#f: lotr

[bladedhunter]

Starter for @shisui-uchiha-anon (LOTR verse)

It was time to visit Rivendell.

A journey he did not make often, Candaith's post being in the Lone Lands. But he crossed the Last Bridge, made it through the Trollshaws, and finally came to Rivendell, the last homely house of the east, the only place Candaith went to these days where he didn't have to worry about being hunted, attacked, or ambushed.

So it was a relief, though he worried about that which he left behind: mainly the people that would be unprotected during his journey here. But he had made sure to shoot down any crows that might have seen him leaving, and he had cleaned out a great deal of orcs before he had left, so... he hoped all would be fine.

Upon making it to the gates, he came across an elf heading in as well. One that didn't look like your typical Sindarin elf, more Noldorin, which was interesting to say the least, and high-born at that, perhaps. Candaith couldn't tell. Though--he hadn't spent as much time with elves as some of his other kin.

"Mae lovannen," he said, greeting the elf in Sindarin, formally.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Winter Gem

Thranduil x Female Elf Reader

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

Word Count: 1.8k

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

A/N: For @firelightinferno

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

“The first snows have arrived.”

“It has come early.”

Thranduil inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Indeed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

While tracking, he lost something precious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Found you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not dressed for this sort of weather.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I found you, my star.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perhaps I strayed too close,” you murmur.

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

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

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

“Thranduil—”

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

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

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

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

“Never.”

“Will you hold me?”

“For as long as you like.”

taglist:

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

[wakingupthetrees]

something about legolas makes me think he would have a really weird interest in sticks. new ones, old ones, ones off the floor or floating in rivers. he can tell you exactly what species of tree its from and maybe how long its been since the stick fell, and would probably know what they taste like. dont ask him how. he'll demonstrate

[faeriichaii]

hiii i have a request only if you're up for it! a legolas x reader and reader teases legolas and his sensitive ears during an important event and he takes it out on you (spicy? smut if you're up for it :)

love your fics sm <333

Keep Quiet ~ Legolas x F!Elf!Reader

A/N: OMG!! I kinda have been waiting for a smut request haha!! It's just I rarely write any smut so it is always nice to see someone request it cause this also makes me uhh idk get used to writing it?? But yeah I finally finished the request and I really hope you like it <33 I also might edit it later cause rn it is very late and I am very tired but I still wanna publish smth so... ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Smut (MDNI), Unprotected sex, Fingering, bj, ass slapping ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 2.0 k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: You seem to have teased your husband Legolas a little too long during one important meeting, so he teaches you a lesson.

Bored. You felt utterly bored, as you listened in on Lord Elronds conversation with Legolas father about some trading contract each of them approved. Being Legolas wife has it perks but you definitely despise the lengthy business meetings you have to attend. And your attendance is required regularly. As Thranduil once said, you are not just part of their family now, but also have to shoulder the burden of being the queen at some time in your lengthy life. Back then you smiled at the elven king and nodded. You didn’t expect to become queen anytime soon either. But neither did you expect him to get Legolas to drag you to every official meeting in Mirkwood. “It is good for you to learn all about our relationships with the several leaders of the various different lands.” Thranduil once said to you, after he caught you yawn after several hours of listening about potential war strategies.

A hand on your thigh justled you out of your memories. Legolas gave you a smile, as he leaned closer to you. “We are almost through Meleth Nin. Only an hour more and they should sign the papers.” Another hour? Sighing at his words you gave him a pained smile. Your eyes wandered from the elven king of Mirkwood towards Lord Elrond. You knew this would take even longer than that. How could you sit around and do nothing for another hour or two? “Legolas, would it be alright for your father if I could leave for a few minutes? Just to take a quick breather.” You whispered in his ear. His grip on your leg tightened and he began to shift around in his seat beside you. “Are you alright Meleth Nin?” “Of course I just-“ You raised an eyebrow at him. He definitely did not look quite alright. He looked rather… uncomfortable. “I don’t think my father would approve.”

Tilting your head to the side, you continued to study his side profile. A soft rosy colour dusted the tips of his ears, as well as his cheeks. Suddenly, realization dawned upon you. “Are you sure that is the reason behind you being so… skittish right now?” Your warm breath fanned over his pointy ear and you felt his body shiver, as you let your hand gently rest on his leg. Drawing circles on his thigh, you leaned closer towards him. “I don’t need a break anymore, so don’t worry about it my love.” The elven prince noticed the flirtatious undertone in your voice and gave you a warning glance. “(Y/N) please. You can’t do this to me right now. This is an important meeting and-“ A shuddered sigh left his lips, as your finger traced his ear with a feather light touch. “Hmm? Is everything alright darling?” You asked him sweetly, trying to scoot closer to your husband.

“Lord Elrond and your father are still discussing about the best travel route in order for the goods to arrive safely. The same topic since hours so why don’t you just lean back and let me have some fun hmm?” Legolas face turned towards you, his glare igniting a fire deep inside your core. He was mad. And you just got turned on. His hand grabbed your wrist and pulled it away from his ear. “You don’t want to continue playing this game (Y/N). Trust me.” A smirk graced your lips. “Is this a challenge Meleth Nin?”

Suddenly Legolas jumped up from his place at the table. Both of the lords turned their attention from the map at the table to the elven prince, confusion written upon both their faces. Even you were surprised. “Father, I must apologies, but I just remembered that me and my wife have another important event to attend to.” Thranduil looked his son up and down, before letting his gaze wander over you. You expected him to decline (probably due to the tension between you), but instead he approved. “Both of you shall leave, but make sure this… accident doesn’t happen a second time.” And with those parting words you were dragged out of the room by Legolas.

His grip on your wrist tightened as he sped across the hall towards your shared bedroom. “Legolas slow down I-“ “You want me to slow down? I bet you won’t say that again anytime soon.” Heat kissed your cheeks at the insinuation of his words. God you just wanted to tease him a bit but you definitely did not expect this outcome. Legolas stopped walking, just to open the door, drag you inside and lock it afterwards. His back was turned towards you. Watching his shoulders rise up and down you slowly approached him. “I told you to listen, didn’t I?” “Legolas I-“ Suddenly he spun around. “You didn’t listen though, did you now?” A shiver went down your spine at his deep voice. His gaze travelled from your face all over your body which made heat pool in your lower region. “You acted very poorly and improper for the future queen you know?” You nodded your head at his words. “I apologize my prince.” “You think that is enough to satisfy me?” He said, slowly approaching you. Legolas eyed you like a predator about to devour his pray. Oh, and how you would indulge in him devouring you. You need him. You want him.

“What can I do to make up for my mistakes?” “For one, how about I fill your pretty mouth.” Legolas stood in front of you, his finger grazing along your jaw. The touch alone set you ablaze like oil touching a flame. He tilted your face up towards him. “Does that sound good to you?” You nodded your head once more in approval. “Good.” And with that his mouth was upon yours. His mouth was hot and needy upon your own, tongues dancing with each other. A moan escaped your lips at the sweet relieve of the built-up tension. Legolas hand moved from your face to the back of your head to gather your hair in his fist. Pain spread from your scalp as he yanked your head bag by your strands, his mouth immediately trailing kisses along your exposed neck. Your hands racked over his upper body, unbuttoning his shirts and letting them fall off over his shoulders. Fingers trailing over his exposed skin, you followed every line and ridge of his body, until you stopped at his waistband.

“Get on your knees.” Legolas voice had a needy edge to it, as he began to gently shove you down, his hand never letting loose of your hair. Getting comfortable on the ground, you bit your lip at the obvious tent in his pants. Instantly you grabbed for his belt, loosened it and got rid of his trousers for him. “Open up.” Your mouth did as he ordered you to and in just a mere second his cock was between your lips. Sucking on it you watched his reaction through your eyelashes. His head was thrown back as soft pants escaped him. You let your tongue glide over his veins before pulling back and letting it slide over his slit. A hiss came from Legolas parted lips. His grip around your hair tightened. Suddenly, he pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, making you gag around him. Spit spilled out of the side of your mouth, as you tried to relax your throat in order to deepthroat his cock as much as possible. Your fingers moved from his hips towards your pussy, craving your own relieve. “Don’t you dare touch yourself.” Legolas said in-between pants. He moaned as a whine left your lips and sent a vibrating sensation through his lower region.

Pulling out, he grabbed your arms and lifted you from the ground. His hands found your chin, tilted your face towards his and gave you a kiss. His tongue fought with your own while he began to strip you out of the dress you wore for the meeting. Your nipples hardened under the cold air and he wasted no time in rolling them between his fingers. Your back arched at the pleasant feeling of finally feeling his touch upon you. His mouth moved from your lips down to your left tit. Your hands twisted in his long blonde hair, playing with the braids you did earlier today. Heat radiated from both of your bodies, as he let go of your nipple with a pop and stood up to his full height once more. “Now I want you to keep your mouth shut, okay?” An approval couldn’t even pass your lips, before you found yourself upon your bed, face down and ass up. “Show me how long you can keep your dirty lips sealed.”

A pleasant shiver went down your spine, as you felt his finger glide through your lips. Gripping the bedsheet, you turned your head to the side. “Legolas I need you please.” You whispered while glancing behind you. His finger brushed over your clit, making you bite your lip in order to keep quiet. You tried to scoot towards his hand, but his other hand kept your body down by your neck. “You already failed to keep quiet but you still want to get rewarded?” He slowly entered one of his fingers into your pussy but almost immediately retracted it. A needy whine passed your lips. “So greedy.” Legolas said, before entering two of his fingers and slowly pumping them at a steady pace. Your grip on the sheets tightened, as you tried to wriggle around his fingers. You want more. You need more. But you were in luck, because just after a few pumps, you could already feel the head of his cock at your entrance. “I want to see your pussy suck in my cock exactly how they greedily took in my fingers.”

And with that he pushed inside you. Your mouth opened to let out a silent moan, as you felt the stretch of his cock inside you. His hands gripped your hips harshly, before he began to move in a steady rhythm. It was hard to keep quite while his cock filled you to the brim, but neither would you want to lose his warmth inside of you. Pants mixed with the sound of skin slapping filled the quietness of the room. A moan escaped through your parted lips and was soon replaced with a surprised yelp, as you felt the harsh sting of a slap on your ass. “Your misbehaviour can’t stay unpunished now, can it?” You nodded in agreement with him. God how you loved getting punished by him. Meeting his hips halfway through each thrust, you felt the knot inside of you tighten, as well as the twitch of your husband’s cock inside of you.

“You take it so well Meleth Nin.” A sudden harsh thrust forced another moan out of your mouth, followed by another pleasant sting on your ass cheek. His hand gently traced over the red handprint. “I have a feeling that you almost like getting punished.” He let his finger trail down to your clit and drew gentle circles over it. Heat washed over your entire body, as you felt your climax approach faster and faster. Your walls clenched more tightly around his cock while the pressure of his finger on your clit increased. “Oh my god Legolas I-“ Another slap echoed through the room, followed by a whine from your lips, as the sweet relieve of your climax washed over you. Your walls clenching around his cock was all he needed, before filling you up with his cum. His release was followed by a few sloppy thrusts, before he pulled out, got onto the bed beside you and circled his arms around you in a warm embrace. A few minutes of purse silence passed between the both of you.

