against your nose. "Whatever you want, meleth nîn."

With one swift motion, he got up, put on one of his majestic robes and made his way to the kitchen to order your beloved pancakes and some additional treats as well as some hot and cold beverages.

He returned to your chambers with a first tray of food, watching your face lit up with delight at the sweet smell.

"Here you go, my love. Eat as much as you want and take all the time you need. There are no other things that need to get done today or the next few days."

You nodded and grabbed a plate, happily munching on the food the servants were bringing in over time.

The king was watching you carefully while he himself ate something. It was more than obvious that all the food was good for your mind, body and soul.

You let yourself fall back against the sheets when you were done, letting out a satisfied sigh. "That was good."

"It is about to get better. What do you think of a bath?"

Your eyes lit up. "Right now?"

The elf couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Is that what you want?"

You sat up, enthusiastically bouncing on the mattress and nodding your head. "Yes, please!"

Thranduil stood up again and walked into the bathroom, filling the tub with hot water and your favourite bath salts and flower petals before coming back to you.

With ease, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the bed, carrying you into the bathroom.

"Arms up", he ordered gently and removed your clothing, doing the same to himself afterwards.

"You're so handsome", you breathed out as you softly pressed your hand against his chest, right above his heart. "I'm so lucky to have you."

Thranduil's heart started to beat faster under your touch and praise and you smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach at the fact that you still had this effect on him.

He lifted you into the tub, setting you down and lowering himself behind you, pulling your body flush against his chest.

"I'm the lucky one."

You shook your head before letting it fall back against his shoulder. "You take care of me when I can't do it myself."

The king's deft fingers brushed through your hair, letting them trail down your arm. "We take care of each other. You are the one who decreased my work load so I'd have more time."

You intertwined your hands. "Well, of course. I want you to be well."

A kiss was pressed against the top of your head. "Do you see my point?"

You nodded. "I think I do."

Thranduil let his thumb brush over the back of your hand. "Tomorrow, we can take a walk in the garden and look at all the blossoming flowers. Or we can do whatever else will make you happy."

A smile graced your lips. "Just being with you makes me happy."

Gently, the ellon grabbed your chin and turned your head around so he could kiss you. You melted into his embrace, smiling against his lips.

"Gi melin", he whispered after you two had parted for air and you replied with the same sentiment.

Once you two had soaked in the water for a while, the Elvenking grabbed your shampoo and lathered up his hands before bringing them up to your scalp to work in the product.

The more time you spend like this with your husband - in your little bubble of happiness and safety - the lighter your heart felt.

And it only got better when Thranduil's hands wandered down your head to your neck and shoulders, massaging your tense muscles to help you relax even further.

You shuddered and the king grinned to himself. He was just as pleased as you were earlier that his touch could, still, make you weak in the knees.

"Rest, meleth", he whispered as he continued to work on your upper back. "There will be time to talk about long-term adjustments and solutions, but for now, you can let yourself fall. I'll be there to catch you."

Everything-Taglist: @shadowhuntyi @asgardianhobbit98 @fizzyxcustard

-> if you want to be added or removed from my taglist, just shoot me a message or an ask 🩷

[madwomansapologist]

Autumn Thunderstorm | Chapter 12 - Mortals and fools

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series synopsis: Thranduil thought the recent attack of spiders on a periphery village was the only thing deserving of his attencion. If he could've imagined what he would found there, who he would found there, the Elvenking would wait a millenia in front of that river so he could see her sooner. Or: how Gandalf managed to keep a secret for 14 months.

twelfth: Thranduil gave you his heart, knowing one day you will break it. It's past time you trust him too. [1.6K]

notes: hehe playing with canon.

glossary: Idril: Treasure, sweetheart┆

Heavy steps echoed down the hall, making the emptiness of the gallery more obvious. Good, you needed to be alone. Wandering again among ancient tapestries and paintings, for once your eyes ignored the beauty and technique behind each thread. Not their tales of adventure and grief: you admired that all of them survived this far.

When things last for a long time, it can be safe to assume they are resistant. That they are responsible for their survival. That is not true with art. No painting or song, tapestry or dance, ever lasted because of their own innate strength. What force could a melody about Gil-Galad ever have to defend itself? Is there a fabric that would not burn to ashes near a flame?

Lifetimes ago someone touched the very same painting you admire now. Lifetimes after you, someone will be brave enough to touch it again instead of just watching. When art survives, it is out of the stubbornness of those who hold it dear enough to shield it from time.

And for now, those ancient pieces are stubbornly protected by the ancient beings living within the Elvenking’s Halls. A place that often makes you wonder about time, and how the smallest of things can make you travel in it. A palace that keeps the rot of mankind far away, and the brightness of immortality always near.

Absentmindedly, your fingers lingered over the gems weighing down your collarbone.

Do you reek of mortality? A youth doomed to end; a thing made to age and perish. Your life was very short. What you can recall of it, that is. A blink in their experienced eyes. There is so much you never saw and never will.

How can you be certain that someone is righteous when you never saw evil? What is peace to you, someone that never saw war? A messenger from Lothlórien told you the world became darker since he last travelled far from his land. As for you, the world looks bright enough to blind you as it is now.

One day you shall be gone and the ellons shall continue to shine as the land rots and darkens until they sail away one last time. You never thought much about death before. Why waste your time worrying about what you cannot stop? It was unreasonable until an ancient being confessed his love to you. Now, it is all you can think about.

That night, lulled by his soft caresses, death embedded your tired mind. The next morning, you woke up to a slightly comforting conclusion: Thranduil is stubborn. When he makes a decision there is no turning back. He calls it endurance; you argued it was a matter of semantics.

Thranduil is stubborn, and that is why his domains endures. Why all the art in this gallery survived longer than royal bloodlines and rock castles. Why his enemies are buried and his friends stand still.

You trust Thranduil to protect what will remain of you once you are gone. His stubbornness will preserve his memories and you, a small thing in this very large world, will survive along with him.

So why now you feel so lonely? If your future with him is so certain, why the present feels so unsure? There is something you cannot share with Thranduil. That you do not know how to express. A feeling that something does not fit anymore. Much more than a feeling, what you have is a doubt. And the amount of damage a single, genuine doubt can provoke is still unknow to you.

You were in Mordor too.

Those were the words that awakened Thranduil. Words that you could not possibly know to be true at the time. Thranduil never told you that. Maybe you could have assumed his burns had something to do with the fires of that wretched place, but at the moment you simply did not knew he was burned to begin with.

And those are the same words that keep you from sleeping at night. Words that imply that you had been there too. Words that escaped from your mouth after you felt watched and burned by His ever-hungry eye. Words that maybe could mean nothing at all, but that awakened Thranduil nonetheless.

You wanted to share this with him, but how could you? It does not make sense. You cannot even put it into words. A fool. That is what you are.

“Idril?”

A squeal escaped your throat. You jumped in place, back colliding with Thranduil’s chest. Tilting your head, eyes wide open, you stared at him. He was so close, and still you did not hear him until he spoke. It was almost as if Thranduil crawled out of your mind.

Thranduil smiled, and his eyes had a different glow in them. “Lost in thought?”

You sighed, a dry laugh finding a way out of you. “You sneaky viper!”

“What are you talking about, idril? I am worried about you”, Thranduil pretended to be offended, but he was laughing too. Holding you by your shoulders, his long fingers caressed your skin. “It became one of my favorites too, but there is no reason to hold your breath.”

A heartbeat later, you understood. Thranduil assumed you got distracted admiring the painting in front of you. Following his gaze, you took a deep breath. You intertwined your fingers with his, and in silence you both took in the painting.

Moonshine marked the silhouette of a man. His head was turned to face the top of a hill, where an elven danced on top of flowers and leaves. Her long hair moved like water around her body, almost as if it was dancing on its own too. Her smile, wide and pure.

“The leaves were long, the grass was green”, Thranduil hummed. “The hemlock-umbels tall and fair. And in the glade a light was seen, of stars in shadow shimmering.”

It was a song. And one you heard before. Enlightened, the painting gained a new meaning to you. Raising your eyes, you observed Thranduil. His own were closed, face relaxed. Feeling his chest move up and down, you hesitated. Thranduil looked so young now.

“Is this Lúthien and Beren?”

A smile grew on his face. Such a small thing, but genuine. It made your heart ache. “Have you heard of them before?”

A frog in a well knows nothing of the sea. You are a fool wondering about ancient art as if you are smart enough to understand what stood right in front of you. For how long you stayed there, staring a Lúthien, without realizing she was the elven from the stories? How can you think so much about the past and not learn from it?

This is not the first time an elven and a mortal fell in love. You are not the first to wonder about death when you were supposed to rejoice how lucky you were to find someone to love. You are not the first fool in the world.

“A love story”, you said. A bittersweet taste invaded your mouth. “The best of them.”

Thranduil gave you his heart, knowing that when you eventually break it will never heal again. He trusts you to take care of it until then, and accepted that after your life comes to an end, he will be alone. Thranduil deems it worth it. He made peace with the nature of your love.

 “Yes”, Thranduil opened his eyes. “For now.”

It is your turn to do the same. To trust your heart to Thranduil. To accept tomorrow.

“Thranduil,” you whispered. Taking a step forward, his touch freed you. It took you a moment to prepare yourself. Facing him, you hid your hands behind your back. You intertwined your finger to keep them from shaking. “Do you want me to be your secret?”

Thranduil blinked. “I am not sure of what you mean, idril.”

It took so much of you to keep looking into his blue eyes. “You are a king, and I am… Lossëistar. I will never stop being someone that did not deserved a name. Lady Aerin thought you pitied me. She even… I know others will think the same. What I want to know since that night is if I will be your secret. If I embarrass you.”

At that, you looked away. Part of you feared he would agree, part of you hoped he would deny. None were brave enough to watch him chose between the option you presented him.

Thranduil took a step closer. His hands cupped your cheeks, and for once his touch did not feel gentle. It was demanding. Were you expected warmth, you found certainty. He made you look at him, and the coldness in his eyes made shiver run down your spine.

“Pity you?” Thranduil growled. Was he… angry at you? You never saw him like that before. Brows furrowed, words sharp, hands rough. Have you crossed a line? Maybe you offended him. “You shall be my queen.”

You gasped. “But… Thranduil, I…”

He gave no time for your surprised words. Staring into your eyes, you felt as if he could see your bare soul. Lurking over you, Thranduil showed you he was deserving of your trust. “Do you know what the gems in your necklace are? Do you know what they are called?”

