#feren imagine

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Part 5

Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader (Elf/Noldor |Third Person POV)

Themes: Soft

Warnings: Secondary character has mild panic attack | Brief mentions of bruising

Wordcount: 1.6K words

Summary: Y/n and Nitiel talk while preparing dinner for themselves and the other servants.

Minors DNI

A/n: This is more of a filler chapter, but I hope you all enjoy it.

A/n 2: the previous chapters can be found here Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Y/n POV

The crown prince did not seek her out, but he kept to his promise the few times they did come upon each other. Thranduil was more courteous and respectful, even going so far as to instruct Feren to discreetly see to her welfare.

Feren called on her whenever time permitted, always asking brief questions about how she found life in the palace and how she was being treated by the others. Y/n answered as honestly as she could, and then the crown prince’s steward would take his leave of her before others saw and tongues wagged. One day, he even asked to see the bruise along her wrist. His lips curled in distaste upon seeing it, but he said not a word. Y/n considered it strange but kept her own counsel.  

He called on her again tonight, and he departed only after pressing a glass phial containing a thick, pale ointment into her hands. Nitiel had seen them, and the phial that had been placed on the little table that was used for the cutting of vegetables and herbs and fruits. She swore to guard her tongue.

“Arnica.” She removed the cork and breathed in the scent after Feren took his leave of them. “Comfrey.” She smelled it a second time, and a third. “Yarrow. For bruises.” The cook put the cork back in the phial and regarded y/n with barely disguised curiosity. “You are full elf. Your parents were born in the Blessed Realm, no less. Why would you need such a thing?”

I suppose my secret would not remain a secret for long, y/n told herself. She lifted the sleeve covering her left arm and revealed the still-healing bruise along her wrist. It was now a strange shade of yellow, but y/n considered it an improvement on the black and blue and purple from before.

“This is why,” she replied, sitting down on a chair. 

Nitiel took her hand into hers and hissed softly. “How did you get this?”

“I… I would rather not say.” Y/n thought it would not be wise to reveal what took place between her and the crown prince that day in the gardens. Nitiel had proven herself to be a kindly woman, but y/n believed the revelation could still go badly against her if she said anything. Thranduil was well loved by his father’s people.

“You would rather not say,” Nitiel repeated. She studied y/n keenly, determined to learn more. Then she sighed and let go of her hand, as if she had changed her mind. “Well, this ointment is not going to apply itself. Give that clean cloth to me; we need to get this done before anyone else sees it.”

It did not take them long to apply the ointment and cover it with a thin strip of dressing. They talked while Nitiel went about her task, and they talked while y/n helped her make supper for the servants. The others were away, clearing the dishes in the great feasting hall above them, leaving them alone. The cook had so many questions about life before the War of Wrath, about life in Nargothrond and Himring, and about the sons of Fëanor themselves.

“They say your father had hopes of you marrying one of Lord Fëanor’s unwed sons.” Nitiel dusted flour onto a thin slab of wood and rolled out the dough she had prepared for a wild-berry pie. In the hearth nearby, a stew bubbled away in its copper pot. The pie would be brought to the table much later, but the stew would be served as soon as it was done, along with thin, flat disks of bread and muled wine. Even in the kitchens, everyone ate and drank well. “They say you even met some of them. Pray what were they like?”

Y/n reached for a sharp knife and began to peel new potatoes for the stew. “Lord Maedhros was everything the songs made him out to be,” she began. Peelings fell without a pause onto a kitchen cloth she had laid out on the table. “But he looked so worn, as if the burdens of the oath were beginning to weigh heavily on his shoulders. Lord Maglor looked no different, but his eyes were softer, and kinder. Of the twins, we saw little. They were always abroad, hunting, and had little time for politics or council meetings.”

“Lord Caranthir?” Nitiel asked, crossing to the other side of the kitchen. She reached into a cupboard that had been mounted onto the wall for a pie pan. 

Y/n stopped peeling. “He kept to himself mostly, and he always looked so angry with the world. Lord Curufin, on the other hand, did not keep to himself.” She returned to her task—wild carrots this time. Thin orange flakes fell over thin brown ones, and she found the sound of it all rather soothing. “And his tongue was as deadly as a scorpion’s tail. Many took care to avoid its sting.”

Nitiel shivered. “And Lord Celegorm?”

Y/n stopped again. Out of all the brothers, Celegorm stood out the most in her eyes. Almost as tall as Maedhros and just as fair, he was a maiden’s dream-made flesh. More than one lord’s as well, if the rumors of his many appetites were true.

“Captivating,” she said. “Others would gather around him at many a feast like moths drawn to a flame. He knew how to drink. How to eat. How to laugh. No matter the hardship, Lord Celegorm always knew how to laugh. He was an elf who was as wild and free as the Vala he once served. And he was dangerous. Yes.” She carried the vegetables to a clean bowl of water to wash. “He was dangerous. More dangerous than all of his brothers put together.”

“You make it sound like he was comfortable being drenched in blood and gore.”

“That is the thing. He was.”

“And it is best if the two of you are not heard discussing them.” Angon stood by the open door, his arms crossed, his countenance full of worry. The women were startled. They did not know he was there. Y/n bowed her head out of respect. “Not even here. Not even amongst yourselves,” he continued. “These walls have ears. Do you understand?”

The king, thought y/n, he must have spies everywhere.

And y/n believed the need for hidden eyes and ears may have been due to her. Still, she decided not to dwell on it, for it would only distress her if she did. She smiled and lifted the lid of a glazed jar instead, saying, “Came for more tarts, my lord?”

Angon threw his head back and laughed. “You know me so well.” He joined them and made himself as comfortable as possible in the chair Nitiel pulled out for him. Angon was every inch a warrior, all tall and proud and fierce, and the chair only helped emphasize his great height and size. Today he was garbed in the deep forest green robes he often favored. Nitiel once said the color brought out the green in his eyes. “Yes. I am not ashamed to admit that I have indeed come in search of more sweets. Though I must confess, my fair lady’s kisses are far sweeter.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, my love,” Nitiel countered, blushing. “But I suppose it would serve just this once. Now stay here and make yourself content with what I place in front of you.”

They talked again, this time of Angon and Nitiel’s plans for the future and of Nitiel’s new role, now that she was the wife of a high-born elven lord. There was no queen for her to serve as a lady-in-waiting; Thranduil’s mother, along with many others, departed for the Blessed Realm after the Elder King’s herald, Lord Eönwë, invited them to do so. There was no princess, either. Thranduil had no sisters, or brothers, for that matter. Oropher, Angon said, had decided that Nitiel would aid his own steward until Thranduil took a wife. Then she would serve her as a lady-in-waiting. 

“Father and mother have also come around,” he announced, his eyes filled with a great sense of relief. Marriage without the blessings of either side of the family was always received ungraciously, and this was a good sign. “They agreed to welcome you properly into the family. Three nights from tomorrow, my love. Many of our kin are gathering for a small feast. The king agreed to attend as well, along with the crown prince.”

The pie pan and all that it held shook in Nitiel’s hands. She barely held on to it, saving it from falling and spilling its contents all over the polished stone floor. 

“Oh,” she began, flustered. “Oh dear. Your parents… your kin… all those nobles, the king… his son… Y/n, you must help me. Please. My clothes, my hair… so much… so much…”

Angon was the first to reach her, leaving his seat without so much as a sound. “Sit here, my love,” he said, guiding her to the nearest chair and taking the pan out of her hands. “And breathe.”

“Should I fetch her some wine?” Y/n asked, equally as concerned as he was. Nitiel was pale and was clutching desperately onto his hand while she tried to compose herself.

“Wine is the last thing she needs right now,” Angon returned. He left the pan on the side and began to rub Nitiel’s shoulders. “Fetch her some water, my lady. Or that chamomile tea, if there is any of it left. Nitiel needs a little time to rest. That is all.”

“I will help you,” y/n promised. She prepared a fresh pot of chamomile tea while Angon fussed over his wife. “With your hair, your clothes, everything. Now drink this,” she urged after she came back to them, and pressed a warm cup into Nitiel’s hand. “You will feel much better after.”

tags: @deadlymistletoe@lemonivall@coopsgirl@tigereyesf@thranduilseyebrows​ @cupids-got-me​ @jane0error@asianbutnotjapanese

[shirefantasies]

The Hobbit Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)

I just love fluff ok and, say it with me, I did this for LoTR 😁 (you can think of the older characters’ as being set when you guys are younger, not during book/film events 😊)

Warnings: conception mentions, some implications of infertility, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms, very long post 😂

Balin

✧ Five years. For five years you had tried. Six you and Balin had been married, happily as anything, but children never came. Your struggles had broken you down, leading you to try all the remedies well-meaning elders and healers alike recommended. Eat more good, strong foods, less of that greasy stuff. Drink this tea, it’s great for women! It’s only a bunch of tiny needles- the pain of birth will be worse anyway. Don’t be so active, let yourself relax for Mahal’s sake, girl! Remedy after remedy, you put your body through it all and put your hands up and prayed. Weeks passed and you had taken ill, attending the healers’ just to get something to ease your nausea, and that was when the questions began. Illness forgotten, you wandered in a grinning daze out of that hall and straight into your husband’s arms. When he chuckled and asked what this was all about, all you could do was snuggle into his chest deeper and whisper “It’s finally happened.”

✧ Such years leant of course to Balin being a bit extra protective of you. You often chastised him, good-naturedly of course, that he hovered so over you, and every time he would simply kiss you and say "That's right".

✧ It brought you both to tears when you began showing, when your condition had persisted long enough to be real, to last beyond the known months of danger. Forehead pressed against yours, your husband held you tightly and warmly for some amount of minutes you did not know, but minded not at all. Balin's words of love and reassurance were as music to your ears.