“Was it too much?” Legolas suddenly asked you. “No, of course not Meleth Nin. I might even consider teasing you more often during the meetings.” You reassured him, wrapping your own arms around him and falling asleep in his arms.

[cupidofcaravaggio]

[thewickedspinster]

Of Eternity (Thranduil x Reader)

pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader

synopsis: Thranduil and Y/N know each other from what seems like a past life; one that both would rather forget. Once secret lovers, hidden from the prying eyes of the Elvenking's court, the two elves' disagreements became too much, their opinions too divided. Y/N departed for Rivendell and sought shelter with her friend, Elrond. But when the Elvenking of Mirkwood comes to parlay with the Lord of Rivendell, he once again meets Y/N, and someone else who looks awfully familiar...

warnings: afab!Reader, pregnancy, elf children, war

Tathrenion = son of one willow-made

requested by @starlight5cat

Of Eternity

In Rivendell, the seasons turned as flowers bloomed; with a sudden burst of color against the greys of winter. They came and went quickly for elvenkind, rising and eddying like the tide, and with them came new wonders and sounds, new flavors. Song.

Y/N could hardly remember a time when her life was not dictated by these rhythms, when time was so magnified as to hear her own heartbeat, to watch the sunlight catch upon a dewdrop. Though, it was not so long ago she was in a place where seasons hardly touched, where time stood still and light lingered in honeyed moments. Where her breath raced in her body, and youth stretched into eternity. Where naïveté was all too familiar.

Here, she had more responsibility. Here, she was unequivocally welcome. When she had fled the confines of her life before in Mirkwood, where she had been daughter of a Ñoldor house descended from Fingolfin, and gone westward into the Misty Mountains, she had only hoped her old friend, Elrond, would grant her sanctuary. He welcomed her with open arms. Here, she sat on his council of advisors. Here, life was warm and full of light once more.

For a short time of twenty-odd years, there was peace east of the Misty Mountains. Though her cousin Galadriel could not believe it, it had appeared the dark servant of Morgoth named Sauron had been vanquished. The grey elves lived in peace with the sons of Durin and helped the wayward man, but kept to their forests and their mountains. All had seemed well, and with the protection of the haven of Rivendell, the darkness of old seemed unable to touch her.

Such comforts cannot last. Not so long as Morgoth and his fell creations plagued Arda.

As soon as word reached Rivendell of a darkness fallen upon southern Mirkwood, Elrond sought Y/N's counsel.

"You know the eastern forests well," Elrond said softly, guiding them both down towards the river. Water fell in a gentle curtain of silver ahead, glinting in the moonlight. "What sort of evil could cause these things?"

The pair ducked behind the waterfall, and the sound of rushing water hushed their voices. There hidden was an alcove, large enough for a small group, with cushions surrounding the burnt-out embers of a fire. Elrond had come here often in the early days of ruling Rivendell, and when Y/N had arrived, had brought her here in her most vulnerable moments.

"The Elvenking's Halls are to the north, but in my many wanderings, I went south," she answered, settling on the floor alongside Elrond. "Mirkwood is vast and its creatures untold, but I have never seen anything that would produce this sort of rot."

Elrond hummed, deep in thought. Elven and human messengers alike had been passing along rumors of dark creatures in the southern Mirkwood, things that walked on more than four legs, with slavering maws and the stench of evil surrounding them. Elves who more often ventured south returned with harrowing stories of voices, of song coming from the dark trees. The canopies had grown so thick that sunlight hardly reached the ground. Some had even reported sightings of Orcs.

"You know what this means," Y/N said, interrupting Elrond's reverie. "Galadriel was right. She was always right. We cannot know that Sauron is vanquished. We burned no body. Isildur brought no head. Only the Silmaril."

"There are no credible rumors of Morgoth's creatures, Y/N."

"There are," she insisted. "They have started calling this force 'The Necromancer.' This is no coincidence, Elrond. All evil in these lands comes back to Sauron. To Morgoth. So long as their discord remains, none of the children of Eru are safe."

Beyond his red head, with his noble face, the silvered water fell in sheets, dulling to a gentle sheaving. Waiting. When he raised his gaze, he said, "What would you have me do?"

Galadriel would have them go to war. Though she had grown less brash since the last age, she had grown no less desperate for Sauron's defeat. But Rivendell was a haven, a place of peace for wandering elves. She could not see amassing forces and marching to Mirkwood unaided. Besides, it was not Elrond's territory to march on.

"You know exactly what you must do, my friend," she said at last.

"You do not like him."

"What of it?"

"He is the reason you fled your home."

It was true enough, though it still gave Y/N pause. Mirkwood had been a home for long centuries, it was true. But before that, she had known the lushness of Beleriand, and the glory of Númenor. She would always be a wanderer. But the Elvenking of Mirkwood brought with him memories too fresh to be painless.

"He is the lord of Mirkwood, and should you wish to do anything at all about this rising evil, you must first confer with him," she said firmly. "Invite him here. Invite his entire court. They will leave Prince Legolas to guard the north, but Thranduil will come."

"I would have you by my side upon his reception."

Y/N caught the glimmer of ancient mischief in Elrond's eyes, and offered him a faint smile in return. "It would be an honor."

~~~

Word came within a fortnight that the Elvenking's party would embark on the Elf-path by the full moon. This gave the people of Rivendell little time to prepare, but showed Elrond and his council how dire circumstances were in Mirkwood.

As Y/N stood at Elrond's side on the dais before the sweeping steps to the city, she knew that in this matter, as all others, that Thranduil would be stubborn, cunning, and seemingly omniscient. It was in his power as king to appear so to his people. But Y/N, he could not fool. She and Elrond would simply need maneuver with tact, to force Thranduil into showing his hand.

In the distance, the royal traveling party rounded a bend and came into view, the Elvenking in his raiment of grey and silver astride his great antlered steed. From here, Y/N could feel his piercing gaze upon them, focusing on her at the Lord of Rivendell's side. Robed in rich, dark green against Elrond's golden raiment, Y/N stood tall. A circlet of gold sat upon her brow, and in it, an opal enshrined. Befitting of her station, she stood to Elrond's left, his wife Celebrían to his right.

Y/N had known true fear in the face of evil, yet facing the Elvenking of Mirkwood after these twenty years turned her chest cold. She could never fear him - she knew him too well, but that was just the problem. They shared a deep past of friendship, of love, forbidden though it may have been. And pain, at the last. Since their parting, she had, for the first time, lived many secrets that she kept from him still.

The party finally arrived at the dais, the great reindeer's feet clapping against the stone as thunder. The Elvenking dismounted, stepped before Elrond, and inclined his head.

"Lord Elrond of Rivendell, you honor me with your great hospitality," he said formally, the Sindarin tongue rolling like quicksilver from his mouth. "And Lady Celebrían, thank you for welcoming my host into your household."

Elrond, Y/N, and the council assembled bowed to the king.

"We are pleased you answered our invitation," Elrond replied, his tone, as ever, one of deliberate lightness, as if he knew something no one else did. "How long shall you stay?"

"A week," Thranduil said shortly. Finally, finally, his silvered eyes shifted to Y/N. She breathed in deeply. "There are matters to attend to in Mirkwood."

"I do hope Prince Legolas is well," she said softly, smoothly.

Thranduil looked momentarily surprised she'd spoken, his eyebrows drawing together at the sound of her voice. "He is taking to his responsibilities well."

A moment of silence passed. The river roared below. Then, Celebrían was taking gesturing towards the king, leading him away into the great wood house of Rivendell.

Formal greetings complete, the rest of the crowd quickly dispersed, and elves moved swiftly in preparation for the feast prepared in the king's honor. Soon, only Elrond and Y/N remained. She watched the sun setting over the vale, eyes fixed on the rushing waters surrounding.

"Will you tell him?" Elrond asked, voice so quiet only she could hear.

"How could I?" Y/N whispered. She felt her fingers tremble.

"It is unfair to -"

"You shall not tell me what is fair or unfair, Elrond," Y/N whirled, suddenly furious. "You know not what it is to have my fears."

Elrond held up his hands. "I only wish to say that truths are better spoken. Deception is the chaos-sower."

"It will put him in danger."

"It will give him power."

"A curse," she hissed. "A bounty upon his head."

"Or a crown."

She stared at her friend, stunned. "You do not mean that."

Elrond only watched her in return.

With no words left between them, Y/N turned and disappeared into the house, bracing herself for the week to come.

~~~

It was the fourth day of the accursed sessions of counsel, and Thranduil had still not admitted there being any disturbance in Mirkwood. He spoke on matters of trade, of agriculture, of relations with Khazad-Dûn, but nothing of the murmurs from the Sutherlands.

Y/N was beginning to lose her patience.

Elrond, blessedly, had more of it to spare. Ever the diplomat, he listened to Thranduil's concerns and complaints of their relations, and constructed plans to fix them. Ever the master of compromise, he kept Rivendell's secrecy and best interests at heard. Ever the more patient of the two, he kept prodding the Elvenking towards revealing his secrets, to no avail.

Y/N sat, posture relaxed, around the dais at the center of Elrond's pubic chambers. The elves around her deliberated, debated, while she kept her mouth closed. As Elrond's chief advisor, her primary duty was to listen. She interjected when Elrond looked to her, and when someone said something entirely ludicrous. Elves tended to take a laboriously long time to come to any sort of agreement in politics, and were reasonable to the point of boredom. Y/N's engagement had thus far been minimal, though she heard all.

They had turned to the topic of weapons, and of Rivendell's protection. They were inching closer to the topic at hand, but she knew Thranduil had a deep well of patience, particularly when it came to dealing with elves. The high noon sun blazed down on the white marble.

"How have you fared in the training of your ranks?" Thranduil inquired, sipping at a goblet of honeywine.

"The archers excel, under the tutelage of Sindarin masters," Elrond said. "The swordsmen, under that of the Ñoldor. Khazad-Dûn has agreed to provide us with weapon designs, and with materials to forge them. Durin is all too happy to help an old friend."

Thranduil scoffed lightly into his cup. "Old friend, indeed."

Y/N sat up straighter at the tone, the scoff. She had heard it many times. "Prince Durin has provided us with an excellent relationship over the years. He is a close friend to Rivendell."

Thranduil looked at her, through her, in her. Before her mind's eye flashed his face, poised over her, abed. Soft candlelight shone from beyond his features, and his face was softened into the loveliest of smiles. Gone in an instant.

Just then, lithe footsteps from just inside, and bursting from behind the curtains came three elven children, small and laughing. A maid reached out, trying to snatch them by their tunics, but too late. They sprinted into the circle, and straight up to Elrond.

"Father, we would like to go the Gates," one boy panted. Elrohir.

"Apologies, Father," the other interjected, suddenly serious. Elladan, his twin. "I told him not to come."

"Our swordmaster is at the Gates, and asked us to join him," the third explained. Y/N sat forward, staring down at the boys.

"Tathrenion," she said severely, hiding the quake to her voice, "you know not to enter this chamber when Lord Elrond is taking counsel."

The third boy, unlike the other two, with (Y/HC) hair and striking grey eyes, paled, bowing to Y/N. Even when he straightened, he kept his eyes averted. "Forgive me, Mother. Elladan and Elrohir wished to go, and I wished to accompany them."

It was only then, as the boys turned to glance around at the present company, that Elrond spoke.

"You are in the presence of Thranduil, Elvenking of Mirkwood."