“White gems?” You looked down, trying to run away from his gaze. Their glow almost blinded you. It was different from any other jewel you ever saw. Somehow, deep inside you knew only elves and dwarves together could craft something as enchanting.

Thranduil made you look up again. As you heard his words, the right answer, all doubts were expelled from your head. Covering your mouth with trembling hands, you were once more a fool. Or maybe, this time, Thranduil was simply insane.

“They are called Silmarils.”

AUTUMN THUNDERSTORM: @ferns-fics @notanalienindisguiseblink @rayrlupin @elvyshiarieko @graniairish @h0ly-fire @whore-of-many-hot-men @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @homewhereitsat @instantnoooodles @hungrh4yyy @scrumpdidlyuptious @mirandastuckinthe80s @linaaajacksos

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[bookwormjust]

Imagine: Thranduil’s Love

The grand halls of Thranduil’s palace shimmered with the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the intricately carved windows, casting silver patterns on the polished stone floor. The gentle rustle of leaves from the ancient trees outside created a soft symphony that seemed to pulse with the heartbeat of the Woodland Realm. Despite the grandeur of the Elvenking’s abode, there was a serene quiet that made the place feel more like a hidden sanctuary than a fortress.

You stood by one of the large arching windows, gazing out at the twilight-draped forest. The trees, ancient and wise, swayed softly under the cool night breeze. Your long, curly brown hair cascaded down your back, catching the faint light as it danced in soft waves. You could feel the lingering magic of the woods, a gentle hum that seemed to echo with the stories of those who had walked these lands before.

Thranduil approached silently, his presence like a soft breeze, gentle but commanding. His silver hair fell in perfect waves over his shoulders, his regal robes flowing with his every step. He had the kind of beauty that was both ethereal and daunting, a presence that commanded attention and respect. But when his eyes found you, they softened, a warmth spreading across his usually composed features.

“Mae govannen, meleth nîn,” he greeted softly, his voice a melodic whisper that seemed to wrap around you like a warm embrace. He always spoke to you in Elvish, the language flowing as naturally from him as the wind through the trees, each word laced with affection and tenderness that he reserved only for you.

You turned to him, your lips curving into a gentle smile. “Mae govannen, Thranduil.” His name felt like a song on your lips, a familiar melody that had become the rhythm of your heart.

He stepped closer, his gaze sweeping over you with a quiet reverence. Thranduil’s eyes, sharp as a hawk’s and yet softened by the depths of his love, held a thousand unspoken words. You were the only one who ever saw this side of him—the side that was not the aloof, powerful king of the Woodland Realm, but simply Thranduil, the elf whose heart was bound to yours for eternity.

Thranduil reached out, his hand gentle as he tucked a stray curl behind your ear. “Ú-caro naur, meleth nîn,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the delicate curve of your cheek. His words were like a tender caress, their meaning sinking deep into your soul. Do not fear, my love.

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his palm grounding you in this moment. “Man mathach?” you asked softly, your voice carrying a hint of concern. How are you? The weight of the crown was heavy, and you knew that the burdens of the realm often left shadows on his heart.

Thranduil sighed, his expression softening further as he traced the outline of your face with his eyes. “Cenin tegi nadad, anuir a achenor. A aníron le, meleth nîn.” I carry two burdens—forever the crown, and my love for you. But I desire only you, my love.

There was a fragility in his words, a rare vulnerability that he only ever allowed himself to show when you were alone. You knew the weight of his past, the scars that ran deep from battles both on the field and within his heart. And yet, despite the centuries of loss and hardship, he stood here, offering you all that he was and all that he had left to give.

“I feel it too,” you whispered, your hand moving to cover his where it rested against your cheek. “Your love is all I will ever need.”

Thranduil’s eyes searched yours, as if he were committing every detail of this moment to memory. The flickering light of the fire illuminated his sharp features, casting gentle shadows that highlighted the quiet strength etched into every line of his face. He was a king, a warrior, a guardian of the forest—but here, with you, he was simply a husband, a lover who had given his heart fully and irrevocably.

“Gwedhithon le anann, nín meleth,” he murmured, his voice a soft promise that echoed in the quiet space between you. I will bind myself to you forever, my love.

Thranduil leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His touch was reverent, as though he were handling the most delicate of treasures. He drew you closer, his arms encircling you with a protective warmth that spoke of an unbreakable bond—a bond forged not only in love but in understanding, in shared loss, and in the quiet moments that you held sacred between you.

The pain of his past was a shadow that lingered, the memory of his lost love a scar that would never fully fade. But you were not a replacement, nor a mere echo of what once was. You were his true mate, his heart’s only desire in this lifetime and beyond. His one and only, as the ancient Elven love songs spoke of, the other half of his soul that he had found once again.

“Ú-moe edhored,” he whispered against your hair, holding you tightly as if you might disappear if he let go. I will not lose you. His voice was steady, but you could hear the unspoken fears laced beneath his words, the quiet desperation of a heart that had known too much loss.

You lifted your face to his, your fingers gently brushing against the strong line of his jaw. “I’m here,” you assured him, your voice a steady whisper that cut through the lingering silence. “And I will always be here. We have eternity, Thranduil. And I choose you—now and always.”

A rare smile tugged at his lips, the kind that reached his eyes and softened the regal lines of his face. “Elye aníra amin ve’ quessir ten’ naur, a aníron amin ú mereth an gwend an le,” he said, his words carrying the weight of a promise only an elf could truly make. You are the flame that reignites the fire in me, and I want no love but yours.

He kissed you then, slow and tender, a kiss that spoke of promises kept and a future intertwined with the threads of fate. His lips were soft against yours, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he were pouring all the love and devotion he held for you into that single, lingering kiss.

When he finally pulled away, Thranduil rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own in the quiet intimacy of the moment. “Le melon,” he whispered, the words soft and filled with a depth of emotion that transcended the simplicity of the phrase. I love you.

And you knew, in that space where only the two of you existed, that Thranduil’s love was a constant, an unbreakable thread that wove your hearts together, bound by fate and the unyielding strength of an elven soul’s true devotion.

[sotwk]

Social Customs and Faux Pas in Eryn Galen 

Dearest Gentle Reader:

You may have heard rumors about the “dangerous” and "less wise" Silvan people of the Woodland Realm, which conjure images of these native dwellers of Greenwood the Great as uncouth, untamed, or practically bestial creatures. As the oldest and largest tribe of Eldar to continue thriving in Middle-earth even into the Third Age, they certainly started out primitive and crude compared to their High-elven kin, as was their deliberately chosen path. However, many allegations by certain scholars regarding the wildness of the Greenwood Silvans have been exaggerated, and fail to acknowledge the cultural amalgamation that occurred within the first millennium of the Second Age.

Although the Sindar who arrived and settled in Greenwood were enthroned as the ruling lords, in the reunion and mixing of the two cultures, Silvan customs and language were the ones to prevail. Many of the rigid social constructs that governed the Sindar during their old life in Doriath were set aside, departing from what is typically still deemed acceptable and refined by the western cities of High Elves and High Men. 

Differences in social norms that carried through to the Third Age can perhaps be best illustrated by comparing the etiquette observed by the Numenorean descendants in the surviving Kingdom of Gondor, to that of the free-spirited Silvan Elves under Elvenking Thranduil’s rule. 

Below are some examples, written as answers to specific questions asked by one dear friend and a particularly curious Gentle Reader:

Would Silvans laugh at the idea of needing a chaperone to look after an unmarried couple? 

Silvans would most certainly laugh and shake their heads at the notion of a chaperone in any instance. What a most bothersome and inconvenient custom! What sort of calamity is a chaperone expected to prevent by their presence? In Eryn Galen, people of all genders, races, classes, and ages could openly or privately socialize with each other without fear of gossip or scandal. 

Are Silvans just going around holding gloveless hands with each other without a care in the world?

Only soldiers and hunters are known to wear gloves, and as Silvans are fond of physical touch as a show of affection, platonic or otherwise, then it would seem the amount of prolonged hand-holding and skin touching that occurs daily in Eryn Galen would make Gondorians swoon, indeed. At this point, I will refrain from describing the other popular forms of perfectly acceptable public displays of affection, should it prove too salacious for your nerves. 

Is there a socially acceptable way for them to make their intentions known (or to rebuff someone's intentions) during a dance? Or are their dances and parties so informal that they don't really compare to the regency idea of a ball at all?

Silvans absolutely love to dance, and they do so at every single community gathering and celebration. For most of the Second Age, dancing in Eryn Galen was done in groups (lines or circles) rather than with partners. Social dances and balls were not popularized until the Third Age; the marriage of Elvenking Thranduil and Queen Maereth romanticized paired dancing and introduced the concept of balls as a courtship ritual.  

While dancing with someone at a ball is not automatically viewed as romantic, balls are considered more formal events, most often hosted by the Royal Family themselves. They are seen as prime opportunities for unmarried people to socialize with the likely (but not obligatory) intent of romantic courtship and marriage. 

There are no hard rules or timelines to dictate how courtship is done among Silvans. However, it is greatly frowned upon for Elves (or anyone) to toy or trifle with the feelings of another, so romantic desires and intentions must be declared as soon as they are fully recognized in oneself. A ball could be a wonderful romantic setting to do this, but what is considered important is that one must look at the other person in the eye and speak their heart openly and plainly.  If the affections being offered are unwelcome or unreciprocated, then it is the duty of the recipient to gently but clearly rebuff those affections. Silvans are generally unbashful about this, and any shyness they may feel is overshadowed by their sense of honor. 

It must be noted that Elves never rush headlong into marriage, and thus a courtship often outlasts the lifespan of a mortal Man--even the long-lived Dunedain. Therefore, one can only conclude it is illogical to judge the customs of these two races against each other. 

What would be considered scandalous behavior (by Silvans)?

Outside of marriage, Silvans would not frown or judge one another on the quantity or quality of relationships they engage in throughout their long lives. The loose or lacking restrictions against displays of affection or proper public behavior would also indicate that flirtations, dalliances, and other practices that might be deemed promiscuous in Gondor would not raise eyebrows in Eryn Galen. It should also be noted, however, that compared to the race of Men, Silvans are more likely to be bored of or disinterested in sexual liaisons and far less moved by carnal impulses. This alone drastically decreases the occurrences of "scandalous behavior" as commonly defined by puritan society.

Silvans value honor, loyalty, and service to the community above all. Strong marriages and large, happy families are considered the pride and strength of their society, and so they take the commitments to these institutions very seriously.