✧ Hormones confound you some days, pulling you from peace to ruin in mere moments, but Balin is always there with warm arms and wise words, reminding you that whatever you may think, you will never be alone.

✧ The one time during your entire pregnancy that you saw Balin cry was the day you brought home a tiny red coat that looked just like his and showed it to him with pride glowing in your eyes.

✧ He is so calm during all the worst sides of your condition, standing right by you through the good, the bad, and the ugly and dusting and cleaning you off each and every time. "We fought hard for this," he reminds you, "And I'll keep fighting with you every step of the way."

Dwalin

✧ You had wanted children all your life, certainly, and you'd seen Dwalin around them a few times, but what would he say? Your husband was a renowned warrior, hardened in the face of blood and steel and tolerant of no foolishness. But still he went soft as clay when his beloved wife fell into his arms. Thus that night you softened him up but good with all the great food and affection you could muster, so much that you had him remarking what a wonderful home he'd been blessed with. "And would you be willing to share it?" At that, your husband rose from his chair, hands tensing at his sides. "You don't mean-" "I do," you nodded. Without warning, you were swept up into Dwalin's arms, hoisted gently into the air with a giggle. "Just when I thought Mahal couldn't bless me any more! My beautiful wife, with child."

✧ Cue the two of you bickering back and forth like, well, a married couple, about who the child is going to look like. "I'll have 'em look just like you, thanks." "I for one relish in the thought of toting around a miniature Dwalin." "Come now," your husband teases back, running a hand over his shaven, tattooed head, "If they look like you they'll have better hair!"

✧ Dwalin has tiny wooden swords and axes made in time for your little arrivals, ensuring the axes match his to a tee.

✧ He sleeps flush against you now, head leaned against your growing belly and one hand firmly atop it like a lovely little line of defense.

✧ You have him absolutely wrapped around your finger, even more so now. Bat your eyelashes at him and make any request and he melts like butter. You’ll never want long for anything you crave!

✧ Admittedly he knows very little of a woman’s workings, but the moment he hears all your explanations he dubs you as great a warrior as he! “Beautiful as the stars and strong as the mountains to boot! That’s my girl.”

Thorin

✧ He has waited so long for this. So many years of this hanging pressure and yet when he has you by his side, all the feeling of necessity behind trying fades away. You two can simply enjoy life. So when you return to Thorin's side one day, eyes brimming with tears, all you say to him is "It's happened". And with that you see your king, your husband, collapse as if his whole body is sighing, pulling you into him like he needs you to breathe. One hand reaches up to hold the back of your head, gently caressing your hair.

✧ Vows every day that he will protect you both, be the father and husband you deserve, taking your hands in his and then leaning down to address both his queen and your child.

✧ Thorin also assures you that despite what any members of the court say, your new addition will be equally loved and equally worthy of the throne whether you welcome a son or a daughter. "All I wish is a healthy child with their mother's heart." "And their father's good looks," you tease in response, pulling your husband in for a kiss.

✧ You begin stealing his clothes, stating that his tunics are so much more comfortable than your dresses with an innocent bat of your eyelashes that has Thorin relenting every single time, heart rent at the way they begin fitting you tighter.

✧ You see a different side of Thorin in this stage of your marriage, one you’ll never complain about, not when he softens so, gazes down upon you with such love as he hovers over you, kissing your lips, your neck, your belly.

✧ There is no denying that you both glow during this time, pride and joy illuminating Thorin’s features right alongside the radiance of your childbearing state. Everyone stops you to say what a beautiful couple you are and you cannot help the flush of heat that rises to your face as Thorin thanks them and guides you away from the crowd, a protective hand on the small of your back

Oin

✧ Predicts it before you even realize because you’re exhibiting all the telltale symptoms; annoyed as you may be by his insistence that you are with child, what do you know? Oin is right. Oin is, unfortunately, also quite smug about this. Once the initial triumph wears off, though, he’s shouting for joy and crushing you with a hug!

✧ The absolute dream husband to have when you're with child, for he has worked taking care of countless dwarrowdams in your condition. He knows what you need. He understands. And most importantly, he does not judge.

✧ In fact, you two get a kick out of poking fun at the other husbands who roll their eyes at their wives' demands or take shots at their cravings because, frankly, that could never be you. "He doesn't know her body needs more iron!" "I bet he moans and groans about grabbing her a pillow, too."

✧ Having married such a well-known dwarrow, you’ll have all manner of strangers approaching you with congratulations that you reluctantly just accept, correctly assuming they’re patients of Oin’s that he’s proudly blabbed to.

✧ He’s always asking you to guess if you’re having a boy or a girl, insisting that “‘tis the mother’s intuition, after all.”

✧ You insist on remaining on your feet as long as possible, and your husband does not protest, knowing that exercise is good for the baby. That doesn’t mean he won’t be right behind you to catch you if you fall or check on your precious little bump, though, of course.

Gloin

✧ Not so subtle in his so-called 'baby fever', your husband has been going on and on about how his child will be his little flame, the apple of his eye, his world. You have no fear, then, sharing the news, in fact you amuse yourself by dropping your state in conversation like the plainest fact. "I'm glad you've got those new blankets, dear, what with the baby coming in winter and all," you told Gloin, taking a sip of your tea. Deafening is the only word you can use to describe the roar of celebration he gives, wonderfully bone-crushing and teeth-rattling your embrace and kiss.

✧ Tackles you to bed almost every night the first week, covering your cheeks and belly alike with kisses.

✧ Spends that very same time period sharing with absolutely any soul who even remotely listens that he’s going to be a father!

✧ Gloin is very insistent upon your care, even taking it upon himself to make your meals by hand. Which, suffice it to say, is a bit disastrous the first few times but he emerges triumphant in the end and succeeds in filling you with all the hearty things your budding dwarrowling needs!

✧ Being married to a dwarf means you have a husband who absolutely adores the extra pounds you put on and has no qualms about showing you in and out of the bedroom! Even just stopping by the market he’ll be wrapped around you.

✧ Encourages the baby every time they kick, shouting out praise of their strength while you tell him to cool it, all those kicks are going to you!

Bifur

✧ A large part of him thought that he would never be able to experience fatherhood. Not since the injury, and that had happened at such a young age. You cut right through that fear, assured Bifur that he would be an amazing father regardless of if he did some things differently. And that he would soon see, for your family would be growing early the next year.

✧ In all honesty, you feel blessed to have a husband who signs, for your baby will likely be able to communicate early! When you tell Bifur this he breaks out into tears, for what an angel you are to see the beauty in him. Every side of him. He promises to do the same.

✧ And make good on that does he! You will never want for love for even on your illest days Bifur is right by your side, his caresses gentle and speaking volumes of adoration.

✧ Absolutely adores jumping into the bath with you! His excuse being he has to help you and may as well rinse his beard off, but you can see how eager he is to run his hands over your hair and see the way your body relaxes at his cleansing touch. He wants nothing more than to feel useful, needed, and you assure him you cannot do this without him.

✧ Again and again, in fact, on the days when he stands behind you, holding up your burden and cheering you with little jokes and flirtation in Khuzdul even as you are overcome with exhaustion.

✧ Proudly tells everyone who will listen that he’s got a little warrior in there whenever the baby kicks!

Bofur

✧ You hadn’t exactly been trying. You hadn’t exactly been not trying, either. The news comes to you through a haze, muffled by the great rush of other thoughts bombarding your mind and sending your heart beating, but at their heart comes the image of Bofur holding a little one and bouncing them upon his knee and your chest flutters and soars. Your visit is completed all in smiles, and upon returning him to your husband’s questioning about the flu you’ve gone in for, you tell him it likely will not go away until the end of the year. “The end of the year? Why ever that long? I’ve never heard of a flu like that, not even-” “‘tisn’t a flu, my darling,” you smirk at him, “it’s a baby.” “A- you’re- we’re gonna have a-” Bofur is all agape, stepping closer and hovering his hands over your middle like he doesn’t want to grip you in a way that breaks you. “That all right?” You ask, half-teasing, for he has recently confided in you his envy of Bombur’s family. “All right? Song of my heart, I could kiss you!” “Well, what’s stopping you?”

✧ If you thought Bofur was affectionate before, well Mahal be with you, for you haven't seen anything yet! He falls even more in love with your body knowing it's carrying his and your child, hands nearly always holding or roaming you. When you're out and about, your husband usually has a hand at the small of your back, supporting the weight you carry as you walk and running soothingly up and down. Kisses all over your belly in private.

✧ This lends to how quick your husband is to reassure you on days you don't feel so friendly with your body, those times when you'd like nothing more than to shatter the looking-glass. "All I see," Bofur tells you one day, a hand on each of your shoulders as you peer together, "Is the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my lucky eyes upon, and she's not got an easy job. If I were her, I'd be proud of myself. Proud of making a comfortable home for our little one. And if I was her husband, why, I'd take her as she is right here and now! Right nice for me I am her husband, eh?"

✧ “Imagine havin’ a little girl.” Lying side by side, you heard Bofur’s wistful tone and felt a small smile creep onto your lips. “I’ll do her hair up in braids and tie them with ribbons. She’ll have all the pretty things she wants, because I have mine right here,” he adds, turning over to caress your belly and pull your lips into his.

✧ Marrying a toymaker comes with distinct perks: your husband crafts the most magnificent little wheeled contraptions and carven animals for your new addition! He spends hours carving and glazing them, and sometimes you catch him having fallen asleep at his workbench when you struggle to stay in dreamland, covering him up with a spare blanket.

✧ You worry because the baby doesn’t seem to move much, but Oin confirms everything seems to be going fine. “Your wee bairn just got this one’s personality, it seems!” He jokes, stabbing a mock-accusatory finger Bofur’s way.