Shuffling, with a soft gasp from Elrohir, the three boys bowed low to the king. Thranduil said nothing for a moment. Instead of on the children, his eyes were pinned on Y/N, wide with unbridled shock. When he finally did look at the boys, at the one called Tathrenion, he found his own eyes staring back, steady and calm.

Thranduil stood abruptly, setting down his goblet. He opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "We shall eat. Elrond, you shall decide what to do with your sons."

He swept off the dais, out of view, and Y/N was left staring at the spot he once occupied.

"Go after him," Elrond murmured to her, leaning close.

"Tathrenion-"

"Leave the child to me." And an unspoken promise to keep her son safe.

Y/N was up in an instant, following in Thranduil's wake as quickly as possible. But he was moving fast, and kept dodging out of sight, around corners that he did not know. Servants moved out of the way as Y/N passed through an adjoining kitchen at a sprint, intercepting Thranduil as he rounded the corner into the next room.

She caught him by his elbow as he tried to pull from her grasp, but she held firm.

"Thranduil," she said. "Stop. Just... Stop. And listen."

His rage made his jaw tight, his brows drawn low. "I will not stand here and listen to you when you have -"

"I had to leave," she interrupted, holding his gaze unflinchingly. "I could not be your concubine, Thranduil. I would not."

He scoffed, that same sound he made when he thought someone foolish. Beneath him. It hadn't started this way, but as they fell deeper into each other, he'd started scoffing at her the same way. It was part of what drove Y/N away from Mirkwood. "You were not a concubine, Y/N."

"Then tell me what I was to you."

Thranduil bent lower, so their faces were inches apart. "You know exactly what you were to me."

"I know that I was not your wife." And that was venom in her tone, sour and deadly.

A shadow passed over his features. "You were everything she was not."

"And that makes me whore to a king."

"You have never been a whore!" He shouted.

The surrounding house went quiet. Y/N trembled, fingertips numb.

"Tathrenion is your son," she said lowly, practically hissing into his mouth. "Your son, Thranduil. Our place in Rivendell is of your doing. You never recognized what it was to be in my place, with no guarantee of my safety in your court."

"I always would have protected the both of you."

Tears gathered in her eyes. "Our love felt increasingly fragile. I doubted that it even existed any longer. Had we been found out, I doubted you would protect me from exile."

Thranduil was quiet. The house had moved on from his sharp outburst, exhaling as his anger passed. Y/N's grip loosened on his tunic, her truth spoken. But her touch lingered.

"Did you know?" He murmured hoarsely.

"Not when I left your halls. Not until I reached the Misty Mountains."

"And all... went well? With the birth?"

Elven births were rare, and dangerous for mother and child. "Blessedly, Elrond's midwives and healers some of the most gifted, and I healed swiftly. He was born squalling."

He loosed a soft breath, and some of the tension left his features. He had always been beautiful, but it was when he was away from prying eyes that he truly became ethereal. Radiant. Himself.

"You should always have been in Mirkwood, with me." She just looked up at him. "I am sorry, my Y/N. I never meant to make you afraid."

"It is safer for both of us away from you and Legolas."

Thranduil snorted. "My son has proven impertinent. And lacking the character to succeed me."

"He will mature," she said softly. "He is young still."

"He will have to fight soon."

"Then this Necromancer..."

"Is a threat. Whatever darkness lurks in the south of my lands, it is dangerous and spreading."

"Tell Elrond," she urged. "He wishes to aid any fight against Morgoth's darkness in these lands."

"My forces are strong."

"They will be stronger with Rivendell's. Don't let your pride cloud your judgement."

At that, a small smile graced his mouth. "That has always been your advice for me."

"It will always stand. Unless you change."

"Would you come home?"

The question surprised her. "You would have us? So soon after the death of your wife?"

"I would have your company," he said. "And I would have my son raised by the both of us."

Y/N did not have an answer, and she was about to say as much when a smaller voice said, "I would like to go to Mirkwood."

Y/N whipped around, and found young Tathrenion standing behind them. She took a large step away from Thranduil, then lowered herself to her son's level, steeling herself.

"What did Lord Elrond tell you and the twins?" She asked.

"He said we may go to the Gates, but I decided to stay behind." Tathrenion peered past Y/N, to the Elvenking. "I wished to speak with you."

Thranduil could hardly stomach looking at his son's face, the very reflection of his own, untouched by age yet full of a strange wisdom. "Speak, child."

"I know little of why my mother left your kingdom, but I know she has done everything since for my sake. Please, do not ply her with false hopes. If you invite us to Mirkwood, you pledge to keep her safe."

"And you," Thranduil answered immediately. "I will protect you both, and welcome you into my household in places of honor."

Y/N was speechless, her throat swollen around pride for her young son.

"I know you not, Your Majesty, but I would like to," said Tathrenion simply.

Thranduil smiled.

Y/N sent him on his way, leaving her alone once again with the Elvenking. This time, he reached out to her, and against logic, she stepped into him, leaning into his fingers upon her cheek. She had longed for his touch, his kiss, his steadfastness ever since she left the forest. Leaving Mirkwood had been one of the hardest decisions of her long life.

"Let us think about this," she whispered. "And let these diplomatic matters be done first. Speak to Elrond in earnest."