Once a Silvan elf chooses to marry, they are bound to much stricter codes of conduct. In Silvan culture, the vow of marriage is considered an unbreakable oath, hallowed by the Valar and binding both the fëa and hröa of two Elves together. The commitment to monogamy goes hand-in-hand with an eternal oath to love and care for all children born to or adopted by the married couple.

The highest scandal in Eryn Galen, therefore, is the betrayal of these familial oaths, either through infidelity to one's spouse or the abandonment or estrangement from one's children. Divorce and family feuds remain virtually non-existent in Eryn Galen.

How long would someone's reputation be ruined?

“Ruin” or shunning people is not really something that happens in Eryn Galen. 

An immortal life is too long a time to carry a grudge, or so the wise say. But more than that, the Silvans tend to be a more forgiving and compassionate people, led by a gracious King and Queen who have deep personal experiences with the value of “second chances”. Any wrongdoing, from a minor faux pas to a blatant crime, can be pardoned as long as forgiveness is sought and the proper restitution (as dictated by law of the realm), is delivered. Once a transgression has been pardoned, it is expected for all to “forgive and forget”. Harboring ill feelings or prolonging disputes is considered vulgar and detrimental to the community. 

Banishment, on the other hand, is a rare and extreme punishment issued only by the King himself. It is done to prevent an unrepentant criminal from causing further harm to the rest of the community. 

Thank you to my Gentle friend @scyllas-revenge who sent in this Ask! <3 This was fun!

For more SotWK AU headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist

Elves HC Tag List: Tags be added in comments temporarily while Tumblr tags are malfunctioning.

[merovingianprincess]

for the request, could you make a thranduil x reader where the reader gets sick and he fusses over them? Thank you! (p.s. love your writings!!)

Thank you for the request! I know this has been sitting in my inbox for weeks, I have just been very busy. For the love of god, someone please tell me how to do the dark sectioning line so my posts look nicer.

Thranduil x Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of the Middle Earth Universe. I will change up some things about the Woodland Castle, just to make it fit this more.

Summary: The Elvenking fussing over his sick beloved.

______________________________________________________

It started out you were feeling a slight headache after breakfast. You decided not to ignore it, thinking you needed some water and fresh air. After a cup of cold water, you let your guards know you would be heading outside to the gardens to walk around and get some air.

They stayed a few feet behind you, allowing you some sense of privacy here. You walked around leisurely, enjoying the beautiful hanging leaves of the weeping willows, the pretty scent of the roses, and the caws of the birds. The breeze was kind to you, sweeping your stray hairs out of your face and gently tickling your pointed ears. You breathed in and out deeply a couple times before you felt a strong wave of nausea hit you, you stopped in your tracks for a second. Hand going up to your collarbones, hoping this will pass.

"Is everything alright, my queen?" one of the guards called out to you.

You didn't know what to say or even if you could say anything as the bile in your throat couldn't decide whether to come up or go back down. You felt your body start to heat up a bit at the discomfort.

You brought your hand down from your collarbone down to your side and turned around to face the guards.

"I think I will head to my chambers and lie down actually," you responded, walking back from where you just came.

The guards nodded their heads and stood to the sides to let you walk past them, you tried not to walk too quickly, lest someone become alarmed. You strode down the various walkways until you reached your chamber doors, the guards leaving you there. Your hand grasped the door handle before you felt another wave of nausea, this time almost coming completely up.

You turned your head to the side and noticed one of the maids down the hallway chatting with a cook.

"Marian," you called out as strongly as you could.

The elleth ceased her conversation and walked briskly over to you, "Yes, my queen?" she asked attentively.

You swallowed as another round threatened to come up. "please fetch a healer for me," you said, hand turning the doorknob and slowly pushing it open, "and please notify the king that I won't be able to join him in the throne room today," you said calmly and quickly.

Marian nodded her head, wringing her hands together, but then spoke, "Yes my queen, I will be quick about it." she gave a curtsy and then was on her way.

You pushed yourself into your chambers, grabbing a carafe and shakily pouring yourself another glass of water. You drank the glass before setting down the cup and then held onto the table to kick off your shoes. You were starting to feel weak and the overheating you were feeling was beginning to make you feel freezing cold. It was late autumn, the fire in the hearth was roaring, but not chilly outside, or maybe you just didn't notice it. Now that you think about it, the guards were wearing wool cloaks.

You pulled out your jewelry and set it on the table before clumsily making your way to the bed. You pulled back the lush blankets and furs, crawling into the warmth of the shared bed. Though your favorite comfort was elsewhere. You sank into your spot and pulled the blankets over you, feeling a shiver now begin to take over your body.

You must have slipped out of consciousness for a few moments for the next moment you felt a hand on your forehead and the chamber doors being flung open.

"How is she?" you heard a deep melodic voice ask.

"I just arrived moments before you my king, she seems to have a fever of some sort." the healer replied to your husband.

Your eyes opened to see your husband who began to sit down on the foot of the bed, his hand reaching down and rubbing your shin over the blankets. He gave a small smile that he only reserved for you.

"You have a fever, my queen, are you feeling nauseous at all?" the healer asked.

You nodded your head, "A headache as well, I went for a walk in the gardens hoping that would help but instead, I started to feel worse." you explained, pulling the blankets up to your chin.

The healer hummed in response, "I believe you may have an autumn fever, it runs rampant in these parts for whatever reason."

Thranduil quickly darted his eyes to the healer, "That's all you can come up with?" he growled.

"Thranduil," you began.

"I've seen this hundreds of times my king, it's easy to spot and easy to treat. Her Majesty is not the first person this week to have this." the healer explained.

Thranduil opened his mouth to say something else before you cut him off, "Thank you, sir, can I please have something to relieve me of these symptoms?"

"Of course my queen, I will be back momentarily." the healer said with a bow before heading out of the chambers.

You looked back at your husband who was still rubbing your leg, "You don't have to worry about me or leave whatever it is that you were doing." You said, nudging him with your foot.

He nodded scooting up on the bed to sit next to your torso, "You are my love and my queen, I will always worry for you," he said taking your hand into his and rubbing it with his thumb.

"You and the realm will be just fine for a few days while I recover." you reasoned with him.

He smiled and leaned down to give a quick peck to your lips. "Well, then I will be right here by your side for the next few days."

"No, you need to run the realm," you protested still shivering.

"You just said the realm will be just fine, and I quite agree," he said kicking off his boots and taking off his cloak.

"Yes without me," you replied as he crawled over you onto the other side of the bed pulling back the blankets and getting underneath with you. He pulled you close in a cuddle.

"What are you doing? And what if you get sick?" you asked, settling into his warmth.

"Keeping you warm and if I get sick, we can be sick together," he said placing a kiss on your head, rubbing his hands up and down your body.

"How romantic," you chuckled before sleep took hold of you.

[mastererestor]

Look, the library was fun. But now you want us to build a tree? A tree?

There are about a bazillion different leaves for the Valar only know how many different kind of shrubbery here, and while Erestor can tell birch from oak, Glorfindel is sorting leaves into categories like „funny looking tree“, „odd looking tree“ and „tree-like tree“.

This will end in disaster. We need an expert.

„You have called for my assistance?“

„No, I have not! Not for your assistance, and definitely not for you!“

„Glorfindel, come and let us go count mushrooms. Trees are best left to our woodland kin.“

„A very wise decision, Master Erestor. I cannot work with amateurs in the way… ah, by the Forest Spirits! What is that?“

🐸💋

„Curse and botheration! What sort of rotten realm is this where innocent Elvenkings are kissed by amphibious lifeforms? This means war! I shall-„

„Greetings. My name is Bard. Do you need a hand?“

„A hand? Indeed. We must start somewhere, I suppose.“

„You must come and visit me in Mirkwood, Bard. It is particularly lovely this time of the year.“

„If you don‘t mind me asking, why did you call your realm Mirkwood? That’s not particularly attractive, is it?“

„I agree, but Black Forest was already taken.“

„I hope you are not afraid of heights.“

„Ehr… no… not at all… not in the least…“

„Good, for I must jump up and down now for a final stress test of this branch.“

Boingboingboing

„I can confirm that I am stressed, Thranduil!“

„The green hue of your face goes wonderfully well with the colour of the leaves, I just thought I mention it.“

„Ehr…“

„Good grief, Glorfindel! They have done it! And it looks perfect!“

„Fine, then they can leave now. The sooner, the better. ‚t is a long way back to Mirkwood…“

„Fin! We should at least ask them to stay for luncheon.“

„You are too kind, Master Erestor, but Bard and I have already planned a picknick.“

„Ehr… we have?“

„Yes. Namarië, and if you need any further assistance, call Celeborn.“

„Now about that picknick, Thranduil…“

„No need to thank me, Bard. Now, as we are finally alone, there is something I need to ask you…“

„Yes?“

„It is personal and of a delicate nature, though…“

„Yes? Yes!!!“

„Would you mind peeling the cherries?“

Those trees… those trees! Wahhh… well, at least this gave me the chance to do something for Barduil month. I do not write it, but I read it, and love all the wonderful tales and artwork out there. Thank you all for sharing. Have some cherries!

[raider-k]

King of the Forest

All Aboard the Party Elk

And he’s rocking that cape.

[anneangel]

When I try to explain why 'I love' and 'don't love' The Hobbit, trilogy and book:

Peter Jackson, screenwriters, Warner Bros executive directors: Do you like The Hobbit Trilogy?

Me: oh, yes. I love 90% of it. And the cast is wonderful and the soundtrack incredible. I love 'movie Smaug', and I find interesting that the dwarves gain more prominence than in the book, transforming them into more central characters in the plot.

Peter Jackson, screenwriters, WB: What are your criticisms about it?

Me: There are many good scenes from the original plot that were changed for the movie without need because were already good in the book, many tense scenes in the book were transformed into 'action scenes', such as the escape from the Misty Mountains, Mirkwood and the escape in the barrels. And why revive Azog when just Bolg would be enough? And you guys shit on the character Beorn. And, well, the name of the movies are 'The Hobbit', there should be more Bilbo in this, right?

Peter Jackson, screenwriters, WB: So you like the book that much?

Me: oh, yes, I love 95% of it.

Peter Jackson, screenwriters, WB: Do you even have something honest criticisms of book?

Me: well, there could be SOME female participation, and I could follow Gandalf's journey to the White Council and Dol Guldur, both happen, but in the plot of the book it 'll not be narrated to us because the focus is on Bilbo and only him. And Thranduil doesn't even have a name, he's just called the 'Elvenking' of the Forest, let alone his son Legolas. Radagast is underused and only mentioned once. I would like more to be 'narrated' than 'told' to us. Understand? More dialogues actually describing what they went through, and less summarizing as 'after much deliberation they decided', it's something told. Maybe if the book was more 'narrated' than 'told', then it would be much bigger than it is. Well, It would be interesting to see the narrative from more perspectives.