Bombur

✧ A baker's dozen. For as long as you've known him, that's how many wee ones Bombur purported wanting. Thirteen more than most dwarves have, you always tease him, but in reality every time you see your sweet husband with children and hear him dream of a family your heart leaps. That is why the moment you take his hands and tell him it's come true is special, intimate, a quiet draw in and out of breath that has him sobbing joyously and nuzzling into your embrace with so much love your chest bursts from the flight of it.

✧ Sixth senses never seemed real to you until you became pregnant and it was like Bombur knew what you were craving and was making it before you could even say anything!

✧ Cannot keep away from you. Always wants to be kissing you and cupping your cheeks and holding your hands, just so so sweet!

✧ Bombur is so much more good-natured than you, for all the jokes about how you'll be as big as him soon have you swinging, but he just holds you back and laughs alongside them, saying he's looking forward to it with a twinkle in his eye.

✧ Literally baffled if you ever feel bad about your body; his legitimate confusion alone halfway snaps you out of the sad reverie, and all the following words about your beauty and your husband's appreciation of every inch does the rest.

✧ "You know I'll keep you safe, right? Both of you," he tells you one day, a hand resting upon your bump, "I may not be some great warrior, but Mahal help anyone who comes between us."

Dori

✧ From even before you were actually wed you knew that Dori would be an excellent father. Having taken care of his younger brothers from quite an early age, he had knowledge atop a naturally caring personality you fell for. Gentlemanly Dori waited with you, keeping chaste until after your wedding, but once it is official you know your news could come at any time and you accept that. On your one-year anniversary, in fact, your first gift to Dori is the tiniest bracelet of fine amber beads. “Does this mean…?” As soon as he sees you nod, Dori is taking you in his arms, cradling you gently as if you were made of fine porcelain and thrice as precious.

✧ Caring father-to-be. A little too caring. "If those are too heavy for you, I can carry them!" "They're just books, I'll be alright, Dori." "Oh, don't eat that, you got sick last time." "I haven't been sick in a month!" "That's a lot of steps, should I carry you?" "...Actually, sure."

✧ Always sleeps with his arm wrapped around your middle. No exceptions.

✧ Has every manner of tea and remedy you could desire on hand or otherwise purchases it. Same goes for supplies- Dori even found a ring-shaped cushion for you to lay on! He has your back for any ailment and is often there to make or apply your cure himself. After all, he wouldn't trust anyone else to do it!

✧ You love this dwarf with all your heart. He takes it upon himself to find dwarrowdams willing to let him practice changing diapers on their wee bairns and surprises you with this newfound skill when you return home one day!

✧ Dori’s love of the finer things absolutely carries over into his future fatherhood, as he has the loveliest little velvet clothes made and procures the dearest little bejeweled hairbrush. All in all, both of you amass far more than you need because any time you go out it inevitably devolves into you two clasping your joined hands between each other, gushing over all the wee things, and taking them home!

Nori

✧ He never thought he would get married at all, let alone have a family, but as time goes on the desire to continue his lineage and finally settle down takes hold. Then suddenly there he is desperately trying to seduce you into trying for a little one! It doesn't take long, not with his charm, until the day comes when you teasingly tell him that he got his way. Smirking until the realization takes hold of him, his arms are then snaking around your waist to pull you close.

✧ Always talking about how he's going to teach his little one everything he knows. When pressed about it, responds with such things as fighting and picking locks. His defense? "What if 'e gets stuck somewhere, or-"

✧ Impatient! "When am I gonna be able to feel 'em?" He asks, a hand upon your belly, which has yet to display any changes. "Not for another few months, Nori! I haven't even begun to show!"

✧ Hides things sometimes or puts them up places you can't go just so he can swoop in and help you, saving your day and pressing a kiss to your cheek as he tells you he can handle it, don't you worry your pretty little head.

✧ Nori always teases you when he pours himself a drink. "Bet you'd like some of this, huh? Not for three more months!" He chuckles. Your brows furrow. "Three months? What about when I'm feeding?" "What does tha- oh. Does that really-" "Yes, yes it does." "By the stars, I could have got my baby drunk!"

✧ Talks to the baby quite a bit, especially when he finally can feel the kicks. "Where you running off to, huh?" He chuckles, feeling the flutters against his hand pick up. "That's 'cause of me, isn't it? You hear me? That's right, it's your da. Can you believe it? Me, your da! I'll take good care of you, you hear?"

Ori

✧ "Ori, dear," you implored your husband, "Might you knit something for me?" Looking up from the scarf he'd just finished, Ori's eyes fell upon you and he gave that smile, the special one reserved just for you. "Of course. What would you like?" "A wee pair of booties," you replied, hands clasped and expression dreamy. "Who needs booties?" He asked, head cocked. "We will in the fall," you answered, stepping closer and resting a hand upon his. Ori's jaw dropped. "You... I... We-" Smile widening, you nodded. "I. You. We," you agreed.

✧ Nearly from the first day you know you are with child, Ori is rattling off names. After tossing out a great deal, he finally pauses and gives a sheepish apology. "I'm sorry, I suppose I've thought about this a lot," he confesses with a grin, "I just can't believe it's happening." Your hand joins with his, resting over your little bump. "Neither can I. It's like a dream."

✧ "So," you ask Ori one day, leaning your chin upon the couch where you'd lain, "What should our plan be for when my water breaks?" Your husband's brows furrow. "When your what?" "Oh, no," you mutter. Cue Ori spending his afternoon receiving a great multitude of lessons. What he got for being raised by other dwarf men, you suppose. "That really all happens to you?" He asks, gaping at you as though you came of the Valar themselves. "Yes, it does. Birth is a great deal of work. They don't just run on out, you know!" "Yes, I know. Of course I know." Ori's voice is faint; he excuses himself and you assume it's to faint or be sick, but about an hour later he returns bearing gifts. "I'm sorry I'm putting you through all that." "Sweetheart," you chuckle, cupping his cheek, "You know it takes two, right?" Your sweet husband reddened, but he nodded.

✧ Ori takes on almost all the cleaning himself- you haven't even asked! Finally curiosity gets the better of you and you inquire as to why he's gotten so into housekeeping. "Well, aren't you tired?" He asks simply, innocently, and you wonder how you got so lucky.

✧ He also knits far more than that pair of booties you requested- all three of you will have matching sweaters before your little one has arrived!

✧ Ori's favorite thing in the world is sitting with you in his lap, one hand cradling your growing bump and the other holding a book as you two take turns reading aloud, filling your cozy hollow with the sounds of voices your little one will come to love. The books are hand-drawn, written, and bound by him, of course!

Fili

✧ You two speak of little ones so much it borderline infuriates the others, Kili himself even bursting out in frustration one day at yet another interruption about tiny clothes, "Just get her pregnant already!" "Good idea. See you later," Fili replies, scooping you up and carrying you off bridal-style. "Wait, I- Damn, brother..." In reality, Fili just carried you around the corner and set you down while you two burst out laughing, but about a month later your tries were in fact successful!

✧ Honeyed words were no trouble for your husband before, but now? Praise falls endlessly from his lips. "Never did I think you could get more beautiful, and yet each day you succeed beyond my wildest dreams."

✧ Fili has a near-magical sense for your new struggles of coordination, all but flying to your side to catch your hand or waist whenever you trip or even whenever you must rise up again from your seat!

✧ He loves to tease you, asking what disgusting thing you'll think of him to fix next or joke that he can finally beat you in a fight in this state, but every joke is punctuated by the most loving eyes and gestures that they cannot do a thing but warm your heart and make you chuckle.

✧ Your baby is very active, kicking all the time! "We've definitely got a little Fili in here!" Your husband exclaims with a grin, hand resting atop your belly to feel your little one's exuberant motions. "A strong babe for sure," you sigh, "Much to the pity of my ribs!" "Too bad we aren't having a Kili. Nice and lazy for you." "Hey, I heard that!"

✧ He turns his head, peering over his shoulder at you as you waddle after him, golden hair cascading down. "Care for me to slow down a little?" "I care for you to shut up," you shoot back, crossing your arms and fighting your smile.

Kili

✧ The thought crossed your mind far before it did your husband's. Not that Kili had no desire for children, it was simply that the possibility was all the more yours to consider. It took a visit from your young cousin, who had Kili wrapped around your finger, for the fire to light in your husband's head as well, a smile lighting up his face. "We- we could..." "I know, Kili." You could and you certainly did but a few months later.

✧ "I hope they look just like you." "Me too." Kili pulls his head out of the crook of your neck. "Hey, that is the part where you say 'no, I hope they look like you'!" "I'm doing the work of carrying for how long again? Nine, ten months? Least they can do is resemble me a little," you shoot back with a smirk.

✧ It was Oin who brought the news: "Both babies seem healthy as far as I can tell!" "Both?" You gape. "Both babies?" "'s right," Oin replies, "I know I can't always hear the best, but I haven't been wrong on a heartbeat yet. You can feel 'em." "Guess we did pretty good, eh love?" Kili teases, earning him an elbow to the ribs, but he just shakes his head and tugs you closer against his chest. "Should we make their names confusing as well?" "Don't you think it might get old for them?" "Fili and I switched names plenty of times and we aren't even identical!" You should have known.

✧ Kili takes to sleeping facing you, close enough that sometimes your cheeks brush. Others he slips down lower and you awake with your husband cuddled up to the bump of your belly.

✧ Will come running from any room, anywhere, to feel the babies kick, and also loves tugging along any of his family he can take, too. Childlike wonder fills your husband's eyes every time and pride glistens in his dark eyes when he's brought along his mother, his brother, even his uncle the king!

✧ Never once do you doubt yourself or have one moment of room for insecurity, for Kili still flirts with you as if you were tweens and sneaks all sorts of touches, pecks, and affectionate hands in your hair wherever he can find it! The notion of a baby destroying the romance of your relationship is laughable to you, who married a dwarf that has no shame telling you you're the most gorgeous creature to walk the earth and warm his-and the baby's in a different way-body.