"I will wait for your return to my side, Y/N," he murmured. "I have been waiting since the moment you left."

~~~

Dappled sunlight shone down upon the glade, lighting the page Y/N read. It was a letter, signed in Elrond's familiar hand, detailing the phalanxes marching towards Mirkwood. They would join Thranduil's army in patrolling for evil in the south, just as they had hoped.

Amongst the trees, a young boy laughed, and an older one hollered. Legolas was nearly fully mature, but had taken to playing with his younger half-brother in earnest. Together, they romped through the forest, and Tathrenion adored having someone elder to look up to and learn from. He excelled in archery, now, thanks to Legolas's tutelage.

A hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her backwards, and she fell upon Thranduil's chest. He was stretched upon the grass, feline at ease. She luxuriated in the feel of his body against hers, in his fingers in her unbound hair. In his mouth, pressed to her shoulder.

She had refused to take him to bed since her return, but she had begun to let him back into her heart. He had honored his word, and the loss of his wife had left him in need of comfort, in need of counsel and a tender hand.

Besides that, over honeywine in the candlelight one night in Rivendell, he had finally told her he loved her. Words were the playthings of elves, and though they meant little to some, they meant everything to Y/N. She opened up visions of the future that had ere been clouded.

"Of what do you think, my love?" Thranduil breathed against her skin.

She came back to the dampness of the grass beneath them, the golden green of the canopy above, the laughter of her son in the distance. The warmth of her king at her back.

She smiled. "Eternity."

[ydreamfairy]

MINE

Requested by: my brain 🧠

I’ve had this floating around in my drafts for forever. Does it make sense? no. Does Thranduil have fangs? no?

She hadn't meant for him to see.

The moonlight cast silver lines across her bare shoulder. She stood in the glade with another, one who was not her king, the ghost of his lips on her skin. There was no love in it. She didn’t even know his name. It was a distraction. A futile attempt to quiet the ache Thranduil had carved into her soul. She had not accepted his claim, not fully, not yet. And so in her mind, she was free.

But the Elvenking did not share that belief.

He stepped from the shadows with silent fury. A storm long held at bay. Eyes like winter frost bore into her, past her defences, past her shame to the truth she refused to name. The other elf was long forgotten, vanishing into the trees without a sound. Desperate to escape Thranduil’s withering gaze. She stood frozen, heart pounding and lips parted in some half-formed excuse she would never finish.

"You are mine" he growled, voice low and trembling with restrained wrath.

Before she could reply, his hands were on her, rough and trembling, with anger and something deeper. His mouth found the curve of her neck.

Pain.

Pleasure.

A gasp ripped from her throat as his fangs sank into her skin, anchoring her to him with a bond older than words. He drank her in, her blood, her essence. He consumed her denial, her confusion and her stubborn refusal to surrender.

“You belong to me," he whispered against her skin, lips brushing the mark he'd left. "And now the world will know it.”

[halfelven]

was walking around my room brushing my hair when i was suddenly beset with images of legolas brushing and braiding his hair while walking with the fellowship. casually getting his 300 strokes in while keeping pace with the company, spending a couple hours of each day’s trek doing up his hair

[specificpollsaboutbooks]

F/M Couples

Round 3

Faramir and Eowyn :

"I'm a big fan of ships that subvert expectations, and this is a beautiful example. We never could have seen it coming, and it doesn't get much page time, but somehow it just makes perfect sense."

Vimes and Sybil :

"She raises dragons; he sets traps for assassins and always arrives home in time to read to his son. What's not to love?"

[belanor]

36 Samwise Gamgee (The Lord of the Rings) icons (requested by anonymous).

200x200 px.

Please like/reblog if using.

Some icons under the cut, you can find the rest of them on my icon page.

More HERE.

[conversacomsmaug]

I'd like something like Haldir and Thranduil meeting you (Reader) in Rivendell (each there for business or political reasons) and then the lovesickness striking them. They'd start an unfriendly dispute for the right to court you, giving Elrond a major headache.

Please, any willing writers?!?

--------------------

Eu gostaria de algo como Haldir e Thranduil te conhecerem em Rivendell (cada um lá por motivos de negócios ou políticos) e então a doença do amor atingi-los. Eles começariam uma disputa nada amigável para o direito de cortejá-la dando uma grande dor de cabeça à Elrond.

Por favor! Algum escritor disposto?!?

[kronkys-f-art]

Legolas and Gimli expression sheet!!

Another part of my Character and BG Design exam! I really love how my project is turning out. Now I'm moving to the backgrounds... I'm scared of backgrounds.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Flower Crown

Aragorn x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, light angst, kissing, non-descriptive intimacy

Word Count: 2k

During a spring festival, the man you love returns unexpectedly.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // spring 2024 masterlist

The sky is a cloudless, endless ocean above your head.

You breathe deep, savoring the scents in the air. Newly bloomed flowers, freshly baked bread, and roasting chicken all infiltrate your nostrils, reminding of you the celebration that’s about to begin. Anticipation buzzes under your skin like a swarm of startled bees. You’ve been waiting for this all winter. Spring is finally here, knocking, ready to be greeted. The flowers are in full bloom, and the trees have awakened from their solemn slumber.

Every year the small village in which you’ve lived your whole life celebrates the changing of the seasons. A community-wide festival is held. Each person is involved in their own way, and the duties are often assigned at the beginning of winter to allow everyone to prepare. Sometimes, these responsibilities shift, but a few remain the same.

Last year, you attended the baker in their duties to provide baked goods. This year, you were tasked with sewing new dresses for all the unmarried young women. The base fabric, an off-white cotton, remains the same. It’s like a blank page awaiting colorful paint or black ink, each dress ready to be designed with every young woman in mind. You, and several of the married women, take great care in personalizing each dress to the young ladies’ personalities.

It is not by chance that this happens. It is more than tradition. Rebirth and renewal are the themes of the festival, and with that comes an influx of weddings. The dresses are for that very reason, as a form of matchmaking, along with the presented flower crowns and the festival itself. You’ve always thought it silly but never truly commented on the matter. Fortunately, with you on sewing duties, you were able to work on your own dress.

With the dresses come flower crowns. They are given to the young women by unmarried men of the village. It is always the married women and village elders who quietly determine which man will gift what crown to who. They’re intuition is almost always correct. It is rare for a pair to not eventually marry. Sometimes it is quick, and sometimes it is years later before either realizes they belong together.

And the flower crowns are the true beauty. Another group handmakes each one. But because you know how intricate they are, you did nothing for your dress. It is simple. Plain. Just because you’re forced to be part of this tradition doesn’t mean you want to try and find a husband. You’re perfectly fine alone, because the man you do want is far away.

He isn’t avoiding you. Not on purpose. Aragorn is a ranger. He thrives in the wilds, seeking out the darkness to rid it from the world. But you do miss your wanderer. He tries to travel through your area as often as he can just to see you.

Over the years, the friendliness has grown, becoming heat and tension.

None of the other men in the village make you feel the way he does, and they likely never will.

In the shade of a tree, you smooth out the front of your dress. The tips of your fingers itch and you need to move them just to calm yourself. That alone is silly. What do you have to be nervous for? The process is always the same, always consistent, so why do you feel like this?

The young, unmarried women begin to congregate near the arch of flowers. Breathing deep, you march forward, finding your spot where it always is. You can taste the eagerness in the air. The women around you are just as nervous, nearly bouncing on their toes. They whisper to each other, giggling, but none of them glance your way or address you.

All day, and not even one has thanked you for your work.

But you won’t let it eat away at your resolve. Today is a good day. You’ll drink berry wine and gorge yourself on delicious food while listening to the married women gossip about their husbands.

As the village elders arrive, all talking ceases. That is the cue, and just like the women in line, you curtesy. You’re not allowed to look up, to glance into the face of the man who will place a crown upon your head. You keep your head bent and gaze on the ground.

There is shuffling, the rustling of hands lifting crowns. You focus on the green grass beneath your feet. You’re the only one up here not wearing shoes. You breathe in, and out, watching as so many pairs of polished boots pass by.

When someone does stop before you, the boots are not clean. They are muddy and have seen travel. You almost want to laugh but really, you’re curious. Who is this? Who would be so bold to come to the crowning with filthy boots?

In the next moment, the crown is placed upon your head. You don’t move. Don’t breathe. The stranger’s fingers brush the underside of your chin, pressing gently. You respond. You can’t resist. It is natural to do so.

Your gaze takes in this stranger as your head lifts. And when you see his face, you realize that this is no stranger at all.

“Aragorn,” you whisper, and his response is a smile.

There is applause, and good-natured cheering all around, and yet you respond to none of it. It is only him, this man you’ve been missing, standing before you.

“What are you doing here?” you ask just as the music starts up. It’s too early. Aragorn often arrives in the fall when the leaves start to change.

Others are already wandering off together or going their separate ways. You’re left staring, happy to see him but not understanding why.

“To see you,” he replies.

To see you. To see you. Whatever nervousness you felt before is gone, replaced with a giddiness that sends heat right to your cheeks.

When you don’t reply immediately, Aragorn frowns. “Have I upset you?”

“No!” You reach for him, grabbing his upper arm, taking a step forward. “Not at all. I’m just…surprised.”

His gaze softens, and you could fall into his depths. “Didn’t think I’d come?”

“You always visit when the weather begins to cool.”

“I do,” he agrees. “Couldn’t stay away.” Aragorn says this almost absently as his fingers toy with a white ribbon on your dress.

A young woman shrieks with delight, and you and Aragorn both turn as she’s hoisted in the air.

“Would you like to dance?” he asks.

The answer is immediate. “Yes.”

He presents his hand, and you take it. His palm is warm. Strong. Aragorn leads, and then you’re moving, matching the correct steps. It’s not an intense dance but it isn’t slow either.

“Did you just arrive?”

He smiles. “As they were distributing the flowers.”

“Is that why you’re so dirty?” Aragorn laughs as you lean in and sniff, making an exaggerated expression. “And smelly?”

“I thought you liked the way I smelled after a ride.” Aragorn wraps his arm around your waist, turning as he does so.

“A ride,” you correct. “Not a journey.”

The music swells, dips, and then increases in pace. You’re left focusing on your feet, going through the motions. But Aragorn knows what he’s doing, and he leads you through it effortlessly. It’s difficult to speak, but his hands do enough talking. Aragorn’s touch lingers. He might squeeze slightly or allow his hand to wander. It stirs something hot in your belly that travels lower until you’re blazing everywhere.

When the music comes to an end, and the two of you are out of breath, Aragorn places his hand on your lower waist and guides you away.

“Something to drink?”

“Please.”

Berry wine is had before Aragorn takes your hand again, the two of you strolling off into the nearby orchard. Between the trees, there is privacy, the two of you walking in gentle silence. It’s just your hand in his and the warm breeze that stirs up your dress.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you say, stopping next to an apple tree. There are leaves on its branches but no blooms.

Aragorn comes to a stop beside you, his chest nearly brushing your shoulder. “Glad? That is all you feel?” With a soft touch, Aragorn turns your head in his direction. His head is angled downward, and there is no escaping what you see in his eyes.

There are times when the two of you have found a bit of quiet, some peace only with the need to explore the other. As you gaze upon his face, you are entirely aware of what he wants, but Aragorn is an honorable man. He will not push or insist on more unless you’re the one who seeks it out.

The berry wine is warm in your blood. Aragorn’s nearness is just as intoxicating. His fingers play with that same ribbon, and you lean into his touch until your noses brush lightly against each other.

“There is plenty I feel,” you reply, your voice a whisper amongst the birdsong and breeze.

“Is your heart willing to share?” Aragorn tugs lightly on the ribbon, loosening a portion of the bodice.

“Is yours willing to hear the truth?” you counter, knowing that you’d give him anything in this moment.

Aragorn tugs on the ribbon again, loosening the bodice further. Air rushes into your lungs as your chest receives a bit of freedom. “Tell me now. Under the trees. Let the sky listen.”

“You’re far too sweet to be a warrior,” you laugh, and Aragorn grins, closing the distance. The kiss is chaste and lovely, sending heat down to your toes and up to the crown of your head.

Your fingers find the front of his tunic. They curl inward, pulling of their own accord, seeking his closeness. Aragorn indulges, deepening the kiss until your bodies are pressed together. His hand rises, clutching the back of your neck. There is only you and him and your repeated meetings.

When you finally break apart, your lips are raw, and you hunger for more. You ache for deeper things, and long to tell him so.

“Is this all right?” he asks, fingers brushing against your exposed collarbone.

“Yes,” you murmur in reply, shivering under his touch.