Peter Jackson, screenwriters, WB: but that's exactly what we try to deliver in the movies! We gave you Galadriel, Tauriel and gave you Bard's daughters, hey, there's your female representation. And we gave you the White Council and Dol Guldur, we gave you more Elrond, and Radagast and even Saruman. We even gave you a badass and handsome Thranduil and we even gave you Legolas. Fuck you, we even gave you Frodo!

Me: Correct. I like the fillers created for the trilogy, nothing against them, the intention was great, the actors play their characters very fine and everyone did wonders with what they had, truly cool, the problem is that I don't like the PLOT of the fillers. Only that.

Peter Jackson, screenwriters, WB: So, in your opinion, the problem is our bad writing plot for fillers?

Me: oh, that's right. Exactly. With the exception of this, everything else was very good.

Peter Jackson, screenwriters, WB: But you can't just blame us! Others also failed miserably in this production, right?

Me: Oh, but the costume designers did relatively fine, cinematographers and art directors too, with the exception of Beorn's design, everything else is tolerable. Even if it wasn't faithful to the book on some aspects, but that's why it's called 'adaptation'. Including the CGI was 'ok', which many complain about, but I think it's an excessive criticism because it's reasonable compared to other current Worldwide Box Office movies similar to The Hobbit Trilogy.

Peter Jackson, screenwriters, WB: So, for you, what really left something to be desired was the plot written of the fillers and plot of changed scenes? Is it?

Me: Oh, yeah. I wouldn't be so critical of the 'need' for to be three movies, if the filler plot and new scenes was better written. But hey, I still like a lot about The Hobbit, whether it's the book or the movies. For example, now just talking about The Hobbit makes me want to read my favorite parts of the book and watch my favorite parts of the trilogy! Haha! Understand now?

[purlty23]

okay now im genuinely curious which ghost songs you think are metal, actually no im genuinely curious about that document you mention…

SO GLAD YOU ASKED ANON. All I needed was one person willing to hear me out, here we go. I put band recs there too for fun

Disclaimer: this is my opinion. I do think its right but I also love each. And everyone. One. Of these albums. I know them by heart, I have learned many of them and still am learning them on guitar. I mean NOTHING BAD by these.

Opus: heavy metal  Very thick baselines, iconic metal strumming patterns, majority quick and aggressive songs. Dark themes. Tobias was just off of Repugnant and still writing very heavy songs. Holds the famed Ritual, known to be on the list as one of the most evil metal songs. Also the closest Ghost ever got to metal gallops Bands you might like if its your fav: Iron Maiden, Dio, In This Moment

Infetissumam: heavy + doom + funeral metal Those same heavy riffs now with the ‘brimestone’ sound that people like to associate with it. Lots of calliope and pipe (funeral) organ sounds. Very classic satanism themes, mixed with the trademark slow and gloomy doom metal tracks (If You Have Ghost EP veers into more classic rock territory sometimes) Bands you might like if its your fav: Candlemass, TOOL, Black Sabbath, 

Meliora: heavy + doom/gothic + rock heavy rhythm guitar with really good lead. Orchestral vocals and pipe organs, very reminiscent of catholic choirs.  The spotlight is on vocal range, backed by a lot of dark, heavy backing. Still with a hint of classic rock influence like AC/DC.  Bands you might like if its your fav: Powerwolf, Shadow Academy, Spiritbox

8 Inches: Psychedelic rock Duh. Its a take on rock music of the era. Mainly the psychedelic movement, hence the funky album art. Only put it here cause MOAC is their biggest song. Bands you probably like if its your fav: Jefferson Airplane, Black Sabbath, Deep Purple

Prequelle: heavy + fantasy metal  Almost half ballads, definitely more than half fantasy. Most songs have a whimsical feel thanks to wind instruments appearing. Still with the riffs that got them popular and the catchy choruses that Meliora introduced. Like Meliora, still some rock influence but only really obvious in Dance Macabre and Witch Image. Bands you might like if its your fav: Majestica, Elvenking, Orden Ogan

Impera: heavy metal + classic rock No one wants to hear this, no one wants to admit this but Impera absolutely draws inspo from the greats of both rock and metal: ACDC, Metallica, /Def Leppard/. I think it skirts along the line of rock and metal the same way Metallica does, but moreso in the valley of hard rock. Twenties and Griftwood is where you’ll find the heavy metal aspects. INCREDIBLY well done solos. The Griftwood solo made me buy a guitar ten years after stopping playing. Bands you might like if its your fav: Shadow Academy, Blue Oyster Cult, Foreigner

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 176- My Bloody Valentine

Summary: Josie sings a tune that falls upon astounded ears. Moose, The Elvenking and Thranduil battle. Josie fears she is losing her own battle. She and Lola have a heart to heart. Lola attempts to help. A spoonful of warlock magic makes the medicine go down. Rahl feels the wrath of his kin. A heroic act is foiled. Love is declared. Charles and Lola conspire. Another is missing. She-devil alert. Lola is down for the count. Rahl is too, for a hot mess of a moment. REDRUM!!! Rahl "shockingly" submits. Thranduil senses a sinister shift deep within his very soul.

*Chapter Warnings* BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD! Violent death depictions!!!! sexual and strong language, angst, mentions of rape,

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Josie returned to her chambers with tear swollen eyes and excessively panting after running from one end of the castle to the other without a moment of rest. As she opened the door, clutching her anxiety ridden chest, Lola sprung to her feet with worry. "Josie, where have you been? I need to tell you about...are...you alright? You've been crying."

"How perceptive of you." Josie snapped and made her way to Leean's cradle, peering down at her dreaming daughter.

"Would you like to talk about it? Is it because of Haldir?"

Josie's eyes rolled as she kicked her hated heels off and poured a glass of wine, offering none to Lola. "Do not speak to me of that exasperating elf. In fact, do not speak to me at all."

"I...I'm sorry, I...I just thought you should know I was told that Haldir left. To where, I do not know."

"Hmmph. Good riddance." she scoffed and knocked back her drink. "You can leave too."

"L...leave? But there is more that I need to tell y..."

"There is nothing more that I care to hear. I want to be alone with my daughter."

"Did...you find my fath....Darken Rahl? Is that what has you so upset?"

Josie sharply turned to her. "Have your ears gone deaf?? LEAVE."

"Y..yes miss." Lola squeaked and quickly departed.

Instantly, Josie tugged at the zipper of her dress and tore it off as if she were on fire. After slipping on new attire and touching up her tear streaked face, she returned to her daughter's cradle and sat upon the bed to view her once more. Besides Legolas, Leeanduil was the only way she could see Thranduil's face clearly.

It had been pointless in refreshing her makeup, for she was now in tears once more as she watched her six week old little girl sleep, frightened she would soon lose all the love she had left for her child and her King.

In desperation to stay in the moment with her feelings, she began to softly sob her way through a song of relevance that had strangely came to mind. Closing her eyes as she did so, she envisioned Thranduil holding Leean.

"Close your eyes, give me your hand. Darling, do you feel my heart beating? Do you understand? Do you feel the same? Am I only dreaming? Is this burning an eternal flame? I believe it's meant to be. Darling, I watch you when you are sleeping. You belong with me. Say my name. Sun shines through the rain. A whole life so lonely and then you come and ease the pain. I don't want to lose this feeling...."

Thranduil and his company had resumed their journey alongside the River Running after a brief rest, for the Elvenking strongly believed there was no rest for the wicked and each moment that passed on reclaiming what was his, his newly acquired impatience grew as did the blackness of his tainted heart.

As he traveled in silence and solitude atop his great elk at the lead of his elven army, he had nothing better to do than be inside his own head and in his relaxation, it opened a doorway he was ever so certain he had permanently secured.

What he heard earned his prompt attention and brought Moose to a screeching halt, for the elk had heard it too. The resounding angelic voice of his emotional Queen, just as he had heard her cries for help for months upon end before he had discovered her in his realm the night she escaped her abusive captor.

Thranduil's eyes widened as the breeze simultaneously washed her cherry essence all over him. What was happening? He did not permit nor want the intrusion and the Elvenking was about to terminate the connection, but the elk who adored the Queen, had other plans.

Launching up onto his hind legs, the beast reached for the tangerine sky with peddling hooves, bayed a raging roar of hot steam into the chilled December air. The faithful and loyal companion had never defied his elven master, but the stag knew of the malevolence that consumed the lost Ellon and he felt compelled to enforce the same protection that Thranduil would give him when needed.

"Moose! Dorth- cín near!" (Stay your place), Thranduil bellowed with command, struggling with the reigns to control the disobedient animal of substantial strength as Josephine's continuing tune fueled his rebellion.

His hooves heavily reconnected with the ground, stomping about and turning the Elvenking in circles as he vigorously huffed, bobbing and shaking his head until Thranduil, with great agility, swiftly dismounted and fearlessly stood beneath the steaming snout no one would dare approach.

Thranduil's moonstone eyes softly gazed into the largely round and moistened chocolate eyes of the normally gentle giant and placed his hand upon his lengthy snout, instantly calming him. This continued until Josephine's voice and scent dissipated into the wind.

Thranduil calmly spoke, offering words of comfort as he stroked the brawny beast. "I understand your pain old friend and I will not dismiss it because it is real. But keep in mind that pain causes weakness. There is a war ahead of us that must not be compromised by such emotion. You must find a place within you to contain it's existence."

In turn, Moose shared his telepathic thoughts to his master before bowing in submission for Thranduil to remount. "The true war lies somewhere within you. You must find that place and fight for what you love, for that is what's real. Do not dismiss nor underestimate your own suffering. Pain also causes strength."

Arching a bushy brow and clenching his jaw, Thranduil's stance stiffened as he lifted his chin, narrowing his eyes downward at the very wise and valiant old elk. "Undauntingly bold are you?" he snarled as his lip curled into a pleased grin. "From one King to another, I commend and respect your lion-hearted spirit."

As the journey carried on, Jareth's blood, paired with the power of the citrine ring, intensified the Elvenking's battle against the eternal flame burning in the shallow of Thranduil's very soul and Josephine's heartfelt song and own eternal flame had been an accelerant, much like the moonstones when united.