Bilbo

✧ Bilbo's a perceptive hobbit. He knows something's off with you. You don't usually scurry around the way you are like everything has to be perfect. That's his job. "Something the matter? Are you... expecting someone?" Your husband follows you down Bag End's hall as he gives his inquiry, eyebrows shooting up at the look on your face when you turn around. Consternation, resignation, finally a smile. "I was going to tell you after dinner," you answered, "But since you asked it like that, yes I am expecting someone. Our child this spring." At that, it was Bilbo's turn to shift through expressions. Shock, realization, finally a smile.

✧ Nursery shopping has become Bilbo's favorite pastime. Baby Baggins isn't arriving for months and yet your husband is returning from market with all manner of trinkets for the shelves and paper for the walls. You cannot help giggling at his armfuls of supplies and kissing his cheek as you relieve as much of his burden as he allows you to.

✧ So sweet, always helping you dress, pulling on every garment with the utmost of care and even avoiding your reflection on days you feel bad. Quickly kissing each part of your body before he covers it with something he knows will be comfortable.

✧ You'll be eating well whether you like it or not! Bilbo will make you anything under the sun if it means you and Baby Baggins are getting nourishment and he certainly will not have you skimping! Anything that makes you sick simply is not allowed in Bag End at all, end of discussion.

✧ One night, you awake to soft whispers and your heart melts at the sight of Bilbo resting his chin on your growing bump talking to the baby. Not uttering a word, you simply watch, taking in the moment beneath the sheen of tears in your eyes.

✧ "Careful, careful," Bilbo is always telling you, holding your hand and guiding you over the smallest of obstacles, even little puddles and rocks.

Thranduil

✧ He has talked about getting you pregnant before, but speaking of it and doing it are two entirely different things, especially with...well, words of such nature. Thus, you find yourself nervously wringing your hands before your husband as he strokes your face, asking whatever is the matter. At Thranduil's touch, his intense gaze, you fin yourself melting and admitting all, confessing that you are expecting his child. You are certainly not expecting the way his confident smile utterly falters, dissipating in favor of the look of a man near tears. "Truly? A little one of our own?" "Yes," you whisper, finally able to smile as the tension melts from your body, which is soon pulled against the Woodland King's. "Long have I dreamed of this day, my love."

✧ One of his favorite new activities is commissioning you new maternity dresses; you will certainly have plenty to wear if Thranduil has any say about it! In addition, when the time comes of course he requests that you model them for him.

✧ Thranduil loves to sneak up behind you, lightly wrapping his hands about your waist and laying them atop yours, his head resting in the crook of your neck and breathy, pleased laughter warming the skin there.

✧ When you start showing, oh, he loves it. One more sign that you are his, utterly and truly his queen, his beloved, claimed by Thranduil in every sense. He follows your lead, a hand around your waist, letting you shine like the gem he knows you to be. Rarely will you two be seen apart, not when the king can bask in your glow, relish the eyes upon your beautiful form, heavy with his child.

✧ There is one day he catches you in tears and heart tearing he steps to scoop you up against him, cheeks held gently in his elegant hands, which begin to glitter with your tears. "My rings no longer fit," you sob, head falling to his chest. Thranduil holds you close, grip loose as though you might break. "That is not your fault, meleth nîn." "I feel so... so massive." "Who wishes a small dwelling, hm? Piteous thing not to have any comforts. Your body is a host of life, the vessel of a bloodline. Beautiful in all its forms. Never forget that, oh dearest one."

✧ Thranduil is experienced; he knows many little tricks to help you feel better, be they massages or ways to bear your weight. He impresses you with the knowledge he has of the ways of women, understanding your water breaking, dilation, and every complication the healers warn you about and telling you before they even do!

Feren

✧ First to know was neither you nor your husband, but rather your cat, for she had suddenly become your little shadow, following you about your home and taking rest upon your lap as often as she could. "I wonder what it is that got into her," you commented one afternoon, smiling and stroking her back. "Growing up, ours got like this when my mother was carrying my younger sisters. Both times. It was like he could sense it," Feren replied. You both sat in smiling silence for a moment longer before simultaneously straightening, looking each other right in the widening eyes.

✧ Gets a little flustered, frankly. Not so much at your news itself, simply the realization sinking in that he is to be a father. He, Feren, will have a child. He says this out loud several times before suddenly breaking out into a smile. You tease him for going through half his emotions at once, but now the wave of joy has swept him up!

✧ Playfully rolls his eyes and mock-complains every time you remind him that he has to clean up after the cat now! Subsequently adds that he would fetch you the moon if you asked it.

✧ Loves helping you bathe the more difficult your condition makes it, scrubbing your hair with such care and gently massaging your sore feet and ankles as you wash up. Despite your husband's skill in battle, Feren's hands are the most loving and delicate you could ask for.

✧ Your husband has a natural tendency to rise early, so now that your sleep has become more fitful you do find that you have more time to spend together. Your head falling to his shoulder as you whisper to each other, seated as you are upon your bed with blankets draped over your shoulders.

✧ Feren wins your heart time and time again, like the day he lowered you down gently onto the grass of a sunny meadow, basking with you and weaving flowers. He made you a ring, crowned you with a wreath of flowers atop your head, and made another little one to place gently on the curve of your belly, bringing your heart to soar.

Bard

✧ Uncertainty wracks your heart and wrings your hands at the would-be-cheerful news. In fact, you yourself do feel joy, have since your suspicions were confirmed, but would Bard see it the same way? He already has three mouths to feed, three children all old enough to take care of themselves. Will he wish to start it all over so? "What's wrong, love? Your lip is bleeding." So it is. You've practically gnawed the poor thing off in all your stewing. A sigh escapes you. Bard is your husband. No sense in delaying a very necessary conversation. "I know we should have spoken more about it..." You begin, trailing off. At once, Bard senses your reservation and rises to your side, taking hold of your arms; the love in his dark eyes brings a small smile to your lips and relaxes you slightly. "I'm with child, Bard." Almost childlike is the wonder and joy spreading across your face, and before you can say another word you are being pulled into Bard's chest, face snuggling into the fur of his coat.

✧ He knows what to expect, naturally, so Bard is definitely not the type of husband to gripe about your requests, though he does smirk and poke fun if you’re especially outrageous with it or have a funny enough delivery. Then kisses you if you pout about it before fetching what you seek.

✧ Caution overtakes you and your husband as you make to tell his older children the news, particularly you, but your wringing hands relax when you can see the joy in their eyes, particularly the girls! They hope the baby is another girl, hugging you so tight you almost cannot breathe, but you complain not.

✧ Happy is Bard to take on assistance cooking; he knows it can make you sick sometimes and besides, it's a nice excuse to make sure you get all the nutrients you need! You are certainly very lucky in the skill and domesticity of your spouse.

✧ Stands behind you and reaches his arms around you, lifting up the weight you carry and smiling, kissing your neck and cheeks as you relax from your burden.

✧ He also has no qualms about making you rest, down even to physically lifting you up and carrying you to bed if he must!

Beorn

✧ Hesitant as he always would have claimed to be about bringing more Skin-Changers into a world so cruel to them, Beorn feels his nesting instincts kick in very quickly after you become his wife. You see it in the things he gathers, the way your husband moves things such as your blades to higher, safer locations. He is anticipating something. Something you cannot help pulling him aside and asking about, and when your feelings on the subject are made known, well, it is entirely possible you conceived that very night.

✧ Beorn has an almost eerie sense for all the changes taking place in your body. You feel a sharp pain in your back, and without a word your husband is behind you, ushering you down for a massage with some of the oils he's pressed.

✧ The aforementioned nesting instincts manifest early on, your husband carefully blunting corners and tucking away the best blankets so the little one-or ones!- will be nothing but safe and comfortable.

✧ Withdrawn as he could be, Beorn's affection is drawn out by your condition, his big brown eyes soft upon you as he pulls you into his lap, large hands secure about your waist and sliding gently up and down your growing belly.

✧ And grow it does! It seems to get heavier by the day, but that is explained thanks to your husband's exceptional hearing. "Four heartbeats. One is yours. A litter- three are coming!" Spots dance in your vision at that news, but Beorn's smile as he grips your hand brings you back to the light. You could do it with him by your side. "Our little litter."

✧ He attempts to reassure you anytime your anxiety grows. "My dearest flower, I have delivered hundreds of calves and piglets in my day! You will see this through." Reassuring? Perhaps not so much. But in your heightened emotion, that does break you into a wild laughter that does indeed relax you nonetheless.

Want to meet the little ones? Perhaps there will be a Part 2 😉

Taglist: @lokilover476 @kilibaggins @fuckyoumakeart @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🩷

[queenstarlight2]

Please do an imagine for Feren; if you need an idea how about the reader being a nymph and helps heal Greenwood so he so yandere because they are perfect in his eyes. btw I love your writing! and I'm so happy your back!! 💕

What a creature (2K)

Feren the military captain, departed with a group of his trust-elven warriors group to investigate a disturbance at the edge of his king’s kingdom.

Upon arrival at the scene, Feren the leader encouraged his trusted elven warrior's group to tread lightly until they figured out what was going on.

As the group approached cautiously, Feren’s elf eyes could make out someone in the distance. Feren signaled for his soldiers to stop while carefully moving ahead toward the stranger alone. As he approached, he was struck by the stranger’s striking beauty seemingly young, delicate appearance.

Feren was taken aback by the stranger's ethereal and otherworldliness, he was captivated by her presence. He couldn't help but approach her, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He came to a halt a few feet in front of her before speaking with a soft and gentle tone.

"Who are you?"

As Feren observed the stranger more closely, he noticed a faint aura of otherworldliness surrounding her, and as he turned to his surroundings, he realized she was using magic of some kind to heal the damaged and infected areas of Mirkwood forest. Taken aback by this, Feren couldn't help but take another step back before he spoke again.