Aragorn returns to your mouth, and you open for him. Your own fingers explore as much as his, but it is Aragorn’s fingers that venture beneath fabric.

You inhale sharply, and his hand retreats. “Apologies.”

“Don’t stop,” you say, grasping his wrist to guide his hand back to your skin.

Under the shade of the apple tree, Aragorn follows your lead, the two of you finding a dance. Although time has not been kind, keeping the two of you parted, there is no need to rush. You are happy simply existing with him, taking time to explore and savor what you’ve missed over the last few months.

Every caress is a song, and each kiss not only satiates but fuels the hunger that sits low in your belly. Fingers press and dig into skin. Clothing opens or falls away. There is no one else around, and Aragorn’s warmth is all you seek.

“Will you stay?” you ask between kisses.

Aragorn pauses, drawing back slightly. “For a few days.”

A few days. A few days with him and then separation. With Aragorn arriving now, will he return in the fall? Or will this be your new normal?

Even as these doubts swirl in your mind, you know the truth.

You don’t care.

As long as he comes, as long as he returns to you when he can, that is enough.

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck

@tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @cherryofdeath

@berarenado @therealbloom @ninman82 @thewulf @ferns-fics

@beebeechaos @hantheconqueror @miaraei

[smilingdawn]

RIP Melkor you would've loved Westeros in its Targaryen era

[vesn-a]

Frodo Baggins *bursts into tears*

[faeriichaii]

Hi! I am hoping you still do requests, if not feel free to ignore this (please tell me if you can’t do it by messaging me so I know) Its a platonic fic idea, mostly fluff but with an overwhelming amount of angst, it’s a father Thorin (The Hobbit) with a daughter reader (if it’s not an issue and for less confusion I would like the reader to be a “Dwelf” half Dwarf half Elf)

Basically Thorin’s story (and pov) of raising his daughter as a single father. Seeing the reader grow from an infant into a child, and from a child to a young teen, and from a teen to a strong woman. Teaching her all she needs to know and being there for her during her happy moments and her sad moments.

He takes her to adventure with him to reclaim Erebor, seeing her fight with the skills he taught her, and of course to his absolute dismay watching her fall in love with Legolas and (With Thorin trying his best to stop it) him falling for her as soon as they meet in Mirkwood’s dungeons. As the adventure continues Thorin starts realizing the the chances of the reader having an immortal elf life style while he stays mortal. During his moments with Dragon Sickness he becomes possessive of the reader bc she is his greatest treasure. And during his final moments he isn’t sad at all because his daughter is right there with him, and all he can think of is all of the memories they shared from her infant days to now. And now is looking forward to seeing how her future will play out once he’s gone.

Sorry it’s long. It’s sad but I have so much love for Thorin because he reminds me so much of my father and seeing him get killed made me cry so hard bc my father also died not to long ago.

Fading Light ~ Thorin x Daughter!Reader

A/N: Omg I am SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!!! A lot happened in my life and I have been working on and off on the fanfic but IT IS FINALLY FINISHED!!! I really hope you like it <3 I also struggled so hard with certain scenes so yeah hahaha... Anyway, enjoy it!! Also I did like math to make the years and timeline make sense yk?? So yeah I put 110% effort into it!! And also 35 years for her is like 12/13?? I think?? Maybe a bit younger but I just thought I'd mention it in case there are questions hihihi

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Angst, a bit fluff, dad and daughter, bit Legolas x Reader ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 10.4k (my longest so far omfg) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: yes thank you <3 ࿐ྂ

Summary: Thorin and you, his daughter on your journey to Erebor. And also the journey of him as a single father watching his princess grow up.

~300 Years prior~ Soft laughter bounced across the walls of his bedroom, as Thorin, son of Thráin and grandson of Thrór, looked down. In his arm he held an abundance of different furs and fabrics. Hidden within them lay a small infant. Her eyes shone like the very diamonds within the halls as she saw her father standing over her. Looking out for her. Tiny hands wriggled free from the warm depth of the blankets and tried to grab for his hair, however, Thorin instead let her hold on to his finger. She giggled as she pulled his hand further towards her. A smile graced his lips, as he cradled his daughter gently. “Aren’t you the most precious gem in all of Erebor?” His question was answered by a yawn from his daughter. Laying her down in her small wooden cradle, he stayed at her side for a few more minutes. “You are the only light in my life (Y/N).”

~285 Years prior~ “Daddy, look what I found!” Thorins eyes moved from the scroll on the table towards his daughter. Her long hair was braided into two pigtails, showcasing her pointy elvish ears. Hanging between her small fingers was a beautiful pearl necklace. “Where did you find this (Y/N)? I thought you were playing with Kili, Fili and your dolls?” His eyebrow raised in question, as the small girl suddenly hid the necklace from his sight. Her eyes were downcast, only showcasing her painfully obvious guilty expression even more. “Did they take you to the treasure room again?” A soft yes fell from her lips.

“Please don’t be angry daddy…” Thorin stood up from his chair and approached his daughter. Kneeling down, he put both his hands on her small shoulders. “I could never be angry with you princess. But next time you explore around the castle with your cousins, make sure to let me know, ok?” Her face lit up at the realisation that she in fact did not get herself or Kili and Fili into trouble. “I will daddy! I saw a biiiiiig crown for you.” And with those parting words his daughter ran towards the door, threw it open and squeezed past her cousins to find the crown she saw earlier.

“Soooo I guess we are off the hook as well?” Fili asks carefully. “Don’t let this happen again. At least let me know before you drag her into your crazy ideas.” “We just thought she might want to see a little bit more of her dwarvish side you know?” Kili joined his brothers side, playing with a coin he probably got from the treasure room. “After all she is only half-“ “Don’t say another word.” Thorins voice was laced with anger and hurt. “She is a dwarf and ONLY a dwarf. Nothing more and nothing less. And currently she is roaming the castle ALONE while you were in charge of taking care of her.“ „You are right uncle. Next time we will take her around to explore the castle, we will let you know in advance.“ Fili gave his brother a shove into the direction of the open doors before deciding to search for their little cousin.

~280 Years prior~ Thorin watched his daughter from a short distance, discussing some matters about mining with his father and grandfather. Thrór looked at the little girl and shook his head. „I still can‘t believe that you let this happen Thorin.“ The mentioned dwarf raised an eyebrow at the king. „What exactly do you mean by that?“ „Well, you let yourself get charmed by an elf and not only that but you let her leave you alone with a child. This child is not even completely a dwarf. Where is her beard? Instead she has pointy ears… She has too much from her mother.“ Thorins expression darkened at the hurtful words of his grandfather. „She is no elf. She might not look like a dwarf and might not be able to grow a beard like we do, however she will be raised as one of us and she is still my daughter. And she is still your great-granddaughter.“ Suddenly a scream disturbed their banter and as Thorin looked back at his daughter, he saw her trying to sit up.

Rushing towards her, he slowly helped her up and gave her a quick lookover. „Are you okay princess?“ She sniffled, wiped the dirt from her hands, as well as from her knees and looked at her father. „Daddy! Something bad happened! This frog ate the butterfly!“ A sigh of relief left his lips at the harmless declaration. „Please don‘t scare daddy like this ever again, okay sweetheart? I thought something bad happened to you.“ „I‘m sorry…“ After her apology she rushed over to her grandfather. „Grandfather, look! I picked you a flower!.“ Thráin smiled at the child in front of him, before taking the small flower from her hands. „It looks very beautiful. Thank you so much (Y/N).“ She smiled brightly at him, before holding another flower toward her great-grandfather. „I also got you one.“ He stared at the plant for a few seconds, before taking it from her without saying a word. She tilted her head to the side in confusion, after getting brushed off so carelessly. „So, Thorin. How are things going with the trading contract?“ 

~265 Years prior~ „You have to raise your elbow a bit higher to properly shoot an arrow (Y/N).“ Kili said, as he helped her adjust her posture. An annoyed sigh escaped her lips. „Can‘t we take like a short break?“ „If you can shoot something else than the ground around us, than sure.“ Taking an arrow from the quiver, which is slung across her back, she began to align it with her bow. Pulling the string all the way back, she gave Kili a quick glance before letting go and watching it fly through the air. The arrow didn’t hit the target, but instead hit the tree behind it.

„That was good! See for your first lesson in archery you are doing just fine!“ „You really think so?“ She excitedly asked her cousin, while slinging the bow across her back. „Definitely. Thorin will be so proud to hear that you won‘t just fight with swords and daggers, but also with arrows and bows.“ „About that… Could you maybe keep it a secret? He barely allowed me to hold a sword so if he finds out I am now also trying to get into archery…“ Her gaze was pleading, as she begged Kili to keep this between them. „I don‘t understand why he is so careful? I learned how to wield a sword when I was 10! And you are already 35 so why waste more time?“

His words echoed through her head. Why would her father be so against her being able to fight? Isn‘t it normal for a dwarf to be learning weaponry so early on in their life? „Hey Kili, do you think it is because I am different?“ The question made him stumble. „What? Never! He always made sure that you would not think that way. You are a dwarf.“ „Only half a dwarf though. I am also partly elf, don‘t forget that.“ This was also the reason why she was already a bit taller than most of her family members. Even though she was only 35 years old. Barely a teenager.

A smile graced her lips, as she leaned towards Kili. „You know, I found a book in the library about elvish customs. That‘s why I also tried a new hairstyle today.“ She spun around, to showcase him the flowers in her elvish braided hair. „They do braiding a little differently, than we do. They also don‘t use the beads we use, which honestly is really a big loss.“ „Never would I have thought that you would start looking into your elvish side.“ He laughed while giving her a gentle shove with his shoulder. „Of course! I mean I had to find out why I am the only one in the whole castle who won‘t grow a beard?“

„So how did shooting arrows go?“ Thorins voice made the two turn around in an instant. „Fili was quite surprised, knowing that I didn‘t know about your plans.“ She knew she should have told him. In the beginning the whole learning archery thing was just a joke between the three of you. Until she read the elvish book and saw a handsome elf man hold up an arrow with pride. Maybe, thought it would help her enjoy her elvish side a little bit more. „I am sorry father. I just thought I would try it out you know? All the other kids are already swinging axes around and braiding beards.“ She pouted at her father, as he took the bow and arrows from her. „You will learn how to properly fight soon enough, but you are still young. Go play with your toys while I discuss something with Kili, won‘t you.“ „Father, toys are for little kids and I am not a little kid anymore!“ „And you are still not an adult now, are you?“ Grumbling softly under her breath, she stormed off towards the castle.

~250 Years Prior~ „Do you really think it is a good idea (Y/N)?“ „Of course it is Kunri, don‘t worry too much. You just need to keep quiet, or else my father will find us.“ Her hand was wrapped around his wrist, pulling him along towards one of the towers. Their plan was to look up at the stars that were scattered across the sky. And maybe, just maybe kiss. It was the perfect idea and the perfect plan. Kunri was also the perfect dwarf in her mind. He was super sweet and kind. And his beard was always so well kept and braided. He also once complimented her hair, even though it wasn‘t braided in the typical dwarvish style. „We are almost there Kunri, I promise you, you will like the view.“ „But what if we get caught?“ The worry in his voice made her stop in her tracks and turn around. Facing him, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. „Nothing will happen and nobody will find us. The two of us will just watch some stars from the tower that‘s it.“ She gently smiled at him, before turning back around and continue on her way up the stairs. Kunri let out a sigh before following after her.

At the top of the stairs, she helped her companion up before watching his face glow up in delight. „Wow the stars are even brighter from up here!“ His hands were holding onto the stone railing while his gaze was focused on the shining lights above. „I always come up here if I need a moment from all the hectic princess lifestyle.“ She said, making herself comfortable beside the dwarf. Her heart began to hammer, as their arms grazed against each others for a split second. „Kunri I-„ „Do you think Touk would like it here?“ He accidentally cut her off. „What?“ She stammered, doubting herself and the words she just heard from her crush. „Ahh I just thought that… you know… I would like to present Touk a bead and I thought this place might be perfect you know?“ Her mouth formed a silent ‘o‘ at the statement. She didn‘t knew that he liked Touk. She always expected him to like her back. Why else would he spend so much time with her? Why else would he be willing to touch her hair? „I never knew you like Touk in that kind of way.“ She whispered, trying to mask the pain in her voice the best she could.