Anger now consumed the dark elf. Discreetly he held his breath, willing the flame into suffocation and soon, his bottom lip began to quiver and his eyes glistened of tears but it was not for lack of air, for elves could hold their breath for an inscrutable amount of time. It was because not even his will or his own magic was strong enough to fight the power of twin flames. The darkened Elvenking had once vowed he would never allow Josephine back into his heart after her prior invasions but Thranduil's pain was an underestimated strength just as Moose's percipience proved.

Strong and silent sobbing had now overtaken Josephine for she was fearful of when her moment of clarity would rescind. It was as if her tears temporarily cleansed the venom but she knew she could not cry forever and a knock upon the door ceased the waterworks altogether.

"Just a moment." she called out as she wiped her face and soaked up the tears from her eyes with a tissue.

"Who's there?' she whispered against the door.

"It's Lola, my lady. May I return?"

Feeling bad for how she treated her faithful friend, Josie opened the door and broke down once again at the sight of her.

Lola's loving arms quickly wrapped around her. "Please, come sit and tell me what ails you."

"It's...everything." Josie sniffled as they sat across from each other in the living quarters of the chamber to not wake Leean. "I'm losing myself Lola and everyone I love."

"You have not lost me? Nor your daughter. And Legolas is still here." she sweetly assured, still feeling the sting of the Prince's harsh 180.

"But for how long? I do not know how long I have until I am not me at all anymore and turn on everyone. Look what I've done to Haldir. He must be disgusted with me to have actually left. He was the only one who ever kept his promise to never leave me and Garrett...well...I get it now, why he left this time. He's ashamed of who he is. The dark side of him that he never wanted me to see. I guess that's why he chose to reunite with Kate and now that's what I am becoming. Rahl's venom is reeling me in and he...he was so cruel to me earlier."

"Of course he's cruel. He's a dark warlock lord. Wait...so you did see him?"

"His persona anyways. He..he carried Stephane's image because he was weak but..." Josie began to sob again. "But he's never coming back either. He's my only hope of being me again and I don't know how to revive him. He's as lost to Rahl as I am. My soul is turning black like his."

"Nonsense. You are a lady of light and if anything, you have the strongest love keeping you you right there in that cradle and you hold her father your heart. He will always be there if you seek him out."

"You are wrong Lola. He is gone. I haven't felt him in weeks. He doesn't come to me anymore. For a moment, I thought I had smelled him, even heard his voice in the garden this morning, but it was only the trickery of that evil Ravenna to weaken me and take my blood. Thranduil is only a memory now that's fading."

Lola took her hand. "I am so sorry. I cannot imagine a life without the man you truly love."

"Can't you?"

"I...I'm sorry?"

"Legolas. It is he you love is he not?"

Lola blushed, but her eyes saddened. "Josie...it does not matter. His love for you is quite obvious."

"And as you know, as does he, I do not return his love in the way he desires. His heart has been broken and my own heart breaks because of that. He now protects it. He keeps you at arms length not of his own wish but give him time. It is also obvious that he cares deeply for you. I've seen it. I feel you can mend his heart and restore his faith in love. And know this Lola...if anything is to ever happen to me, I have asked Legolas to be his sister's guardian. I would like it very much if you were to be at his side and I believe that will happen someday. I trust you with her life Lola."

"Josie...I...I do not know what to say. I would be honored. Of course I would look after her, guard her with my life but it will not be necessary, for nothing is going to happen to you and I am going to do my damnedest to see to it."

Lola hopped to her feet. "I will be back shortly."

"Lola?? What are you going to...."

Lola smiled as she opened the door. A smile that held a hint of wickedness. "Get some rest."

Rahl had refreshed himself out in the snow covered gardens, breathing in the fresh crisp air to void out the angelica leaves he had inhaled, but Stephane's bothersome image still remained. Regardless, he was feeling more of his wicked self, so he decided it was time to have a little fun. As he sat in the dining hall, sipping on some wicked whiskey with a wicked grin, he closed his eyes and mumbled. "Paybacks are a bitch like you."

A knock sounded upon Catherine's door. Fearing it was Charles or possibly even Rahl, she froze solid in her seat, hoping whomever it was would go away.

"Mother, are you in there? I really need to speak with you."

Catherine sighed in relief to hear her son Francis' voice and sprinted to the door, yanking him inside. "Francis, where on earth have you been?!! Darken Rahl has seized Stephane's body and he attacked your brother last night. His own son Francis!! Do you have any idea what he will do to us if he finds out you did not burn the real letter from Thranduil??? Stephane already despises you so I assure you that Rahl does too!"

"Mother, that is why I am here. I think you should sit down."

"You want me to sit?? At a time like this???"

"Mother....SIT DOWN!" the Lake Town King barked.

Practically jumping out of her skin at his clamored command, she did as he said.

"A..al..alright. I am sitting. There is no need to shout at me. It is not like you."

"I think he knows. I think...I have been poisoned."

"W..what did you say??"

At that very moment, tears of blood as red as her gown began to pour from Francis' eyes and as Catherine ran to him, he collapsed in her arms.

"Francis...FRANCIS!! SOMEBODY HELP!! HURRY!!!" she cried.

Her shill screams were heard by Francis' Queen and two servants who had been down the hall tending to the seam on Mary's gown and as they raced into the room, they were all quite dumbfounded at what they were witnessing.

"Mary!! Mary, your King has been poisoned. He's dying!!"

"What???" Mary frantically asked and scoured the room with her worried eyes only to see Catherine leaning over as if she were holding something, only there was nothing there. "Catherine, your son is in the city."

When Catherine looked back at her hands, they were empty. It was then that she believed she had just experienced a premonition.

"I...I have just had a vision."

Rahl opened his eyes and swallowed down the remaining whiskey in his goblet, then he smiled from ear to ear as he released a deep cackle. "Oh Catherine, indeed you did. Tick tock you wretched shrew. I am far from done with you."

As he rounded the corner, making his way back to his chambers, he almost collided with a fuming Lola.

"You!!" she screeched and belted him across the face with a hearty slap strong enough to impair his balance.

Seemingly thrilled by her bout of rage, he smiled. "Well now, if it isn't my long lost daughter...Lola."

"I am not YOUR daughter. I am Stephane's daughter you miserable excuse for a man!!"

"Oh but we are one in the same as everyone likes to debate against. Considering I have not seen you in well over a decade, what have I done to spark such madness, which by the way, I highly enjoy. Like father, like dau..."

"Oh shut up! I am nothing like you nor do I intend to be. Dare you really ask of your insidious indiscretions??? Shall we begin with my mother?? You defiled her!! You held her captive! You forced her to give up my sister Sarah and now she is in the clutches of another vile monster!"

"Josselyn is the only one at fault for what happened to your poor sister. If she had remained here, Harker would never have gotten his wolfy hold on her."

"You mean just like he got his wolfy hold upon me WHILE I was here???"

"Stephane is to blame for your disappearance, not I!"

"And Stephane is the one who saved me! Now give me back my father or I'll..."

"You'll....what? little...girllll. " Rahl snarled into her face.

Lola cringed at his peppery breath and fumbled through her words in fear, knowing that she had no magic power, or at least she didn't know how to use it if she had and it surely would have been no match for his. "Just give him back. Please. And leave Josie alone."

"Ahhhhh, so that's what your empty threat is really about. Sweet little Josephine. Even if I wanted to do something for her, I cannot, nor would I! Her soul is rotting and she will soon be mine and you my dear child. You will be next....and then Charles and Bash...I think you get the idea. One happy little family we all will be."

Emerging from the darkness of a stairwell, stood the Elvenprince with his arrow aimed at the dark lord of Dorwinion. "Over my dead body! Back away from the girl before I put another dose of poison into your arm!"

"Legolas!!" Lola shrieked with both happiness and fright.

Rahl's eyes slitted at the elf as he bravely stepped in front of the spiked iron threat, placing it against his chest. "You dare to raise your bow to me yet once again on my own lands. I should have ended you the first time. Your cat like stealth is admired but your skill is of no speed nor match for my magic."

It was faster than the speed of light and unseen to the eyes, the morphing of a man into the largest beast of a cat Lola and Legolas had ever witnessed and in a split second, the elf's bow was merely splinters on the ground, completely obliterated by the striking force of the prodigious paws and razor sharp claws.

As Lola's hysteric screams echoed through the hall, Legolas pulled his blade from the holster on his back, but that too was swiped away in an instant by the fierce strike of the panther's other powerful paw, then the ferocious feline pounced, pinning Legolas beneath it's suffocating weight.

Lola bolted to the knife, swiftly picking it up and clutching both hands around the handle, pointing it straight at the snarling snout before her. The mirror-like blade swayed and shook as she gasped through her hyperventilating breaths. Her gaping eyes fluttered out streams of tears that began to blind her vision.

"Lola! Back...away!!!" Legolas pointlessly pleaded as she became paralyzed with fear.

The monster sized head raised up as did the hair on the scruff of the beast's neck clear to the end of it's tail. Face to face, blazing yellow eyes glared directly into hers. The ears went back and a ghastly growl rolled up it's throat, then the mouth opened, revealing pearly fangs of death as a scorching roar laced of pepper blew Lola's hair straight out behind her.

She stumbled back from the force and the fear, dropping the weapon and before she could even regain her balance, she was suddenly reprimanded by one of many warlock guards and Rahl, still in Stephane's image, was standing before her once more.

"Seize him and take him to the dungeons to rot for an attempt on my life!" Rahl commanded.

"What about the girl?" a guard asked as Legolas was detained and his bloodied wrists chained while two other guards poked blades to his back.

It was apparent to Rahl that the two cared for one another and it sickened him to his core. "Leave her to me. Take him away."

As Legolas was promptly escorted away, Lola attempted to run after the Prince, but Rahl roughly clutched her arm. She screamed, cried and struggled something fierce but it was futile. "Nooooooo!!!!! Legolas!!! NOOO!!!! Let him go!!!! I....I love you Legolas!!!!!!"

Just as they were turning the corner, Legolas halted and glanced back in shock from her words. Their eyes shared an intense moment and then...he was gone.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" she cried again and dropped to her knees in defeat.

"Oh get up you whimpering fool." Rahl barked, scorned by her actions. "This is all your fault and now, your punishment will be to reap what you have sown. Go on. Go cry your little eyes out like the little girl that you are. You are an embarrassment and a disgrace. I will handle you later just as I have your mother!!"

"Wh...what??? What did you do to my mother!!!" she raged and lunged at him, only to be shoved back to the ground.

"Still, you do not learn. What am I to do with you?"

"Father!! Leave my sister alone!"

Rahl spun around to see the glowing eyes of his son Charles. "THIS again. I just want to go back to my chambers and have some fucking sex! Is that so much to ask??? It seems there was too much sparing of the rod and spoiling of the children in your upbringings, but who says you cannot teach adolescents new tricks?"