"What… What are you doing to my king's forest?"

Feren's expression shifted between caution and awe as he observed the woman's actions. He didn't know if she was friend or foe, but something about her didn't seem threatening, and he was intrigued. He studied her further and noticed that she was much younger than he had first thought, perhaps even younger than he was, but her magic held a certain undeniable power.

As Feren stood before the young girl, his initial caution slowly melted away, replaced by a growing curiosity and fascination. Seeing the magic that she wielded, even to undo some of the damage to his king's precious forest, he also felt a strange sense of attraction towards the girl.

The more he thought about it, the more he found himself entranced by her. He could feel an unfamiliar fluttering in the pit of his stomach and butterflies in his chest as he looked at her.

After a few moments of awkwardly standing there staring at each other, the girl finally spoke up. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, and there was a tinge of nervousness in it. The girl nervously played with a strand of her ethereal hair, trying to avoid eye contact with Feren. "I-I'm sorry," she said, her tone gentle. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I was just trying to heal some of the damage here in the forest."

Feren's initial stiffness melted away as the girl spoke up. He noticed her nervous mannerisms, the way she avoided eye contact and the gentle tone of her voice. Rather than feeling threatened, he found himself oddly enamored. He took a step closer to her, his expression softer and more attentive.

He held up a hand to stop his soldiers from interfering and gestured for them to stay back. He then turned his focus back to the girl. "It's alright," he assured her gently. "You didn't frighten me. I was just… surprised."

He took another step forward, standing directly in front of her now. He couldn't help but find himself captivated by her ethereal beauty. Her gorgeous hair, her delicate features, and the aura of magic surrounding her all seemed to draw him in. Despite her youth, she radiated a power that intrigued him. He chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving her face. "You're just a young girl. Where did you come from? And how do you have such magic at your disposal?"

The girl's nervousness seemed to slightly ease as Feren spoke to her with a gentle, non-threatening tone. She mustered up the courage to answer his questions, but her voice still held a hint of shyness.

"I-I'm not just a young girl," she replied, her voice soft and delicate. "I'm a nymph. We are… magical beings, connected with nature. My magic allows me to heal and maintain the balance of the forest."

Feren's eyes widened in surprise at her revelation. Nymphs were elusive creatures, living in harmony with nature and possessing powerful magic. For one to be in Mirkwood forest was both intriguing and unexpected. He took another step forward, his tall, muscular frame towering slightly over her petite form. There was a mix of fascination and caution in his expression, as if suddenly aware of the potential power she held. "A nymph…" he repeated, almost incredulously. "I've never met one before."

He took a moment to study her more closely, his gaze roaming over her slight form, the soft features of her face, and the strange markings on her arms. Seeing the magic aura surrounding her, he realized he was in the presence of something extraordinary. Involuntarily, he found himself taking yet another step closer to her. He was now standing mere inches away from her, almost as if pulled by an invisible force. He tried to maintain his composure, but there was something about her that was irresistibly attractive to him…

Feeling drawn to the nymph, Feren couldn't help but find himself wanting her to stay nearby. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he offered a proposition to her, his voice gentle yet firm. "You seem to have a unique power, a connection to the forest itself," he said, his eyes never leaving her face. "Perhaps you could… come back with us? We could provide you with food and lodging in the kingdom of Mirkwood."

As Feren gazed at the nymph before him, he felt his heart skip a beat. The way she stood there, her slight frame and delicate features, the soft magic aura surrounding her… all of it was irresistibly charming to him. Against his will, his eyes involuntarily softened and his expression turned somewhat sentimental as he looked at her. He took in a breath, his heart fluttering in his chest, and fought the urge to reach out and touch her.

As the nymph smiled gently, Feren found himself completely and utterly smitten with her. Her sweet smile and shy demeanor only served to fuel his growing attraction to her. His thoughts began to spin with possessive thoughts, and a hint of obsession started to grow inside of him. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes never leaving her face as he spoke in a soft, somewhat desperate tone. "Please… will you come with us? I'll make sure you have everything you need, a safe place to stay, anything…"

He took a step closer, closing the remaining distance between them. His eyes searched her face, taking in every delicate feature. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and keep her safe and nearby, where he could protect her and indulge in her presence. His mind was filled with protective and possessive thoughts, a need to have her close and keep her for himself. But he did his best to keep it hidden, maintaining a facade of politeness and restraint.

The moment the nymph agreed to come back to Mirkwood with Feren and his patrol group, his heart practically leaped out of his chest. He couldn't believe his luck, that this incredible creature would now be staying nearby where he could see her every day. As he silently celebrated, his thoughts spiraled into admiration and fixation. He couldn't help but think that she was perfect, a being who could heal Mirkwood forest and his own soul with her mere presence.

As they began the journey back to Mirkwood's kingdom entrance, Feren found himself walking beside the nymph, his eyes often sneaking glances toward her. He couldn't help but be acutely aware of her every move, every sound she made, and every word she said. They walked in silence for a moment before Feren finally spoke up, his voice soft and filled with admiration. "So… um, can I ask your name, little nymph?

She smiled, and spoke kindly to him"I'm afraid my name is a very intimate matter, only for lovers"

The nymph's response left Feren's heart racing. It was a custom that nymphs only give their names to their lovers, a sign of deep intimacy and intimacy. An intimate secret. Feren couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions at that revelation. A part of him wanted to earn the privilege of having her name, to earn her trust and affection. He fought to keep his composure, trying to remain polite as he replied. "I understand… But how shall I address you then?"

The nymph shrugged slightly, her reply both teasing and soft. "You can call me whatever you like," she said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Feren's mind instantly began to race with possibilities, different pet names and affectionate terms swirling in his head. Each one felt so intimate, so personal… It took all his restraint not to blurt one of them out right then and there.

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice as he spoke again. "How about… sweetheart?" he suggested, the term of endearment rolling off his tongue. He glanced at her, waiting for her reaction, hope and anticipation in his eyes.

The nymph chuckled softly, a hint of bashfulness in her voice. "Sweetheart, is it?" she teased, a small smile on her lips. "I suppose it will do, for now at least." Feren let out a quiet exhale, relief and excitement flooding him. As they continued their journey and finally reached the halls of Mirkwood, he couldn't stop stealing glances at her, her every word and gesture sending a thrill through his body.

As time passed, the nymph's magic worked its wonders, slowly healing the infected areas of Mirkwood forest. Feren couldn't help but witness her incredible abilities, further fueling his admiration and fascination for her. With each passing day, Feren found himself falling more and more in love with the nymph. His thoughts were increasingly consumed by her, his heart swelling with an irrational yet intense affection. He yearned for her presence, for her smile, for her touch… For her to be his and his alone.

He began to make subtle changes to ensure her safety and comfort. He assigned his most trusted guards to discreetly watch over her and keep her from harm. He also made sure to frequently check in on her, his presence never far away. He took every opportunity to talk to her, to listen to her, to soak in her presence. His thoughts became increasingly possessive, his infatuation spiraling into an obsessive need to keep her close. The thought of her being with someone else, of her leaving Mirkwood… was unbearable to him.

As his infatuation continued to grow, Feren knew that he wanted to make the nymph's heart his. He began to slowly court her, using any opportunity he had to impress her and show her his affection. He would take her on secret walks through a part of the forest that was especially beautiful at night, he would bring her gifts like rare flowers and shiny stones, and he would engage in long conversations with her, learning everything there was to know about her.

He was never pushy or demanding, though. He knew that winning her affection would take time, and he was patient with her. He was happy just being around her, observing her, listening to her soft voice. But he was also acutely aware of his desires, of the possessive need that burned within him to claim her as his own.

As the days passed, Feren's patience was rewarded one evening when the nymph finally told him her name. The act was a sacred one, signifying her acceptance of him as a lover. Hearing her name, a feeling of utter elation and triumph washed over him. He repeated her name quietly, as if committing it to memory. He didn't want to forget it, ever. He knew now that he was one step closer to having her heart completely.

As the days turned into weeks and months, Feren and the nymph grew increasingly closer. Their love blossomed, becoming a beautiful bond that only grew stronger with time. Feren had always been protective and possessive of the nymph, but now that she had accepted him as her lover, his feelings only deepened. He vowed to always keep her happy, safe, and by his side. Their love story continued a tale of affection and devotion amidst the lush forests of Mirkwood.

[imagine-all-the-elves]

Imagine Feren finding you lost in Mirkwood.

Author: @thatkgrl

Artist: Pavasara-Dvesma

[caedmonofwhitby]

ENGLISH School (York?) 15th century

The Resurrection of Christ c.1450

Alabaster, with traces of polychrome and gilt Christ holds the banner of the Resurrection and steps out of his open tomb to the guards' surprise.

The crowded composition and costume details are very similar to many other versions in alabaster.

So-called 'Nottingham Alabasters' like this one were produced in workshops in the Midlands and Northern England between 1350 and 1550, before the Protestant Reformation.

Alabaster was transported through Hull's medieval port. Works of this type were originally gilded and painted, and were often incorporated into altarpieces.

Large-scale alabaster can still be found in situ in churches in Derbyshire, Nottinghamshire and Yorkshire.

The Ferens' Resurrection in Hull seems to have been later installed in a 19th-century altarpiece for the chapel of the Château at Breuil-Benoît in Normandy, France.

Ferens Art Gallery, Hull

[katt-grek-kytalizia]

this will make your heart skip a beat for sure.....

Wine For Freedom

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22)

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Thranduil x F!Reader, Platonic Bard x Reader

Summary:  The Reader is left with nothing but three bottles of wine after Smaug destroyed Laketown. Stuck in Dale with no plan and no family, she has no idea how she will survive until the Elven King comes to town.

Note: Suggestive material, minors DNI. This started as a one shot and ended up as a full story. You can read the rest on A03.