„I never told you? I‘m sorry, I thought I mentioned it a few times. Well, him and I, we just started thinking that we might be each others Ones you know?“ Biting down on her lip, she nodded at Kunris words. „Of course. I bet he would love it up here.“ She quickly wiped away the tear that fell from her eyes and stood up. „Well, I think we probably should be going now.“ „But we just arrived here?“ „Yes, but my father, you know he actually really loves this place and I don‘t think you want to be caught by him while the two of us are up here, in a romantic setting, alone.“ The desperation in her voice to leave this godforsaken tower made Kunri immediately take the first few steps down into the castle. Nobody talked and the only sound echoing off of the tight staircase were their feet hitting step after step. As soon as the both of them arrived at the bottom, she waved him goodbye and made her way back to her chambers. Her heart hammered in her chest, as the feeling of rejection rushed through her body. Tears began streaming down her face even before she arrived at her door. Throwing herself onto the bed, she let her emotions flow. Her heart began to ache at the lack of reciprocation for her feelings. Why couldn‘t she be his One? Why was it Touk? They didn‘t even look that cute together.

A knock was heard on the door. „Please leave, I am not in the mood right now.“ She said inbetween sobs. The door opened nonetheless. She turned around, so the intruder would only see her back and not her tear stained face. „Princess, what happened? Are you in pain?“ Thorins voice rang in her ears. He was the last person she wanted to see right now. „Father I am sorry but please just leave me alone.“ He took a step towards the bed. „You know I could help you with anything that is on your mind.“ „I don‘t need any advice or any help right now. I just want to be left alone.“ She pulled her blanket over her head to drown out his presence, as well as her thoughts. „Let me know if you need anything. Or when you are ready to talk about it.“ With those parting words and a heavy heart, he left his daughters room.

~200 Years Prior~ Sweat dripped down her forehead, as she wielded the sword against her opponent. Fili had an easy smile on his face as he beckoned her forward with his fingers. “Come on, is this all you got? I thought we trained you better.” An angry huff left her lips. Her stance shifted; her grip tightened around the sword as she rushed towards her cousin. The sound of metal hitting metal mixed with their grunts. Her hair flying from side to side while focussing on her target. His sword was aiming for her right side. Sidestepping him, she quickly dove for his neck. But before her sword could graze him, he kicked her in the shins. Taking a few steps back, she looked at him angrily. “That was so foul of you.” “Do you think the enemy would care?” Fili smirked down at her. A growl left her lips, before she advanced once more toward him. It didn’t take much for him to dodge her attacks. Suddenly her sword flew from her hands and landed a few meters away in the grass. “What are you going to do now (Y/N)? Surrender?” His mocking voice set her ablaze.

Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself down and focused once more on her sparring partner. She hated it when either him or Kili won against her. They would nonstop tease her about it and she wouldn’t even hear the end of it. She rushed towards him for the third time, fists ready to strike. Seeing her, he readied his sword to take her down. Suddenly she shifted to the right, unsheathed a dagger from within her sleeve and struck him across the cheek. Surprise was evident on Filis face as his cousin quickly moved behind him. Her hand stealthily grabbing his wrist and twisting it so he would let go of the sword. Kicking him behind the knees, he buckled forward, arms behind his back and dagger at his neck. “And that is how you actually win a battle.” She whispered in his ears.

Clapping could be heard, behind them. “I really hope you never turn on your father.” She let go of Fili, before turning around and greeting Thorin. “I told you, I would best them both at some point.” A smile was on her lips, as she stood beside her father, watching her cousin stand up from the ground. “But will you best me?” Her head quickly pivoted to the dwarf beside her. He unsheathed his sword and took a few steps back from his daughter. “Show me what you have learned.” A smirk formed on her lips, before she walked over to where her sword lay in the grass. Spinning it around a few times she got into her fighting stance. They circled each other for a few seconds, before Thorin advanced towards her quickly. She barely got enough time to dodge the sword splitting her half. The strength of his blow shoved her back a few steps. Her surprised gaze lingered on her father. He barely gave her a second to calm down after the attack before diving right towards her once more. This time he aimed for her side. Dodging it she spun around, so she was behind him. Her sword was up, ready to take him down. Suddenly she felt a punch in her gut. Stumbling to the ground, she held her stomach. The tip of the sword was at her throat.

“Are you alright?” He asked her, making sure he didn’t hit her too hard. Holding out his hand, he helped his daughter up. “I didn’t expect you to be so…” “Brutal? Lethal? Violent?” Fili said, while standing behind his uncle. “Yeah…” “The enemy doesn’t care if you are a woman or my daughter.” She let her fathers’ words sink in. “From now on, you won’t just train with Kili and Fili but with me as well.” A soft hum of approval passed her lips. Wiping off the dirt from her pants and readjusting her stance, as well as the grip on her weapon, she readied herself for another round of sparring with her father.

~171 Years Prior~ Smoke was filling her lungs, as she run alongside her father. The dragon Smaug was infiltrating the castle and they were trying to fight back as much as possible. “Find as many as you can and evacuate them!” “But what about you?” Rubble fell around them as the ground beneath them shook. “I will find Thrór and take care of the situation inside the throne room.” Thorin said, unsheathing his sword and pushing through the dwarves who are frantically running around. The thought of following her father came to mind, but she quickly chose against it. Her job was to evacuate as many people as she possibly could. So she rushed into the opposite direction of her father. “You have to leave as fast as you can! Leave while you can! Run towards safety!” She screamed while passing through various hallways. “Leave Erebor! Leave! Run towards safety!”

 Sweat was dripping down her forehead, as she turned corner after corner, ushering out as many dwarves as she could. „(Y/N)! Have you checked the dining hall?“ Dwalin had his axe in his hand, ready to take out the beast if it passed him. „Not yet, but I was on my way there.“ „I will go into the direction of the courtyard. I‘ll keep them safe out there.“ She nodded at his words and took off into the mentioned direction. Throwing open the massive wooden doors, she immediately began to usher all of the stumbling dwarves outside. „Leave through the main gate immediately! If you can, travel into the direction of the Caves of Aglarond!“ Most of them listened to her words. Checking the room once more, she picked up an injured dwarf. „It will be faster this way.“ She muttered, as she carried the woman in her arms. Finally outside, she took a deep breath of fresh air before searching for her father and grandfathers. Spotting them in the distance, she began to approach them. Thorin immediately rushed to her and took her in his arms. „Are you alright? Did you get hurt?“ He held her at arms length and scanned her body for any wounds. „Father, don‘t worry I am fine.“ A gentle smile graced her lips for a split second, before disappearing once more as realisation dawned upon her. Her home was destroyed. The dragon infiltrated the castle and made it its own. „What are we supposed to do now?“ „We will travel towards Rohan and seek shelter.“ Casting Erebor one last look, they began their travels towards Rohan. Towards the Caves of Aglarond. Far away from home.

~1 Year Prior~ „Who is this last person that is going to join us on our way to Erebor?“ She asked her father, who was walking alongside her. „I don‘t know. Gandalf told me he knew just the right person for the job.“ A hum left her lips at his answer. Over 100 years have passed since Erebor got violently invaded by the dragon Smaug. And so many things have changed. Thorin and his daughter have been traveling far and wide passing through various towns and villages. Finding work was hard. People barely accepted Thorin among them but his daughter? They wouldn‘t even look at her. Until she could prove that she was just as good (and often even better) than most of their employees. Especially, when it came to forging weapons. Her keen eye for detail made each and every single piece a one of a kind, which were then sold at a insanely high price. 

A small village was forming on the horizon. „Do you think we will make it before the others eat our portion of the dinner?“ She jokingly asked Thorin, shoving him with her elbow. „I doubt it, if Dwalin and Bombur arrive before us.“ A soft laugh escaped her lips. Never would she have thought that the day would come where all of them would go on an adventure to return to Erebor. To reclaim Erebor as their mountain. As their home. It made her heart fill with warmth. „I can‘t wait to see them all again. Especially Kili and Fili! Do you remember, when we stole great grandpapas crown? You even watched the three of us retreat with our treasure!“ „How could I forget? After your little thievery, he yelled around the whole throne room and even accused me of stealing it.“ „Did you ever tell him that it was us?“ She asked him curiously. „Not you. Just Kili and Fili.“ A gasp fell from her lips at his words. „So that is why they were so mean to me during practice!“ 

The sun was already down, when they arrived in the small village. Only the lights of the lamps alongside the path illuminated Bag End. It was a strange new place. Most of the town was covered by various different hills that were various different sizes. From small ones, to big ones. However, all of them had round doors and matching round windows, to indicate that these were no normal dirt hills. These were someone’s homes. Stopping in front of a door, Thorin knocked on the wood. Rustling and grumbling, as well as cheering and singing could be heard from inside. „Sounds like everyone else is already inside.“ Thorin mumbled from beside her. She leaned down towards the window and tried to peep inside, however she couldn‘t make out much. Suddenly the door flung open and inside stood a angry looking hobbit. A sigh left his lips, before he took a step to the side. „Welcome, please come inside. Your companions are already waiting.“ Smiling down at him, she followed inside after her father.

Most weapons, bags and coats were flung carelessly onto the ground. Placing her bow and quiver beside the pile of swords, she hung her coat onto the coatrack, before turning towards the host. „Thank you so much for hosting our departure dinner Mr….“ „Baggins, Bilbo Baggins. Here at your service.“ She smiled brightly at him. „Thank you Mr. Baggins.“ Her posture was a bit crouched, due to the fact that the chandelier almost hit her in the face. The sound of laughter grew louder the closer they got towards the dining area. „Ahh (Y/N)! And of course the king himself, Thorin Oakenshield.“ Gandalf greeted them both, ducking under the chandelier in order to get closer to Thorin. Scooting past the wizard, she sat down beside Fili. „Finally you arrived! Now we can begin with the proper festivities.“ He said, shovelling some food onto his plate. The warmth of the wonderful company filled her heart with glee and excitement. She knew that the journey just began, but deep down she also knew that no matter what happens, they will get back to Erebor and they will slay the dragon. 

~10 Months Prior~ „I do not wish to be in the presence of these elves.“ Thorin grumbled, trying to decline Gandalfs idea. „You are in dire need of a proper shelter and you know that Rivendell is close by. Also Elrond might help us get some insight about-„ „I do not wish to seek his help.“ She knew why her father was so incredibly opposed to visit Rivendell. Even though Lord Elrond never did anything to awaken Thorins wrath. At least not personally. She has noticed king Thranduil at the edge of the forest herself. Seen how he majestically sat atop of his elk. And declined to help them fight against Smaug. Her heart ached that night. Having lost not only her home but also one of Erebors strongest alliances.

„Father, Lord Elrond wasn‘t the one to ignore our call for help. So please, give him a chance. He might now how we could open the hidden door.“ Her pleading softened his tough facade. A sigh escaped his lips, as he looked forward. „We will only stay one night. None more.“ „Wonderful! Than let‘s change course towards Rivendell.“ Gandalf gave her a nod as a sign of thanks, before departing from the two of them. „I did not knew that you saw the king that day as well.“ Thorins brows were furrowed as the memory of this dreadful time resurfaced. „I spotted them when they turned around to leave us behind.“ Her hand landed on his shoulder, a gentle reminder that both of them survived the attack. „But this does not mean that I have a grudge against them.“ 

A gentle smile formed on his lips. „You will be a wonderful queen one day.“

She looked down at him, flabbergasted at his words. Never had she thought that at some point she will become a queen. Neither did she ever think about the fact that there might be a time when she will rule the kingdom. „A queen?“ „Of course. You are my daughter after all and you will inherit everything.“ Silence fell between them, as she thought about her fathers words. „What is it like to be a king? Is it hard?“ „I sadly did not get the chance to properly rule over Erebor yet, but this power comes with a great deal of responsibility. You need to make sure your kingdom works. This means that the people, who live inside your kingdom have little to complain about the way you rule over them. You need to take care of them. Think about what is best for everyone, not just one singular person.“ She nodded at his words, making sure to note everything mentally down. Just in case she really does become a queen.

„There are rulers, who have a heart made out of ice and are soulless. Creatures, who do not care about their lands. About their kingdom. All they want is the power that royalty gets them. But there are also kings and queens who rule with the warmth of their heart. That put their people first and themselves last. You yourself need to decide what type of queen you will be.“ „Father, will you be there for me and teach me when the time comes?“ Thorin stopped in his tracks at his daughters question. Taking her hands in his he looked up at her. Her pointed ears and her slightly taller frame are the only things that distinguish her from being a full dwarf. That and the lack of a beard. But suddenly a dreadful thought slithered into his head. Would he really be able to teach her? Will he be able to stay by her side until then? He is after all a mortal and will die at some point in his life, but his daughter?

A small smile graced his lips, as he gave her hands a gentle squeeze. „Of course I will. You will be the best queen Erebor will ever see.“ She gave him a hug at his reassuring words, before they continued on on their way to Rivendell.