Raising his hand, an electrical bolt charged across the hall and knocked Charles onto his back.

"You're mad!!!" Lola shouted and ran to the boy she once crushed on as he had her before either knew of her paternal parentage.

"Damn right I am mad! Now both of you, get out of my sight!"

Lola helped a stunned but seemingly unscathed Charles to his feet and quickly, they both hurried off with Charles leading Lola back to Bash's chambers to check on his condition as he filled her in about his cat scratch fever. but when they arrived, their warlock uncle was also missing.

"Now what do we do Charles??? Who is going to help us?? My mother is missing too."

"I know. I have already searched high and low for her to heal Bash, but I fear it may be too late."

"We need to free Legolas! They took him to the dungeons!"

"Yes, I passed them in the halls and that is when I heard you screaming. He will be heavily guarded. There is no way for us to free him."

Lola thought for a moment as she nervously paced. "What about your powers?? You could trick them or something."

"I could...IF I wanted to risk the wrath of my father once more."

"Charles, you heard him. He is going to be...ummm... busy."

"And what about after? I've already used my powers upon his guards once when he was still himself and that did not go well. Now that he is the dark half, can you imagine how that will turn out? I am not strong enough to challenge him alone."

"It would seem you were more than capable last night in the forest?"

"Yes Lola, but I had a small army with me AND he was only temporarily defeated because I wounded him, which I did not enjoy doing. I will not hurt him again."

"I understand. I do not want to hurt him either. He's my father too."

"Yeah...that is still so weird." Charles added, feeling humiliated and even angry. "You and I grew up together and none of us were the wiser that we were siblings...wait...what about you Lola? Have you tried to see if you have any power? Surely you must."

"No...and if I do...I am by far clueless on how to use it. I believe you are right. You and I would still not be enough and even if we were...what would we do to stop his insanity?"

"We could...contain him maybe? Until we can figure out a way to bring my father back?"

"You mean, like trap him...in his own dungeons?? He will just use his power to free himself."

"Not if he is weakened. The bars are iron and so are the shackles. Look at him now. His image. He's still weak."

Lola chuckled. "Not that weak. You missed the part where he just transformed into the giant beast that attacked Bash....and..." Lola began to panic. "Oh my god, Charles! Legolas, he was...bleeding. What if he was scratched??? From my understanding, elves are not immune to poison. Look what Catherine did to Haldir!! We need to find the Marchwarden. He will help!"

"Lola...Haldir is gone and we do not know where to even look. It is dangerous out there with Harker lurking about and now Ravenna and the white witch as well, not to mention the dead that have risen. As far as what my mother did to Haldir, that was poison, not venom. Haldir told me once they are immune to vampire venom, so maybe it holds true for all venom?"

Lola began to cry. "Maybe isn't good enough! I have to help Legolas! I just have to!"

"Where's Josie??"

"Oh my...Charles, we need to tell her what's happened! Before she..."

Charles tilted his head at her pause. "Before she...what?"

"Before she too is not herself anymore, for then, she will be our enemy."

The Narcisse siblings raced back to Josie's chambers only to find that things had gone from bad to worse. The fiery redhead was unconscious and sprawled out on the floor and Leeanduil was crying in her crib.

"Josie! Wake up!" Lola shouted as she shook her shoulders. "Charles, she is burning with fever. The venom is spreading again. We need to get her into bed and one of us needs to go find a healer. There must be something they can do to at least slow it down."

Charles, although of a very slim build, scooped the Queen right up as if she were as light as a feather and placed her onto the bed. "I will go. You stay here with her and lock the door behind me. Let no one in. As far as I am concerned, no one can be trusted."

That was the last Lola had seen of her brother that day, which then had turned into night. Hours had passed and Josie was constantly tossing and turning, mumbling words that appeared to be of black magic incantations and her skin felt like it had been badly sunburned, but she was not feverish anymore or even sweating. Any attempt Lola made to place a cool wet cloth upon her forehead, Josie thrashed about and cursed her as if it holy water, which in a sense it was since it was that of the protected Mirkwood waters. The only thing left for Lola to do was pray.

She opened the sheer curtains adorned over the balcony doors to allow optimal absorption of the full moon's rays into Josie's body, believing it had healing properties for many ailments and then she pulled her rosary from her pocket and wrapped it in her folded hands, then proceeded to kneel beside the bed, making the sign of the cross. "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Hea..."

Lola froze and opened her eyes as the grandfather clock in the halls struck midnight. After the 12th chime, Josie became ominously still and then her eyes of moonstones also opened, but as she blinked and reopened them, they turned to eyes of pure coal like that of a crow.

"Josie?" Lola gasped as she tried to move away but Josie aburptly arose and grabbed the candlestick on the night stand, swinging it at Lola's head and knocking her out cold onto the floor.

Climbing out of the bed, Josie cocked her head downward at the bleeding girl and wickedly grinned. "She's gone."

(Viewer/Reader discretion below!!!)

In his birthday suit, an aggravated Rahl stroked his uncooperative cock at the bath's edge while an anxious Seppia, standing with her back turned to him at a small table, did not speak.

"Seppia, do tell me why I am doing the job you are paid to do?" he snapped as he yanked his hand away from his limp girth with disgust.

Her silence and reluctance to face him only made him believe she was possibly shy, nervous and inexperienced due to her youthfulness. Sighing heavily, he moved towards her.

She gulped as she felt him approaching from behind. Her skin crawled as his hot breath grazed her ear. "Surely you have done this before? My men told me you were rather eager for them to choose you over the others in line at the docks. I cannot imagine a virgin would wish to take all of this pleasure inside of her without any practice, unless....you're one who enjoys torturous pain. My dear, are you into masochism? I must say, I find pain to be quite an aphrodisiac."

"Cat got your tongue?" he purred into her ear. "You don't need to speak to use it, although I would not mind a few, strike that, many dirty nothings whispered into my ear. Either way, your duties will be carried forth. The cat will have more than your tongue this night. There is no backing out. Why don't you begin by massaging the heat pressed against your back?"

As his hands rested upon her bare shoulders, she instinctively flinched and jerked one shoulder away, overruling his unwelcomed advances. His ego and the cock he could not even raise repulsed her. Sadist pig, she thought as her heart raced and her pores perspired from rapidly increasing adrenaline.

"So you wish to play cat and mouse is it? How I do enjoy a challenge. Games are quite entertaining but after the day I have had, drawn out foreplay is not on my agenda. To be quite frank, your resistance is beginning to piss me off. I would highly advise in not doing such. It will not end well for you."

Through her teeth, she finally spoke. "Like it didn't for my mother when you slit her throat before her young son's very eyes??"

Against her stomach, Seppia had been gripping a large clay vase filled with water that contained a very high dose of witch deterring salt, undetectable to the nose unlike the fragrant angelica leaves she had used earlier that day to weaken him, but the sodium solution was still strong enough to stun a warlock where he stood and delay his reaction time long enough to kill him with the blade of silver she also harbored.

In the split second Rahl had to react, he was able to recount the truthful event as the memory of Alice, a past servant of many years ago and the boy of approximately 10 years old named Nikolas, flashed before him. The woman had indeed been executed by Darken Rahl's hand and sword, for she had betrayed him by aiding Josselyn and her grandfather Zeddicus in sneaking Josselyn's baby Isabella out of the castle.

Taking an instant step back, his brows furrowed and his eyes recklessly moved about as he then remembered the infant daughter Alice also had, but never knew her name.

Without further warning, Seppia spun around and swung the vase with immense force, smashing it against the side of his head. As the salt water washed over him, blinding his vision and incapacitating his magical abilities, the powerful blow had thrust him backwards against the raised stone ledge of the bath, rendering him momentarily incoherent.

"And now I will avenge the mother and brother you stole from me, you murderous monster!!!!" she screamed, then charged and mounted him, raising the blade she pulled from the garter around her thigh....but as she did so, a bone-breaking hand clutched her wrist.

The knife was then ripped from Seppia's hand as she too had no time to react and without hesitation, her throat was immediately slit wide open just as her mother's had been.

In a matter of seconds, the entire room reflected of red in the candlelight. A warm crimson fountain sprayed forth from Seppia's neck, thoroughly showering Rahl in the deathly hue he so favored above any other as she was pushed over his debilitated body and sent plunging into the sizeable vat of water, instantly turning it in to a pool of blood.

As Rahl found the strength to turn over and support himself upon the bath's edge, his mouth wide open and panting as he gasped for air, his blindness vanquished, allowing his gaping eyes to view the floating sight before him.

It was then he heard Josephine's chuckling voice as she sat beside him. "Blood bath anyone? It would pair nicely with Dorwinion's finest red vintage, don't you agree my bloody valentine?"

As he processed her words, Rahl gazed at the red rippling water and knew he would never look at his wicked wine the same again, although it most certainly would not stop him from indulging in it.

Realizing that Seppia's blood which covered him from head to toe had cleansed the stinging salt from his body, his strength promptly returned and slowly, he stood stood, glancing down at a very pleased grin forming upon Josephine's lips as her eyes devoured his bare backside.

"You...you saved my life." he humbly admitted, finally turning to her.

Now standing before his blood soaked form in an intentionally chosen long white gown with a scarlet overlay, Josie adjusted her disheveled, saturated breasts and sucked the staining body fluid from her index finger. "I did. And now, do you bloody believe in me? Pun intended."

Rahl was briefly silent as his thoughts continued to clear. "I...I believe that..." he sighed and lowered his eyes. "I want to believe it, more than you know but...I believe that you only saved me to save Stephane."

"You cannot be serious right now. I do not go around killing young girls, or anyone for that matter, especially with such ease, well except for Asher but the bastard had it coming. I do not know what else I can possibly do or say to..."

He decided to test her emotions. "What if I told you that I put the fear of Satan himself into my own daughter, the one you so adore and I had your beloved Legolas placed in my dungeons to rot for raising a weapon to me."

Her brow arched in curiosity. "Oh?" and then she grimaced and shrugged her shoulders. "Well then I guess the asinine, imbecilic elf boy should have learned his lesson the first time he did so."

Rahl was astonished. "Funny....that is exactly what... I told him."

"Also funny," she chuckled, "Speaking of Satan, I too had to put the fear of the Keeper into dear Lola. She was spewing her silly little prayers at my bedside while stupidly attempting to heal me with the light of the moon. Little did the dimwit know that it only fed my transformation. Anywhooo, I had to knock her out. The blasphemy was hurting my ears. Don't worry. She will only have a splitting headache when she awakens. I had to get out of there. I needed to find you. I could sense the danger you were in. I just knew that slut Seppia was up to no good. So, are we good now?? Have I passed with flying red colors?"