All Italics are Elvish.

Chapter 1: It Started with a Crate of Wine

I had lived in Laketown all my life, but after the death of my parents, there weren’t many options for me. Many didn’t expect a woman to do more than marry and bear children, but I was determined to make a living for myself. I tried to learn to fish, but the men wouldn’t allow me to do so on their boats with the excuse being it was too much trouble to get a permit from the Master. I couldn’t sew or find anyone willing to teach me in the small town. The only place willing to hire me was the Master's house as a maid and I preferred to stay far away from there.

At a loss of what to do, I had asked Bard if he knew anyone willing to hire me for anything. He mentioned the brewmaster, Jonas, needed help. He had three sons but two were too young to help around the brewery. After much begging, Jonas agreed to let me assist him. He was grateful for the help, and was especially thankful that I was not only a fast learner, but had a knack for the craft. For the past four years, I had been training under the brewmaster in Laketown, not only learning how to make ale, but also wine and liquor alongside him and his sons. Finally, I thought life was going the way it was meant to and I couldn’t have been happier.

After Smaug had destroyed the town, Jonas had tried salvaging what was left of his home. Because of the lack of supplies and space, he had regretfully let me go unsure if he’d ever be able to utilize his trade again. His family had retreated into the remains of Dale with everyone else and left me by the shore. Not knowing what to do, I wandered aimlessly around what remained from Laketown managing to rescue a few bottles of wine that survived and floated to shore. I heard my name being called and looked up from my bottles to see Bard rushing over.

“Oh thank the gods you made it! Are your children alright?” I called out as I rose from my crouched position to meet him.

“Yes, everyone is safe. Are you alright?” He answered. I felt relief at his words knowing Bain, Sigrid, and Tilda were safe.

“Yes, I’m glad to have made it out of there,” I looked over my shoulder at what remained of home. Smoke was still visible from where we stood.

Bard looked down at the shore and saw the wine I saved. Picking up a bottle, he rolled it in his grip. “These are yours?” He questioned.

I nodded. “They survived and floated over. I’m keeping them for now. I could trade them for food. Maybe a blanket.”

Bard’s eyes raked over my soaked and tattered dress and apron with sympathy.

“Don’t worry, you can stay with us,” He decided as he picked up the crate I’d been putting the bottles in.

“I don’t want to be a burden. I can find somewhere-,” I tried to argue, but he would have none of that.

“Y/N, please,” he countered, “You are no burden. We have supplies for tonight and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone.” He paused for a moment. “Did Jonas make it?”

I nodded in response. “His whole family, luckily.”

“And you didn’t go with them?” I knew he was genuinely curious because almost everyone knew I had grown close with the family in my time working with him and his children.

“The future is uncertain and he has his family to care for. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself if I have to.” I tried pulling the crate into my own arms but Bard refused to let go.

“You are not a burden,” he repeated. “We’ve holed up in one of the buildings. It still has a roof. Bain and I will salvage what we can. I ask that you stay with my daughters while we’re out.”

“Thank you, Bard,” I relented and followed him to one of the buildings in the middle of Dale.

The next morning, I awoke between Sigrid and Tilda across from Bain still wrapped in his blanket. I sat up and wrapped mine around the girls. Tilda stirred as I stood back from them. I silently cursed. I hadn’t wanted to wake the children, but I desperately needed some fresh air. Everything that had happened seemed like a blur and I needed to plan my next move. I couldn’t stay with Bard’s family forever as much as I adored them. Bard already had enough to bear on his own. I wouldn’t allow him another burden.

“Where are you going?” Sigrid mumbled sleepily. “Da said to stay here.”

“Just outside. I won’t go far,” I promised.

Seemingly accepting my answer, her head lolled back as she fell back into sleep. I smiled down at her as she curled around Tilda’s smaller form and made my way to the door. I slipped outside shading my eyes from the bright sun. The sharp wind bit at my skin causing me to violently shiver. Pulling my coat tighter around me I walked down toward the center of town looking for Bard.

Suddenly, a white horse turned the corner down the tight alleyway and I slammed myself against the wall to avoid being trampled. Gasping for breath, I looked up as the rider, whom I now realized was an elf, stopped right in front of me.

“My apologies,” he nodded his head before continuing down the path, albeit slower. I watched him ride away still shocked that I was nearly run over. Confused as to what an elf was doing in Dale, I rushed to the square and found more elves amidst carts full of food being handed out to chaotic crowd. Pushed from my original spot as the crowd thickened, I made my way up a set of stairs to continue my search for Bard. I spotted him at the forefront of the group speaking to who I assumed was the Elven King who looked absolutely regal and intimidating upon his elk. His eyes were sharp as they glanced over at the crowd eagerly accepting his aide, face remaining neutral in the chaos.

I scrambled back down the steps and waited off to the side trying to get Bard’s attention. After a few minutes, he came to me with a sack of supplies the elves had brought.

“Take these back to the children and stay there.” He had a grim look on his face which made my stomach clench in dread.

“Bard, what’s going on?” My voice conveyed my worry.

He shook his head in frustration. “There may be war, but I am hoping to avoid it if possible. Go back to the house, and tell no one of what we have spoken of. I will be there as soon as I can.”

Still worried, but trusting Bard, I hurried back to his children evading their questions about their father and the elves. Night fell quickly and the children and I sat huddled around a small fire Bain made. I had Tilda in my arms trying to keep her small body warm. I made sure they ate, but saved enough to ration out so they would not go hungry in the ensuing days. I did not know how long the elves would help.

“Y/n, where is Da?” Tilda questioned me as she sat in my lap.

“He’s with the Elven King. Probably still discussing how much longer they’ll aid us.” I spoke confidently even though I was worried about everything. The thought of war lingered in the back of my mind. How much more loss could we take?

“If they’re here to help us, why did they bring weapons?” Bain muttered angrily.

As I was about to respond, Bard walked through the door. He was breathing heavy as if he had run from the elves’ camp to the house.

“Da!” His children ran from their spots, blankets falling onto the floor, as their arms wrapped around him. I could hear Tilda sniffle as she began to cry and so I went over to comfort her.

“Y/n,” Bard interrupted my movements. “Where is the wine?”

I stopped and then walked to the crate pulling the three bottles out.

“They’re here. Do you need them?” I brought them over to him.

“Yes, thank you. King Thranduil loves his drink. He’s run low. I offered him what he had. I’ll return shortly,” he spoke to his children and took the bottles from my arms. They reluctantly let go of him rushing back to grab their blankets they had dropped.

“I know you were planning to barter these,” he whispered to me. “I will repay you for them.”

Shaking my head, I refused. “You’ve already helped me enough. I want nothing in return.”

He smiled warmly in thanks but I felt he’d try to return the favor anyway.

I expected Bard to return later, long after his children drifted off, but I was surprised when not twenty minutes later he was standing in the door way again. Before I could ask him if everything was alright, he gestured for me to follow him outside. I settled his children before heading to the opened door. There was an elf standing outside the house, the same one that nearly ran me down. He was stoic, like earlier, and his presence unnerved me. Bard quickly pulled me over to him so that we were a few steps away from the elf and facing the door. His worried look did nothing to ease my nerves.

“The wine you had. You did make it, correct?” I nodded dumbly. His face didn’t change.

“The King wants to see you,” his voice was hushed. He set his hands on my shoulders and gripped them tightly.

After a beat, I gasped out, “Why?!” I was absolutely terrified. Had I displeased him? The King had to know we were limited in supplies. It was not like we had Dorwinion wine laying around for him. Bard looked behind me before answering as I felt someone step behind me.

“My lady, we must make haste. King Thranduil is not a patient ellon.” The elf said. “I am to take you to him now.”

“Bard?” Nervous I turned back to him silently asking if he was coming as well.

“I have to stay with the children,” he responded. He gently urged me toward the elf. “Feren will escort you there. Don’t worry,” he whispered the last part.

Reluctantly I followed Feren to the elves’ camp that was erected in a field near the ruins of Dale. I realized I must look a mess after the ordeal we’d been through and I spoke my concerns as we approached the largest tent in the center of the camp. I knew King Thranduil must be in there.

“I am not dressed properly,” I looked down at the shredded ends of my dress, stained with dirt and soot. At least I was dry now.

Without turning to me, Feren responded. “King Thranduil knows of the struggles your people have recently faced and is prepared to see you as you are.”

If I could possibly feel worse, I would. Self-consciously, I started rubbing at my face just in case I had any dirt smudged there. Feren noticed, but said nothing.

We stopped at the flap of the tent where two guards were stationed. Feren spoke to them. He put up a hand for me to wait and then entered the tent. I could hear him speak, but could not make out what he was saying. It was probably Sindarin which I couldn’t understand anyway. Someone else responded and the brunette elf opened the flap back and motioned for me to enter.

Walking into the tent, I was taken aback at how ridiculously ornate everything was. All this comfort for a few days away? My mind was so shaken I didn’t realize Feren was announcing me to the King who sat lounging in his chair staring at me amused. I had already seen him from afar, but this close I could see just how handsome and intimidating he was. He was, by far, the most ethereal being I had ever laid eyes on and I felt my heart race just looking at him. The self-conscious feeling returned and I looked down at my feet to hide my reddened cheeks.

“Leave us,” Thranduil waved his hand and Feren bowed before exiting the tent. Unsure of what to say or do, I just stood there in silence afraid of embarrassing myself further.

“Are you the brewmaster of Laketown?” He asked.

“No, your majesty,” I said softly, still unable to look directly at him.

“No?” He hummed to himself. “Have they sent a tavern maid then?” He was insulting me, but what could I say in retaliation to a king? I decided to just answer honestly and plainly while I was in his tent.

“No, your majesty. I was not the brewmaster, but I trained under him.”