Hours passed and they finally arrived at their destination for the night. Taking everything in, she gasped at the marvellous beauty that was Rivendell. The trees were beautiful. The architecture was breathtaking. And the people? Beautiful. Never had she seen such beautiful clothes and dainty jewellery. She loved the gems and jewels that lay deep in the treasure cove of Erebor, but these? They were breathtaking. „Please, welcome to Rivendell. You shall be escorted to your rooms. Clean yourselves and as soon as you will be ready dinner will be served.“ The words of Lord Elrond brought her back into reality. An elf stood in front of her. A woman who’s beauty rivalled with the flowers in the lushes garden. She was taller than her and her ears pointier. A real elf, not just an half elf like herself. Following the woman down a corridor, they stopped at a wooden door. „The bath is ready for you princess and a gown was prepared for you as a welcome present. If you need anything else, please call for my aid.“ And with those parting words the maid left her alone in front of the door. Turning the knob, she stepped through the wooden door. A gasp left her lips at the room. Windows that went from the floor to the top of the ceiling let in the warm sunlight and gave the room a golden glow. The bed looked like it was stolen from the sky above. Like the softest cloud she had ever laid her eyes upon. And the dress on top of it. A long dark green gown with beautiful golden vines sown into it. Oh she could not wait to get ready. 

Setting her weapons, as well as her cape down into a corner of the room, she immediately headed for the bathroom. She was craving a warm bath, having already forgotten what warm water even felt like on her body. During her travels with her father they mostly had to house at inns and various different locations that did not offer the luxury of warm water. Throwing her clothes off, she let her foot sink into the water. The warmth immediately engulfed her and a satisfied hiss left her lips. Her aching muscles finally got time to relax. She did not ever want to step out of there. Closing her eyes, she let her body sink even further into the liquid. Is this what the heavens feel like? Is this eternal happiness? After enough time passed she had to abandon the waters and step into the dress. The fabric of the gown was soft to the touch and she let out a gentle giggle as she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like a real fairytale princess. Leaving the room, she headed for the dinner hall.

Thorin could not believe his eyes as he saw his daughter enter the room. She fully looked like her mother in this moment. Like a real elf. Like she belonged here. „You look beautiful my little princess.“ He said, a smile on his lips. „Thank you father.“ Bowing her head, she stood beside him, looking over Rivendell. „So you are princess (Y/N). Welcome to Rivendell.“ „Thank you Lord Elrond. I have read quite a few books about it but no words do this beautiful lands justice.“ A smile formed on the elf’s lips at her phrase. „It indeed is breathtaking isn‘t it? I remember when your mother first stepped into the castle. She was astonished as you were.“ She blinked at his words. „You have met my mother?“ „Of course. But this is not the time to be discussing these things I assume?“ Elronds gaze moved from her to Thorin, his glare cutting through the topic. „Maybe another time.“ Her voice so quite, it was almost inaudible. This was the first time she was inside of Rivendell and the first time she met Lord Elrond. And he knew her mother? Her mother was often a topic that was avoided by her father. He didn‘t despise talking about her. Quite the opposite. He loved her so incredibly much that it pained him to the core to talk about her. Because talking about her reminded him of her not being around. Not having witnessed his daughter grow up. So she always tried her best to bring up her mother as little as possible. To not hurt her grieving father even more. Sometimes during really tough times, she considered that he might be happier if her mother would still be around instead of her. But these thoughts were quickly diminished when he would knock on her door, a fresh batch of cookies in his hand and a beaming smile on his face.

„I will leave you to your important meeting now.“ She said, bowing slightly to Lord Elrond, before joining the others on the long dinner table. Their faces were filled with disappointment and disgust as they inspected the lettuce on their plates. One would think that there was no food on their plates but disgusting cockroaches spiked on some picks. Sitting beside Balin, she looked down onto her plate. „Why this sour reaction? This food doesn‘t look that bad.“ „Well it is- Wow.“ Balin stopped in the middle of his sentence as he gave her a once over. „You are the spitting image of your mother.“ A blush formed on her cheeks at the heartfelt compliment. She saw some beautiful paintings of her mother and she always wished to be just like her. „Thank you.“ Eating her dinner, she listened to the soft violins that played soft background music. „You look more like an elf now. It‘s almost like your dwarf packed its bags and left.“ Kili suddenly said from opposite of her. „Hahaha I can barely contain my laughter.“ She sarcastically answered. „You would wish I would pack my things and leave you behind, but who else would kick your butt during sparring sessions?“ „Hey! Just because you beat me last time, doesn‘t mean that you will beat me all the time.“ A laugh escaped her lips at her cousins defiance. 

Sadly the dinner passed all too quickly and soon enough she found herself inside her room once more. Her nightgown, a white long dress, gently swayed around her legs, as she gazed at the stars high above. The night was tranquil and it felt like an eternity that she felt this peaceful. It was almost as if everything was alright. As if she wasn‘t on a journey to find an enormous beast and get back the lonely mountain. Is this what it will be like after she returns home?

~5 Months Prior~ „He said we only need to follow the path so this is what we will be doing.“ Thorins voice echoed in her head, as she gazed at her companions that completely abandoned the aforementioned path. „This is not right, come back!“ Following them deeper into the forest, a shiver went down her spine. The light didn‘t properly reach this part and it was quite eerie. Except for the dwarves who kept on talking and babbling some nonsense. This was madness. They have to return to the… path? She turned around. Only tall trees and bushes were in her line of sight. Turning back around she saw that one dwarf was missing. Who was missing? Why was he missing? What even was she doing here? A scream from her right brought her back into reality. Immediately she unsheathed her sword and ripped Bilbo from the claws of the enormous spider. 

„What is going on? Why is my mind so hazy?“ The panic in her voice unsettled Bilbo. „I don‘t know, but what I do know is that there are more spiders coming.“ Getting surrounded by these beasts was not what Gandalf had in mind as he sent the company through the forest. Neither did she expect to find herself fighting against an eight legged monster. The metal of her sword clashed against the fangs that were ready to strike her down. Diving down she slashed through two of its legs, before piercing its body in the middle with her sword. Her mind was foggy, which made her stumble in her steps. The others were trying to hold back the spiders but it was no use. Suddenly arrows flew through the sky, hitting beast after beast. Not being able to comprehend what was happening she stood there, sword by her side. Elves had arrived to slay the spiders. Her eyes caught onto a blonde haired elf and she watched, as he slowly descended towards her. „What are you doing here?“ The stranger asked her. Her mouth opened and closed. No answer was able to pass her lips, as she took him in. His eyes were analysing her, as well as the dwarves behind her. His beautiful ocean blue eyes. And his beautiful blonde hair. It was partially braided, showcasing his pointed ears. His beautiful pink lushes pink lips. They seemed to move but no words would register in her mind. Did she become deaf after leaving the path? His hands grabbed her shoulders, turned her around and bound her wrists together. 

The moment her mind finally cleared up she found herself inside the Mirkwood palace. Bound by her wrists and all of them in a row. In front of King Thranduil. „I did not expect to see you wandering around my forest Thorin Oakenshield.“ He said, his voice laced with slight mockery. „Let us leave. Now.“ Thranduil raised an eyebrow at his request. „You trespass through my lands and do as you please. Why would I just let you leave now? You actually had luck that my son was on patrol. Else you would have gone mad and lost yourself to the forest.“ His head was held high as he let his gaze wander over each and everyone. „You even brought your daughter on your journey. That is quite a surprise. Considering you held her hostage most of her life in the mountain.“ „Don‘t you dare say another word about her.“ Her father shook in his shackles. The anger that was radiating off of him could heat up the entire castle. Thranduil made a move with his hands, almost as if he would dismiss the lot of them. „Please, enjoy your stay in the dungeon.“ Guards were escorting them, her being the last in the line. „Except for her. She shall stay in the castle a little while longer.“ At this Thorin began to thrash around. „Don‘t you dare-„ His voice was cut off as the door to the dungeons shut.

Her eyes widened as she realised that she was standing in the throne room of the Mirkwood castle. All alone. Tied up. „Tell me dear, what were you doing here.“ Staring at the king on his throne she swallowed hard and shook her head. „I shall not talk about it.“ Her gaze wandered over to his son, who was standing beside the throne. The beautiful man who is the whole reason she ended up here. „It is not every day that people wander through my woods. And even less that they wander off of the path. So I think you should definitely tell me.“ He suddenly stood up and walked towards her. His face only a few inches from his own. „Why did you decide to walk through Mirkwood and what is the goal of your journey?“ Suddenly the memories of the time as tragedy hit Erebor and Thranduil refused help resurfaced. „You did not help in our dire need of help. Why is that?“ A smirk formed on his lips at her question. „You dwarves got what you sowed. You were greedy and only the greediest get a visit from a dragon. And Smaug is one of the dragons for the most greedy souls.“ Her eyebrows furrowed at his words. „We just kept what was ours safe.“ „No you did not!“ His booming voice made her flinch. „You kept the thing I hold dear far far beneath your precious mountain and this is the price you had to pay. Not just for the diamonds but for the gold and silver that you hoard. One could have even easily mistaken you lot for dragons it it wasn‘t for your short statue and your beard.“ He took a quick look at her. „Except for you as a halfling. Neither fully dwarf, nor fully elf.“ She bit her lips at his words. The people in Erebor accepted her, adored her even. But even them would sometimes approach her with caution. Considering she was only half a dwarf. Different from them.

“Father, I think this is enough.” Thranduil stared at her for a few seconds longer, before retreating to his throne. “Legolas, please escort her back to her father.” Nodding at the request, the prince approached her. Grabbing her gently by her shoulders, he guided her towards the staircase that led to the imprisoned dwarves. “I apologize for my fathers words.” Legolas suddenly whispered, still leading her down the stone steps. “It is alright. Nothing I haven’t heard before.” She shrugged her shoulders. The words might not hurt as badly as the countless times before, but they still leave an unpleasant aftertaste. “Might I ask, how exactly did you end up in the middle of the forest?” “We never intended to leave the path, but one thing led to the other and now we seem to be stuck in your castle.” A hum left Legolas lips at her explanation. “You know, if you think about escaping then I would recommend doing so tonight. There are some festivities and preparations are currently taking place. Which means that most guards are not around in the dungeons. Or at least a lot less than normally.” She turned her head around to look at the man behind her, his words confusing her. “Why would you tell me this?” Suddenly her wrists were freed from the cold metal that bound them together. Turning around, she gave him a puzzled look. “I don’t think it is fair for you and your company to be held hostage.” Legolas smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling like diamonds. “Thank you so much.” She said, giving him a smile of her own before continuing on her way to the dungeons.

As the both of them arrived downstairs, Thorin immediately walked up to the bars. His eyes filled with anger at the close proximity of Legolas to his daughter. And the thought about what the king might have done to her. Opening the cell beside his, she was gently guided inside, the door falling shut behind her. The click of the key shutting her inside bounced off of the walls. Her hands grabbed the bars tightly. Legolas leaned towards her, his own hands just mere centimetres above her own. “Make sure to check your pockets at some point.” A soft nod from her indicated him that she understood the hint he gave her. “You have no need to get so cozy with my daughter now.” Thorin grumbled, having watched them the entire time. Lifting his hands up in surrender, the prince took a few steps away from the cell. “Of course. Enjoy your stay in Mirkwood.” And with these parting words he went back towards the throne room.

Time flew by as they were walking through the dark corridors, finding a way to get out of the castle unnoticed. Bilbo, for some unknown reason, did not get snatched by the guards and found himself standing in front of the locked-up cells. Without a key. Luckily Legolas seemed to want to help and slipped some copies of the keys into her pockets, which she of course quickly handed the hobbit.