"I see." he simply said.

"You see? That's it?" she scoffed, "You STILL do not believe me?? What you see is me NOT running out of here in a panic to save Legolas like you were expecting me to."

"Can you truly blame me for my cynicism?"

"There's a corpse in your bath, so YES I can!! Earlier, you told me that actions were what you needed and I provided them to you on a silver fucking platter so to say! If that is not good enough, then....how about this???"

Josie grabbed his hand and an electrifying light show began in and around their united fingers. The charge was so powerful, so intense that each of their bodies visibly quaked. Simultaneously, they both sucked in orgasmic gasps and their laughs trembled through their smiles as they clung to each other, refusing to break free.

"D..do...y...you....r..remem...ber ...th...this..ss?" Josie asked, smiling as her words jumbled about by the pulsations.

Rhal's reaction was identical. "H...how...c..could..I...f...f...forget...the...f...first...t..ttttime...we...mmmmmet?? I...wasss....s...soo...t...turn...turned...on bbb..by the sh..shock."

"Are...y...you...nnow??"

"L...like...a...f...fuc..king...s...sunr...rise."

Josie broke the connection and pulled him against her. "I can tell that is not all that has risen."

"Meow." he purred. "She's just a devil woman with evil on her mind."

A cat's growl vibrated in Rhal's throat as she grinded her pelvis into his and then they were impulsively lip locked. Slowly, softly, passionately, their mouths moved together, disregarding the gore which blanketed them and soured the air and the putrescence of a slowly sinking Seppia.

The Mirkwood elves were now at the halfway point before the Celduin's joining to the Carnen and they stopped once more for a brief rest, for it had begun to rain. No rest was needed for the evil Elvenking, but he wanted his elven army well rested and fueled for the days to come, for it was approximately 2 days before his arrival in Dorwinion and 11 days before the winter soltice, the night Jareth's army of the dead would wreak havoc upon all of middle earth and the Goblin King would certainly single out Dorwinion for the winter war's commencement.

Feeling the pull of the misty moon, Thranduil, staff in hand, basked beneath the magical rays of twilight in solitude as the rain saturated his nightly altered image.

With all the was occurring, surely things felt amiss for the elf lord, but something more began to gnaw at his ghostly white skin. Something in the rain. Something in his staff that he gripped tightly as it dimly glowed an electric blue and then began to hum as an electric current crawled up his arm and shocked his blackened heart. Something had shifted. Something as dark as he had become.

With a slight gasp, his widened yellow eyes darted to the direction of Dorwionion as the "something" in the rain became a potent scent that overwhelmed his olfactory senses. As he inhaled deeply, his nose cringed and his jaw gritted with an envious rage, for it was the pheromones of his Queen that he was breathing in. An arousing aroma he knew all too well.

A decision was made in that moment. One he had vowed to never repeat again, yet he had found himself betraying his own commands on more than one occasion when it came to Josephine.

Bringing his hand forth that bore Jareth's ring, he caressed the citrine gem with his forefinger and as he did so, he made his demand. "Show me."

Within the stone, a golden mist swirled into a funnel and as it dissipated, a reprehensible vision emerged. An intimate embrace between what appeared to be a bloodied Lord Narcisse and Josephine, smiling and once again...kissing.

"No more!" he barked and twisted the ring to the underside of his finger. "No more indeed." he then spoke in a softer tone, but it held vengeance in it. "No one takes what belongs to me. Now I," he emphasized, "will take AND punish."

@redeemer46

[raider-k]

Thranduil is KING.

This is the only right answer.

I just wanted to let you know that Fanfiction subreddit was musing who the hottest character in the entirety of Tolkien fandom was and I adamantly defended Thranduil's honour. Because other options were ridiculous. Aragorn? Legolas? *shaking my head* Amateurs.

Well it's Reddit so they are wrong

Thranduil is the correct option for hotness

I absolutely accept Faramir for cuteness

But we all know who I would go home with 👀

[guardianofrivendell]

The Vault of Abandoned WIPS (1)

When in Mirkwood - part 2

This is the beginning of part 2 of When in Mirkwood, the real start of Tullaina and Fíli's love story. I've been struggling with this for ages, because I really wanted to capture the emotions and internal battles for both parties, and somehow I was never able to. Lots of writing, lots of deleting too. I haven't touched it in over a year, so I classified it as abandoned.

Later this week I'll post what was going to be a first chapter in a new modern Fili fic (which I've changed my mind about plotwise, so if I write it, it'll be entirely from scratch again, so in the Vault it goes).

The Elvenking’s Halls were vastly different from the halls of Erebor, Tullaina realized as she trudged behind the Elves who were leading them to the throne room. 

Last time she was here, she didn’t exactly have the time to admire her surroundings as she was sent straight to the dungeons. This time however, she was welcome so she let her eyes glide over the walls and ceilings with unabashed curiosity. 

Everything was built in complete harmony with nature by using lots of wood, tree-like structures and natural materials, whereas Erebor was mostly made out of stone and precious metals. There was a lot more light and a flowery smell hung heavily in the air.  If she hadn’t known Thranduil’s Halls were located in a cave, she could have sworn they were walking in the forest outside. 

And yet strangely enough, even though they were underground, Tullaina didn’t feel the same connection with the earth and stone as she did when walking around the mountain of Erebor. It made her slightly uncomfortable, as if she was going in blind. 

She quickly glanced at Fíli - who was walking next to her as the protocol prescribed - but he didn’t seem to be bothered by it. His gaze was fixed ahead in a thousand-yard stare, the fight they had the night before still lingering between them. If he noticed her looking at him, he paid her no mind. 

As soon as the Elven guards opened the doors to reveal the throne room, the sound of water clattering in the distance reached her ears, and it was like she’d run straight into a stone wall. The memories of the dungeons flooded her mind and overwhelmed her senses so suddenly, she had to stop herself from grabbing Fíli’s hand for support. If he noticed the twitch in her fingers, he didn’t say anything. By the pained look on his face, Fíli wasn’t doing any better than she was. 

The sound of running water came from the waterfalls below, she knew because it had been her one constant companion during her previous stay there. Tullaina did her best to tune it out, focusing on the floor below her feet, counting the steps of the Ellon in front of her, anything to block the sound, because if she didn’t, she would hear the cries of both the princes and Thorin again when they took her away. To that day she still couldn’t understand why King Thranduil felt the need to lock her in an entirely different part of the dungeons, away from the Company. Away from her family. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she recalled how desperate their cries were, full of fear and anguish. As soon as the guards separated her from the Company and steered her in a different direction, they started pleading and fighting against the Elven guards, anything to let her stay with them. But it was no use. 

She heard Fíli call her name even when she was far away and long out of their sight, his cries left as nothing but a faint whisper. Tullaina didn’t know if it had been her imagination but she swore she could hear him call her for hours after. 

She was pulled back from her memories when a warm hand wrapped around hers, squeezing lightly. Blue eyes studied her sorrowful expression, the deep lines around Fíli’s eyes and mouth proof that he too remembered. A faint nod silently asked her if she was okay, and it was in those moments she saw ‘her’ Fíli coming back to the surface.

[lady-of-imladris]

CHAPTER 9 - SOMEWHERE IN THE HAZE

Synopsis: Preparations for the imminent battle are made, but when they arrive at Dol Guldur, complications arise.

Word count: 2.1k

Pairings: Thranduil/OC

Warnings: Violence

Additional tags: it's getting angsty over here!

Link to the chapter overview

Lmao sorry I forgot to post this yesterday but what a lucky coincidence because I can now say: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @fenharel-enaste ! You live too far away for me to give you a physical gift so I dedicate this chapter to you my lovely friend <3

It turned into something bigger Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed Your finger on my hair pin triggers - The Great War (Taylor Swift)

The messengers from Imladris and Lothlorien returned fast and with news that was better than the King and Queen had dared to hope. Elrond, Celebrían, Celeborn and Galadriel were on their way. With their armies. Ana could have wept for joy that they would not need to face this threat alone. She had gone over their potential strategies again and again and again, consulting old maps of Amon Lanc, reports from scouting parties, reimmersing herself in battle strategies employed by their enemy. Thranduil was in awe. He had known for quite some time that his wife had been the mind behind some of their most successful assaults on Mordor during the Dagor Dagorlad, but seeing her in action was something entirely different.

The other four elven leaders arrived two days before the agreed-upon date of the attack for some last preparations. In Celebrían’s case, it entailed wrangling the twins, as well as Legolas, Elrond was examining the body of the elven soldier who had been turned into an orc and killed by Queen Anarríma. Celeborn, Galadriel, Ana and Thranduil busied themselves with the upcoming battle. The Lord of Lorien was beaming with pride. His daughter’s strategy was perfect. Their first evening together was celebrated with a family dinner full of laughter and joy. Legolas was beyond excited to have his cousins around and they spent the better part of the evening chasing each other around the halls.

The night before the battle looked different. Everyone was silent and withdrew to their private quarters immediately after dinner. Ana and Thranduil tucked Legolas into bed together that night, wanting to spend every last second with their son. “Nana, Ada?” the little elf asked hesitantly. “Yes, my little leaf?” The Queen sat down on the bed. “Why do you have to go?” Anarríma choked back her tears, and Thranduil sighed deeply. She felt his nails digging into her shoulders. He took over. “Ion-nin, that is a very complicated thing to explain, but we are doing this to protect our people. As King and Queen that is our duty. You will understand it one day.”

When Legolas had finally fallen asleep, Thranduil and Anarríma went to bed, lying next to each other, staring at the ceiling. Her hand found his. “Whatever happens tomorrow-” “Don’t.” Thranduil could not bear to hear it. They would outnumber the orcs. They would win. They had to. “Whatever happens tomorrow,” she tried again, “I love you.” “Please stop,” his voice was shaking. ‘Whatever happens tomorrow, I love you, my son.’ Those had been Oropher’s words the night before his death. The Elvenking was afraid. He could not bear to lose her. His Queen, his wife, the mother of his child.

Neither of them wanted to sleep, so they spent the night exchanging kisses and softly whispered words of love, chatting about entirely unimportant matters. It did not matter what they talked about, they just talked. Anarríma laid her head on her husband’s chest, letting Thranduil play with her hair and enjoying the vibrations of his chest caused by his voice as he told her of his childhood in Doriath, the first time he and Celeborn got drunk, of the day Celeborn first saw Galadriel and knew that he loved her, of Lúthien Tinúviel and her mortal lover, and many other things. In return, she told him about the few memories she had of Gondolin, of her happy childhood in Lorien, the time of the war against Sauron before they met and the battles they had never talked about before. The night passed too quickly.