“I see, so you did make this wine then?” He gestured to the table next to him where one of the three bottles Bard had taken sat next to an ornate goblet. Thranduil lifted it to his lips and took a long sip. The sight made me swallow hard.

“Is it not to your taste, your majesty? I apologize as this was all the wine we salvaged from the facility.”

He held up his hand to silence me and took another sip, still watching me. “How long have you trained?”

“Four years,” I summoned the courage to look at him. His eyebrows drew together as he examined me and I fought the urge to look away again.

“You worked in a brewery. Can you make ale as well?” He took a long sip of the wine after asking.

“Yes, that is what we mostly brew and I also make a wicked cider.” I smiled fondly remembering the recipe I’d been working on before Smaug burned the town.

“Wicked cider?” Thranduil sounded amused again and I immediately stumbled over a “Yes, your majesty”.

“Anything else?” He set the goblet back down on the table.

“We were a the only brewery so we made all the alcohol for the town. I can make liquor as well out of, well, out of a few things.” I finished hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions. I just wanted him to explain what he wanted me here for. I opened my mouth to ask, but couldn’t manage to get the words out.

He silenced me again when he stood from his pseudo-throne and towered over me. My head tilted up to meet his gaze. Valar, he was tall.

“A brewmaster, a vintner, and a distiller all wrapped in one package, hmm? Quite impressive for such a young girl,” Thranduil teased, tilting his head to the side as he walked around my trembling form. As he came to stand in front of me again, he nodded to himself.

“Bard tells me you are orphaned.” He said it so easily.

I nodded before responding. “I am,” I tried to speak clearly through my nerves.

“No family, no husband, no job,” he drawled. “What ever shall you do?”

Sitting back down, he grabbed his goblet again. After another long sip, he spoke again.

“You know why we are here, do you not?”

“War,” I whispered.

“Indeed, I have come for something that belongs to me and once I have it, we shall return to Mirkwood. You will come with us,” he stated.

I sputtered in disbelief at what just passed through his lips. He smirked at my antics. I was beginning to think he liked making fun of me.

“I am in need of a proper brewmaster and now that Laketown is gone, I will need a vintner as well. You will return to Mirkwood with us,” he paused his explanation. “Unless you’d rather stay here.”

I did not know if I would ever feel at home in Mirkwood, but the king was giving me an opportunity I could not pass up. I had no plans and nothing left in Dale so I didn’t hesitate to give him my answer.

“It would be my honor to serve you, King Thranduil,” I lowered my head respectfully.

“Well now that that is settled, you may leave. I will send for you before we ride to Mirkwood,” he stopped to call out in Sindarin. Feren appeared in the entrance of the tent and bowed.

“Feren will escort you back. Do not leave the city, Lady Y/N.” He waved us away and I followed my escort back to the building I was staying in. I thanked the elf as he left and entered the building. The children were asleep, but Bard quickly rose from where he was seated.

“Are you alright?” He was clearly worried.

“Yes, I’m alright,” I began. “King Thranduil has asked me to return to Mirkwood with the elves.”

Bard looked at me in disbelief. I explained everything that had transpired between the king and I as well as my fears of the future in Dale and becoming a burden.

“He is not forcing you to go, is he?”

I shook my head. “No, I swear. He may not have offered the choice, but I want to go,” I explained.

“There are no humans in the forest, Y/N. Will you be alright around all the elves? They rarely tolerate outsiders,” He argued.

Shaking off his doubt, I reassured him that I was happy use my craft. “I just hope the elves like what I make,” I joked.

“King Thranduil seems to,” Bard pulled me deeper into the room so that we could rest. Making my way to where his girls were, I settled down next to them, pulling the extra blanket over myself. I looked over to Bard who was lying next to Bain.

“Goodnight, Bard,” I whispered. “And thank you for everything.”

“Goodnight, y/n,” he whispered back.

_______

The children and I had barely escaped the ensuing chaos of the battle. The girls and I had hid after being saved by Bard. I couldn’t believe we were living through this nightmare. Tilda’s little hangs clung to my dress and I held her tightly in return. Sigrid was pulled up against my side. After what felt like hours, the battle was over and we walked out to see just what carnage it had brought. The girls and I continued on the path towards the building we had been staying in and I was pleased to see it was still standing. After ushering them inside, we sat and waited huddled together.

Not long after, Bard ran through and pulled his children to his chest. Bain was with him and I started to sob into my hands. I was so grateful they had survived. A fire was started and Bard once again left to speak with Thranduil. I stayed up watching over the children, afraid that if I closed my eyes, the orcs would be running through the city again.

When Bard returned, two elves accompanied him. I recognized Feren, but the other was a female I had never seen before. She bowed her head in greeting and handed me a bundle of clothing. As I looked it over, I realized it was travel attire. I nodded my head and silently entered an abandoned part of the building to quickly change into the leggings and tunic. I thought about wrapping my dress back up, but it was so ruined with blood and dirt, I just left it crumpled on the ground and returned to where they waited for me.

“I wish you the best,” Bard said as I approached. He pulled me into a hug and I quickly returned it as I began to tear up. “Thank you for watching over them,” he smiled.

“And thank you for watching over me, King Bard,” I teased so I wouldn’t feel so sad leaving. “I don’t want to wake them. Please tell them I will miss them,” I said, releasing him from my hold. “I wish you and your children all the happiness in the world.”

Feren led me over to the white horse he nearly ran me down with. I placed my foot in the stirrup and pulled myself up into the saddle. I nearly yelped when the elf slid into the seat behind me causing the female elf to snicker as she mounted her bay mare. I wasn’t expecting him, but then again there were only two horses. I felt lucky they weren’t making me walk.

His hands gripped the reins, effectively trapping me between his arms. My body tensed as I felt his chest against my back.

“Again I apologize, my lady,” he spoke as we started back towards the camp. “We lost many horses to the battle.” I felt him lean his head closer to my ear. “And this way, I will be sure not to trample you,” he chuckled softly.

Laughing along with him, I relaxed and let him lead on until we reached the camp. The tents were already packed up leaving no trace of the elves. The other elf with us spoke to Feren in Sindarin before riding ahead to catch up to the remaining group ahead. We rode at a slower pace, but caught up eventually nevertheless. I took one last look at Dale and knew I would miss what was left of home, but I couldn’t help but look forward to what awaited me in Mirkwood.

1 year later

Galion, the king’s steward, strolled into the cellar, eyes roaming around the converted brewery for me. My eyes caught his from the top of the tank.

“What can I do for you, Galion?” I called down to him with a smile on my face.

“Good evening, mellon. King Thranduil requests your presence for dinner,” he explained.

Confusion crossed my face as I descended the steps to stand in front of the tall elf. Galion was one of the few elves I interacted with as the impromptu brewmaster Thranduil acquired. It was not that they disliked me, although I was certain some of them were wary of me. Mirkwood elves were not used to humans after all. I tended to hole up in the cellar most of the day, so I rarely saw anyone outside of the palace staff and a handful of guards that patrolled the area.

As if Galion read my mind, he responded with, “He did not say why, but he asked that you be there.”

I shook my head. It was unusual for Thranduil and myself to cross paths in the palace, but I had been invited to dine with him before on several occasions. He seemed lonelier now that the prince had left and I supposed he was starving for company.

I sighed knowing I’d have to go get ready soon if I wanted to be on time. I had just started working on a new recipe and I hated leaving anything unfinished. With another long sigh, I headed toward a shelf that held my more experimental varieties of wine and liquor. My fingers grazed over the labels until I found what I was looking for. I grabbed the dark bottle and handed it to Galion as we started up the stairs.

“Let me know what you think of this one,” I said making my way up to my room. Galion followed beside me.

“Thank you, mellon. I’m sure Elros and I will enjoy it. Is this the one you made with the berries from the gardens?” He rolled the bottle in his hand appreciatively.

I confirmed with a nod. Galion and another elf, Elros, had quickly become my unofficial tasters when I arrived a year ago. Rather, they volunteered for the opportunity without provocation. They approved everything I sent to Thranduil because, as Galion put it, they knew his taste best. The two of them, aside from my maid, Calanthe, were the ones I felt most comfortable around, though Feren wasn’t far behind. I later learned he was not as stoic as he seemed, and enjoyed visiting with him when I got the chance.

Galion left me at my door and I found Calanthe already inside preparing a dress for me from my closet. King Thranduil was generous enough to provide me with a large wardrobe after I settled in. Calanthe had also been assigned to serve me as well as teach me the language, although my lessons were not progressing as fast as anyone hoped.

“There you are,” she smiled at me. “Does this suit you for this evening?” She gestured to the dress laying on my bed.

“It’s beautiful,” I said as I ran my fingers over the silky material. The deep red was rich in color and I couldn’t wait to get it on.

“Ah, ah,” Calanthe chided. “Bath first.” She pointed you the adjoining bathroom. I laughed as I followed her directions and saw she had already drawn the bath for me.

After bathing, she helped me pull the red silk on and fix the corset in the back. The sleeves’ seam was opened from the shoulder and closed at the wrist showing the skin of my arms. The corset accented my waist, though it was hard to breathe. I preferred to wear my shorter dresses with tights when I was in the cellar but I supposed that would be inappropriate for dinner with the Elven King.

She sat me down at the vanity and braided my hair for me since mine never came out nice enough. Even after a year of living with the elves, and practicing on Calanthe’s deep blonde mane, I still hadn’t mastered the skill and was teased for my crooked plaits. Calanthe made two on each side and joined them behind my head.

“I would do something more intricate, but we are going to be late.” She moved so I could rise from the seat.

“You did a beautiful job as always, mellon.” I smiled at her and allowed her to exit the room ahead of me.

The material swept across the floor as I followed Calanthe to the dining room. The guard nodded at us and opened the door for me to enter. Thranduil was already seated at the head of the table dressed in silver robes and a matching circlet rather than his crown. As I approached he gestured for me to join him, a servant pulling the chair next to him for me.