“I was able to roam around a bit and found a wine cellar. I think the best option would be to get into the barrel and let them fall through the opening into the river below.” Nodding at the plan he just explained, each of the dwarves got comfortable inside one of the barrels. However, it was quickly noticed, that there weren’t enough barrels for everyone. “I can find another way out of the castle.” She quickly said, taking a step back from the company. “No. You should get inside. I will just follow you in some other way.” Thorin tried to argue but she just shook her head at his stubbornness. “No, they will catch you and you will be stuck here for eternity. We can’t risk that. I at least can blend into here. I am after all half-elf as well.” He thought about her argument for a few more seconds. Just as he was about to say something else, they heard footsteps approach. Shoving them into barrels and putting lids on top of them, she pulled the lever and watched each of them fall into the river below. The sound of people rushing towards the wine cellar made her duck behind a wall. Two guards walked through the door, arguing that they shouldn’t have left their spots. Their backs were turned towards her. Grabbing two glass bottles, she silently crouched towards them and hit each of them in the head. Both fell down with a loud thud. Quickly binding them she stripped one of them out of his uniform and put it on herself. It was a tad bit to big but it should still work. She should still pass as one of the Mirkwood guards.

Outside the cellars doors, there were guards rushing outside. One of them stopped in his tracks and gave her a once over. “What are you still doing here? The prisoners escaped! Go up there and make sure they don’t leave Mirkwood!” Nodding quickly at the order, she followed them outside. There she saw Legolas, trying to shoot down some Orks that for some reason seem to have found her and the company once more. Running after them she made sure to shoot arrows at anyone who seemed to attack the dwarfs. She heard Fili scream something at Kili, as the latter seemed to try and open the water flow, so they wouldn’t be stuck in Mirkwood anymore. That’s when an arrow landed in his thigh. “Kili!” She tried to run towards him, tried to help him. A Ork tried to approach him, but he was quickly taken care off by an arrow that flew from her bow. Reaching his side, she wrapped an arm around his back and half dragged and half carried him back to the barrel before it was swept away by the stream. Settling inside the small wooden compartment, her cousin let out a hiss of pain. “Are you alright?” Worry laced her words. She didn’t have a chance to examine the wound. “I will survive, don’t worry about it.” His voice wavered, as his mind still was focused on the gaping hole in his leg. Her arms tightened around him, making sure he won’t stumble out of the barrel. “Yes, we will take care of it, as soon as we arrive on land.” And with that they all let the river take them to their next destination.

~3 Months Prior~ He wouldn’t let her go. He constantly was by her side, making sure she was always around and in his reach 24/7. Making sure she is safe. And it drained her. She loved her father but ever since Kili almost died due to the poison in his system and the reconquest of Erebor he has been acting… differently. He was almost obsessed with her. “Father, I know you only mean well, but you have to let me go.” His eyes moved from the Arkenstone in his hand to his daughter. “Nonsense. There is no need for you to leave.” “But father, the people-“ “I don’t care about the people! Your safety is my priority and you shall not leave the castles grounds!” Anger bubbled up inside of her. “But what about Balin? What about Dwalin? What about all the other dwarves? War is about to happen outside and you are cooped up inside of this room, constantly staring at this stupid stone!”

“This is not a stupid stone!” His booming voice echoed through the halls. “This gem is the Arkenstone.“

Her eyes widened at his strange behaviour. She knew he was sick. She knew it was the stones fault that he behaved like an absolute lunatic. It happened to her great grandfather before. „Father, this is not like you at all!“ Thorins eyes narrowed on her, the gem set aside on the throne, as he walked up to her. „You will not leave this castle. Matter of fact, you will not even leave my side. You are my daughter and I will ensure your safety.“ He was quite shorter than her, however he was still intimidating. Especially under the influence of the dragon sickness. In the corner of her eye she noticed some movement. „I wish I could stay with you. I wish I could ease your mind, but this is not how we can save Erebor. I am sorry.“ She quickly ran away from the dwarf, far away from the throne and the king. Towards the door. Towards freedom. But she didn‘t make it far. Because Thorin snatched her wrist and snaked his arms around her body. Suffocating her in a hug. Keeping her close to him. Encasing her in his loving embrace. „You are my daughter (Y/N). Nothing will steal you away from me.“ What he did not see though, was her mouthing to Bilbo to grab the stone and make his quick escape, hoping this would turn her father back to the man he was before.

~2 Weeks Prior~ „I wish that we wouldn‘t have to go into battle.“ She said, looking up into the cloudy sky. The weather had been gloomy since days, almost as if even nature knew what was about to go down. „I agree. But sadly, it is not our choice to make.“ Legolas joined her side, leaning his arms on the castles stone walls that kept them safe. At least for now. „As if the dragon wasn‘t enough already, we have to fight against an army of orcs. It is so silly.“ She let out a pitiful laugh at the dire situation. The kingdom, just saved from the claws of a monster, faces another evil incoming. „Erebor will be saved. This battle will be won and the kingdom will be brought back to its former glory.“ The elf prince beside her smiled down at her, carefully grabbing her hand and letting his thumb reassuringly caress her skin. Heat bloomed on her cheeks at his gentle touch. „I appreciate your help Legolas. Yours and of course the help of your father.“ Her fingers tightened around his hand, squeezing it.

She was scared. War is just a few days away and who knows how long it will go on for? She just got back her home and her father finally found himself once more. No longer ill with the dragon sickness and now they all have to fight once more. For Erebor. When will it ever be enough? She let out a shaky breath. „What if we lose? What if Azog wins? What if we all will fall and-„ Her words were cut off. Her words were cut off due to a pair of lips on hers. A gentle kiss silenced her. A gentle kiss from Legolas silenced her. She barely registered what happened and he already pulled away. Her heart raced and her eyes took him in. His cheeks were tinted red and his eyes glistened with unsaid feelings. „We will not loose this war. We will not loose each other and we will win back your home.“ His reassuring words filled her with hope. "And afterward I will properly court you. In the dwarvish ways and in the elvish ways. In both ways." A gasp left her lips, as she registered what he just said. A bright smile graced her lips. "You might have to face another battle then. A battle even worse than the one that is about to hit Erebor. The battle with my father." Taking her hand, he brought it up to his lips and layed a gentle kiss on it. "I will make sure to ease the battle and get his blessing. For I will not let him stop my love for you." Her heart filled with warmth. Never did anybody ever say such things to her. Such lovely things. Such poetic lines. Her fingers traced gentle lines over his face, before pulling him down for another loving kiss.

Unbeknownst to her, Thorin watched the whole interaction through the window of his study. Anger bubbled inside the king, as his glare was set on the blonde-haired prince. But he also felt a pang in his chest. An ache in his heart. Legolas was an elf and so was his daughter. Even though she was only partly an elf, she still was one. The only thing that could kill her were wounds inflicted upon her. But not her age. She would live a long life, which he could not. His life was numbered. He was a mortal, like the men walking the earth or the hobbit who was their little thief. Meanwhile her lifespan was infinitely. „You might kill the prince with your eyes soon, Thorin Oakenshield.“ Gandalfs words cut through the dwarfs thoughts. „What is bothering you? Is it the love they have for each other? Or is it something else?” The wizard took a puff of his pipe. „It is neither of those and nothing of your concern.“ „Oh it might not be, but it could ease your mind to share your troubles with a friend.“„I am just worried. Worried like a father normally worries.“ Another puff of smoke left Gandalfs lips, as he thought about Thorins muttered words. „I think you do not need to worry. She is a capable young woman. She can handle herself perfectly fine.“ „I know. That is what I am worried about.“ The wizard let out a knowing chuckle. „Every daughter needs her father. No matter how old they are.“ A smile graced Thorins lips at the reassuring words. „I hope so.“

~10 Minutes Prior~ Blood. So much blood. And screams. But her mind was blank. She just saw both her cousins stabbed to death. Both their eyes wide open as their souls began to leave their bodies. Both their blood on her hands. But she had no time to mourn them. Even if it cut deep into her heart and sliced her apart. A cold reminder of the war surrounding her. She has to go help her father. Help him defeat Azog and finally end this nightmare. Her body felt numb, as she passed several orcs, slicing them down. Ending them. Killing them like they were killing her family. Her legs carried her further and further, her speed never faltering. Arrows flying from her bow into the orcs heads on the way. Finally she spotted her father at the top. He was wielding his sword against Azog in a heated battle. She had to help him. Stepping on the ice she stumbled a bit. How was Thorin managing to fight on it? Finding her balance, she watched Azog throw around his metallic chained up rock to smash Thorin into pieces but he always dodged his attacks. However, the ice underneath suffered tragically and began to break apart. This made her wobble and step back onto the grass.  The dwarf king and the orc stared at each other, clashing their weapons around until the sound of eagles echoed through the vast space. The sound of them approaching and flying above them distracted Azog long enough for Thorin to take his chances and throw the orcs own weapon into his hands. Stepping off of the small ice he watched, as his enemy fell into the cold water below.

The silence was deafening. Was it over? Was he finally defeated? She couldn’t believe it. Dropping her wooden bow on the ground she stared at her father, who was still miles away from her. Still on top of the frozen water. He smiled at her and she carefully began to take a step into his direction. But Thorin suddenly held out his hand, gesturing for her to stop in her tracks. His eyes were focused on the frozen ground underneath him. He began to follow whatever he saw, leaving his daughter behind. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and watched the king walk around. Suddenly a scream ripped from his throat. She stumbled backwards at the shocking sound. Her heart began to race as Azog resurfaced and the battle continued. „Father!“ She screamed, her shaking hands fumbling for her arrows and picking up her weapon from the ground. The frozen ground was shredded into tiny bits, making it impossible for her to join Thorins side and help him in close combat. So she had to aim for the enemy with her bow. Lodging one of the arrows, she let it fire and whirl through the wind. But she missed. Her arrows falling left and right into the water. The only sound that was heard were their grunts as Thorin lay underneath the orc, fighting for his life. He couldn‘t die like that. He couldn‘t die at all! She tried to grab another arrow, but there were none left.

Taking out her sword, she jumped onto one of the few ice pieces and began to slowly approach them. Her feet slipped countless times and her legs stung due to the cold water, but she still stumbled towards them. She had to help her father out. He needed her. Suddenly her father groaned and her eyes widened, as she saw that he stabbed Azog. They switched places and the orc lay lifeless underneath him. She stopped in her tracks, clinging onto the ice. It finally was over. The war was over. That was until her father fell to the ground. Her heart stopped and she immediately ran towards him. „Father!“ Her screams traveled across the empty field. Her arms and legs flailed as she jumped her way towards him. Her knees hit the ground beside him. Blood was pooling out of his wound and she immediately cradled his head in her lap. More blood oozed out of his lips, as he tried to utter some words. „Don’t talk! You will lose more blood.“ Tears began to stream down her face, as she watched him struggle more. He reached a shaking hand out toward her cheek. She leaned into his cold touch. „You will be a wonderful queen and… a wonderful ruler…“ He coughed. Hiccups fell from her own as she watched his life disappear from his eyes. „You can‘t die. We still have so much to do, you can‘t leave me yet. Please.“ Her voice cracked as she held her father closer. Her hands were pressing down on his wound. „I need a healer. You need a healer. I will press on your wound. Stay with me dad, please. I need you, please!“ Another cough from him cut her off. „I will always be by your side (Y/N).“ More tears fell from her eyes. He smiled up at her. „You are my… most important treasure.“

His hand slowly dropped from her face and his eyes began to close. „No. No!“ Her heart stopped. She tightly cradled him to her chest as more tears fell. As raw screams rippled from her throat. Even when Bilbo approached her, she didn‘t stop. She wailed like a baby while holding him, hoping he would open his eyes once more. Hoping he would hold her once more or give her a kiss on the head. „Please wake up.“ She whispered, her forehead touching his. But he never listened. She didn‘t even notice Legolas. Or how he gently lifted her from the ground. Or how they got back into the castle. The only thing she could remember was her father on the ice and how his blood soaked the water.

~5 Years After~ „You know, your father was worried about you.“ Gandalfs words made her turn around, surprise and confusion written over her face. „What do you mean?“ „He once saw you engaging with the prince. Well, who now is the king of Erebor.“ She smiled at the thought of her father. He always used to throw glares at the elf when he sat too close to her during the dinner. „He was worried that you might not find a place on Middle Earth.“ She frowned at his words. She didn‘t know that Thorin was worried about her. About her not being able to fit in. „But he also told me how proud he was of you.“ „How so?“ „He saw how you stood up against the dwarves and elf that belittled you. That told you that you belonged nowhere.“ The wizards words resurfaced the pain and bullying she had to endure. Not being a dwarf and neither being an elf was tough on her and most people did not take kindly upon her. But that never stopped her from stepping up for herself. From showing them that she deserves to be there, as much as they deserve to roam the world. „He told me that you will be a wonderful queen once you wear the crown. And it seems, that he was right.“ A bright smile graced her face at the compliment. „Thank you Gandalf.“ She turned towards the window and looked up into the night sky. „And thank you father. Thank you for believing in me.“