They got up again before the sun had fully risen, eating a quick breakfast before getting ready for another war. Breakfast was quiet, no one knew what to say, so they just sat in uncomfortable silence. The Queen would have given anything to spend this morning with the soldiers instead. She found her mind going back to the mornings before important battles during the war against Sauron, sitting on the floor of a large tent together with her father and his soldiers, the tension so high it could have cut Mithril, until one of them, an elf who had fought in the War of Wrath made a joke. Anarríma could not recall the joke, but she would always remember the relief she felt when the tent filled with laughter. One look over at her father, who was sitting across from her told her that in his mind, he was there as well.

Fastening the straps of her bracers felt a bit like meeting an old friend and catching up, the Queen realized to her horror. She had not worn a full set of armour since the war. Thranduil was lounging comfortably on a chaise. She had promised to let him braid her hair for her and he was holding her to that promise. Ana smiled to herself as she sat down on the floor in front of him. Thranduil was horrible when it came to braiding hair. It always took him an insane amount of time and the braids often looked messy, even when he did it on her. With his own hair, the King was even more hopeless, hence he kept it loose. Anarríma winced slightly when his fingers tugged on a strand of hair a bit too harshly.

“Goheno nin,” Thranduil chuckled nervously, “and thank you. For putting up with me.” Ana reached up to put her hand on his thigh. “You are getting better at this. Give it another millennium or two.” The King grinned smugly. “Well, I think I did a pretty decent job this time.” Ana got up and walked to the mirror. Decent was an understatement. The two braids over her ears looked perfect and felt secure, as did the long fishtail braid he had created with the rest of her hair. “Thranduil!” Ana turned around and threw her arms around his neck. “How?” “I’ve been secretly practising on our son,” he admitted. Ana hid her laughter. “Thranduil, how could you? The poor child!” “Don’t worry,” he held up his hand in defence, “I bribed him with sweets and he was a very willing test subject.” Ana shook her head in disbelief. “We should finish getting dressed.”

“There’s one last thing missing,” Thranduil said, when Ana stood there, in her full armour, all her weapons secured. She looked at him expectantly as he set a box down on her vanity, taking off the lid to reveal the crown of dragon scales, gleaming in the candlelight like thousands of stars. “I killed a dragon for you, Ana. Let this serve as a reminder that whatever beast we encounter today, I will slay for you as well.” She bowed slightly, letting him put the crown on her head. Ana needn’t have bowed, Thranduil was much taller than her anyway, but at that moment, it felt right to bow to him. He might be her husband, but he was also her King.

Soldiers, servants and courtiers alike bowed and curtsied deeply as their King and Queen walked by, armed and ready for battle. Many had risen early to say their goodbyes, Celebrían among them. “I never understood how you can be comfortable in such a thing.” The Lady of Imladris gestured all over her sister’s ornate armour. Anarríma rolled her eyes. “It’s not designed for comfort, Brí, it’s supposed to protect me.” “By Eru, I hope it does,” Celebrían murmured and hugged her sister tightly.

“Shall we?” Galadriel and Celeborn emerged, armed to their teeth. Try as she might, the Lady of Imladris could not tell who of the four bore the most weapons, each of them carrying multiple blades openly. “Elrond is waiting outside already. Come back to me. All of you,” Celebrían instructed, hugging each of them for a moment longer than expected. “After all,” she continued, “my daughter will need her grandparents and aunt and uncle.” Ana could not believe it. Her sister was pregnant. Again. After a moment of shock, they congratulated her and Galadriel scolded her for dropping such big news on them when they were already running late, but Celebrían merely laughed and sent them off.

The armies advanced through the forest quietly and efficiently. It was almost muscle memory for all of them. Every single soldier who joined them had also fought in the Dagor Dagorlad. None had been keen to fight in another battle, but in the end, all of them had volunteered to keep their kingdoms safe. The journey was smooth and they effortlessly took out any orc scouting troops they came close to. Ana had predicted their general locations almost flawlessly. The armies got into position, surrounding Dol Guldur, remaining hidden in the trees. The King and Queen were no fools. They were well aware that the orcs knew of their coming. The only thing left to do was lure them out.

They looked every bit the warriors they were as they walked over the bridge. Thranduil offered Anarríma his arm as if he were escorting her to a ball. She gracefully accepted. They were halfway across the bridge when the enemy appeared before them. Three orcs, each looking more cruel than the other. “Do you have a death wish, elves?” one of them snarled. “We come to negotiate the terms of surrender,” Thranduil offered politely. The sound of laughter carried far into the forest. “Giving up your forest so easily, elfling?” Thranduil felt Ana’s grip on his arm tighten. His wife was angry. “Get out of this forest or by Eru, I swear we will destroy you.” Thranduil had never heard his wife speak like this. If he were the orc, he would run.

The orc grinned maliciously. “Do you really think we are not prepared? Do you really think we don’t know that you brought the Witch of Loríen and the Half-Elf with you? Maybe you should be the ones to run.” Thranduil shrugged. “I guess that concludes negotiations.” He raised his arm, signalling to his army. The three orcs fell to the ground, dead. The archers of Lasgalen were renowned for their skill. Their army advanced and the orcs started appearing out of nowhere. The King and Queen shared one last look before letting go of each other and drawing their swords. And then there was chaos.

Thranduil and Ana stayed together as long as possible but ended up being driven apart. Thranduil remained where the fighting was thickest, while Ana took her forces to more remote locations, watchtowers, dungeons, hidden passageways to try and drive the enemy towards them. She caught a glimpse of Thranduil when she looked out of a window, dead orcs littering the ground surrounding him. Galadriel and Celeborn had joined him. Galadriel met her daughter’s eyes for just a moment before refocusing her attention on the fighting.

Anarríma continued her raid of the ruins, rounding corner after corner at breakneck speed. She had reached the most remote part of Dol Guldur. The Queen was on her own now, she had left her soldiers behind to deal with the orcs. Something spurred her on, telling her to climb the tower. Her feet were moving of their own volition, carrying her up and up and up the winding staircase. The thought of returning to her soldiers crossed her mind, but was swiftly replaced by the compulsion to climb the stairs. As she walked by another window, she thought that she should go back outside and fight side by side with Thranduil, but when she was about to turn around and walk back down, she could not. Dread filled her entire body as she realized that there was only one way she could go. Up. She took a deep breath and walked up the last flight of stairs, sword clutched tightly and ready to strike as she entered the room at the top of the tower.

“Queen of Lasgalen,” a whisper arose around her. “At last, you have come to me.” She whipped around, trying to locate the source, but she was alone. Trap, it was a trap. She never should have come here. Ana sprinted towards the exit but was blocked by a wall of black smoke. “No escape. Not for you.” The voice was taunting her. “Show yourself, coward,” she demanded, willing her voice to be steady. “As you wish.” The black smoke took shape. It stood before there, towering over her, sword drawn, but Anarríma could feel that it did not need a blade. Whatever the being before her was, it could kill her with half a thought. It was merely toying with its prey.

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I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. I was sick for a while and I am still (supposed to be) working on my thesis 🙃

The good news is I have the next chapter mostly written because I felt that writing them in parallel might be a good idea for whatever reason. Thank you for putting up with me, ily <3

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[madwomansapologist]

Autumn Thunderstorm | Series Masterlist

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series synopsis: Thranduil thought the recent attack of spiders on a periphery village was the only thing deserving of his attention. If he could've imagined what he would found there, who he would found there, the Elvenking would wait a millenia in front of that river so he could see her sooner. Or: how Gandalf managed to keep a secret for 14 months.

warnings: female!reader. lotr kinda of violence. pre-Smaug. first meetings. age gap. pining. falling in love. love letters. true love. memory alteration. ice powers. elemental magics. trauma. attempt murder. blood and violence. swordfighting. near death experience. wargs. spiders. gandalf likes to keep secrests. saruman is a asshole. awesome galadriel.

first chapter: Thranduil traveled to a village that reported spider attacks with his army to protect those who need it, and accepted when a respected family offered their inn so his army could rest. He didn't expect to find a mage there. Or for the dam to break. [3K]

second chapter: Curious about last night's events, Thranduil dedicates his dawn to understanding who exactly you are. Accumulating questions and very few answers, you allow yourself to remember the past. Aerin, uncertain of your future, tries to make sure that you won’t be around to attract more attention to yourself. She should’ve known better than that. [4K]

third chapter: After being bitten by a warg, after almost dying, something changed. Something evolved. Things can't stay the same forever. You just didn't imagine they would change so fast. Or that Thranduil was as bad with goodbyes as you. [3K]

forth chapter: Letters are vessels capable of conveying so much. From the concern with survival, to the regret of having left. Letters speak of the most varied emotions, contain the most intrinsic truths, and are always written with someone in mind. It's a problem when that letter is read by the wrong person. But what can happens when it's read by right one? [3K]

fifth chapter: As the Enemy's actions became more and more clear, Thranduil discovers that there is a traitor among the free people. After an unexpected problem, you have to made a decision. [4K]

sixth chapter: It was a difficult choice, but Aerin made it for you. Now with nothing holding you back, you already had the answer Thranduil longed for: yes. Now your only concern is the anxiety about the reunion. [7K]

seventh chapter: Tomorrow came and became yesterday. In Woodland, you found more than just a roof over your head: you discovered a different way of living. And Thranduil also discovered something, a secret hidden by his own heart. [4K]

eigth chapter: A surprising invitation made you discover a different, incredible place hidden in Greenwood. You were glad that Thranduil showed you such a special place. But probably you were even more glad that he was there with you. [3K]

nineth chapter: Gandalf had his first good morning in ages. It ended as quickly as it started. [1K]

tenth chapter: As the world turned against Greenwood, Thranduil finally broke down. The broken pieces of his heart fell all over you. Would you ever be able to glue it back together? [2K]

eleventh chapter: Surrounded by pain and grief, Thranduil found himself willing to be something more simple than a king: he was just a man in love. [2K]

twelfth: Thranduil gave you his heart, knowing one day you will break it. It's past time you trust him too. [1.6K]

thirteenth: Watched over by Luthien and Beren, you two finally understand the nature of your love. [1.5K]

soon!

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[raider-k]

All aboard the party elk!! Let’s go!!!

Calling Team Thranduil..!

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