I bowed in greeting. “Good evening, Aran nin. I thank you for inviting me to join you.”

“I was beginning to think you’d declined my invitation.” He teased. One of the servants came and filled my glass with wine as I sat down.

“I apologize, Aran nin. Galion caught me working on a new blend and I was hesitant to leave it,” I explained.

He hummed and sipped at the wine. I did the same and blinked in surprise as it hit my tongue.

“This is-,” I began as I stared at the dark liquid in my glass.

“The wine you gave Galion. Yes, I decided I’d like to be the first to try it. Your skills have definitely bloomed since your time in Laketown.” Another sip and the servant was refilling his glass. I suddenly recalled Bard’s words about him enjoying his drink and smiled as I took another sip.

“I’m sure you have another bottle to give him, though, I think he and Elros could use a break as your tasters. I’d hate for them to enjoy it while they’re on duty.” Thranduil’s words dripped with sarcasm.

I covered my mouth as I giggled. I knew exactly how those dwarves had escaped the dungeons a year prior having heard some of the guards tell the story more than once. The king chucked softly at my own reaction.

“So, King Thranduil, why invite your brewmaster for dinner? I’m sure you are not lacking in good company.” Again, he smiled into his glass.

“I quite enjoy your company,” he drawled out.

“Surely you jest! I was under the impression you tolerate me because of my talent.” I playfully argued. He seemed to be in a good mood today which made me want to indulge his teasing just a bit.

Thranduil scoffed with a smile still gracing his face. “If anyone else spoke to me that way, they’d be in the dungeon. So, little one, I’d say I more than tolerate you despite your behavior. Besides, you are one of the few I can trust to be honest with me.”

“If you ask me for the truth, why should I lie to you?”

“Even if the truth upsets me?”

“I believe if I upset you, I wouldn’t live to see the next day so at least my suffering would be short lived.” I replied with a cheeky smile.

“You are too cruel, Hiril vuin.”

“My apologies, Aran nin.”

Another chuckle left him. He raised a hand and the servants brought out several plates piled with simmered rabbit and various roasted vegetables. I waited for Thranduil to serve himself first before I followed suit. We shared polite conversation over the meal, but I was still curious as to the real reason why he invited me.

“You still haven’t told me the real reason why I am here, my king.”

His face fell momentarily, but he quickly composed himself. After a pause, he answered. “I wanted to speak with you about returning to Dale.”

I nearly dropped my fork at his statement. “You wish for me to return to Dale?” I was in shock.

“Most of the city has been restored. You could have a brewery set up there if you wished. Of course, I would request you still fulfill the palace orders,” he paused to look me in the eyes. “In Dale, you could be around your own people.”

Not knowing how to feel, I tried not to get overwhelmed. Before I could think about what to do or say, I said, “If you wish for me to return to Dale, then simply say so. I did not know my presence was such a bother here.”

I bit my tongue as I finished. I jested about his anger beforehand, but I knew he really did anger easily and I worried of what he’d do now that I’d spoken out like that. His hand found mine on the table, his rings cool against my skin. His thumb ran across my knuckles surprisingly gentle. The touch was surprising, but not unwelcome.

“You misunderstand, Hiril vuin. I do not wish to send you away, but if you wish to be free, know that I will let you go.”

“You would give me that choice?”

“I want to know that you stay because you wish to, not because you feel you must.”

“You saved me. I am indebted to you.” I argued. He had given me a chance at a life for myself. I never thought I’d ever be more than a girl working in a washed out brewery. Here, I had full control of the entire facility. I was free to experiment with my craft and I answered to no one but the king himself. He had given me more freedom than I ever imagined, even if I was a subject of his realm.

His voice interrupted by thoughts. “I free you from your debt. If you wish to leave, I will ensure King Bard has a place for you in Dale. You two were friends, were you not?”

“I want to stay,” I nearly shouted and then caught myself. “I want to stay here in Mirkwood until you tire of me and my skills.”

He stood at my confession. “Come with me,” he commanded. Jumping to my feet, I caught him smile gently at my actions. “Let us take a walk.”

I followed Thranduil out of the dining room and down the adjoining hallway, trying to keep up with his long strides. He was silent, but upon noticing me trying to match his pace, he slowed. I recognized the path we were taking as soon as the hallway split. After a few moments, the two of us were in his throne room at the bottom of the steps.

“Aran nin,” I began, confused as to why he’d bring me here.

“Come, Y/N,” he offered his hand to me and I took it. He tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow and started ascending to his throne. I followed beside him in silence still trying to reason what we were doing here. We arrived at his throne while I was still deep in thought.

“Sit,” he released my hand as he maneuvered me to face him.

“But that is your throne,” I reasoned.

“I am well aware of what it is. Now as your king, I command you to sit.” His tone was authoritative but his gaze was playful. Shaking my head, I did as I was told and sat down on the polished wood. My hands ran over the smooth material admiring the craftsmanship. I felt intimidated by Thranduil looming over me so I looked behind him at the view from so far up.

“I can see why you like sitting here,” I said trying to fill the silence in the room. “But why am I sitting here?”

“I am rewarding you for your loyalty,” he was leaning over me now. His voice had deepened and I shivered at sound.

“By letting me sit in your throne?” I asked confused. It truly was an honor and I realized I should appreciate the gesture. Before I could explain what I meant, however, I was stopped by Thranduil’s chuckle. His gaze met mine as I watched him take a step closer to the throne, hands trailing up the edges of my dress and pushing it past my thighs. I gaped at him in shock trying to move back but his grip tightened and his dark gaze pinned me in place. He was smirking down at me and I had never felt smaller in my life. I followed his gaze as he sunk to his knees before me and ever so slowly pushed my legs apart.

“You should be grateful, meleth nin, for tonight I kneel before you.”

Tag list: (If you’d like to get added please let me know.)

@velvetmotel20

[itsonlydana]

Hi, I could not find your rules for writing, but if I may request some smut/fluff *Thranduil x reader*. You can imagine this scenario; the tranduil and reader are playing this kind of game: do or drink, and how they are playing, they have various tasks,some are funny, some are more s€xual... they are kind of sassy and playful, and they are teasing eachother (because none of them want to lose), and after that they will do what have to be done (yk what I mean). If you are not comfortable or I over-crossed your rules, than you can ignore this ♥︎. Thank you for your beautiful writings, cant wait for another !

Drinks and Dares | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

Boredom leads Thranduil to ask you to play a game that either end in far too many secrets spilled or far too much wine drank. When you agreed you wouldn't have thought the evening to end like this!

tags/warnings: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️, smut, oral sex (fem), fingering, pet names, slight intoxication on wine (they literally played a drinking game, it's all consensual), Thranduil gets off on reader wearing his crown

word count: 4,5k

an: this turned out to be much filthier and longer than I expected or planned but here you go! I'm getting much more comfortable writing smut though it's still not at a level where I could say: yeah i know what I'm doing so forgive me if it feels a bit "clunky"

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

The truth was, you shouldn't have agreed to play a game with Thranduil. 

As his most trusted guard ever since he was crowned and daresay friend for the past two millennials you should have known better than to assist him in his mischief because you knew, you knew, that nothing good ever came to his bored ingenious mind and once again you were proven to be right in that initial judgment you had ignored again, and look where that led you:

Sitting cross-legged in his private chambers and staring up as Thranduil elegantly made out with his own reflection in the tall mirror.

It was one of the more…audacious dares of the evening because you see, Thranduil's idea of entertainment was, of course, combining drinking with luring out a side of you that you, on a normal day-to-day basis, hid behind the honorable task of accompanying your Majesty. Normally you would never allow it to be this carefree, to not bother checking your surroundings – or tongue, a far worse opportunity to slip up. Thranduil could protect himself very much without any help though he liked to keep you around for comfort, but your tongue?

No, there were far too many secret desires that needed to be pushed down with the utmost care. 

This concentration and focus were however nowhere to be seen after you had agreed to fool around with Thranduil's infinite supply of wine that never seemed to become less, despite the amount you drank. 

The dares became less light-hearted the more wine flowed. Sneaking around the servants' hall to steal Feren's comb changed into you having to yell out the first word that came to your mind when you thought of Thranduil (the bastard had you scream 'so fucking sensual' before you both collapsed into giggles). The dares you gave Thranduil changed quite drastically as well, going from tame things like telling whoever he hated the most on the council (Thorin was the only answer and that was nothing he kept to himself) to.. well – kissing himself in the mirror.  

From your point, you saw how his eyes were closed and his lips opened, smooched against the fogged-up crystal as his tongue sensually licked up a bit of spit he left. While his breath clouded the sight, you held yours in an effort to capture the smallest of noises like the soft moans that slipped out of him.

You heard and saw him press a wet kiss, a last shorter one, nothing more than a quick peck, against his reflection before his eyes snapped open to meet yours and you hoped he mistook the dilution in your pupils for the wine you held cradled in your lap and not for the pure arousal that cursed through your bloodstream and pumped straight to your core. He smirked, sharp at the edges of his with spit glittering mouth. He wasn't stupid. 

"So," you cleared your throat and leaned back on one hand, lifting the other to sip on your wine, "Your turn."

"Mhm yes." Thranduil lowered himself back on the chaise longue and tugged a leg under himself. He wrapped his long fingers around the chalice to click his nails against the gold; the beat echoing deep with the throbbing between your legs. "You shall do the same as me."

"What?" you huffed, "Kiss the mirror?"

He nodded.

Your eyebrows drew together in a frown, "You can't just give me the same task! That's not how this works, Your Majesty–"

"Then drink," Thranduil said unbothered by your nagging, "That is how the game works. You do," he paused and tipped his chalice into your direction, smirking, "or you drink."

Playing games like this led to far too many secrets spilled and far too much skin revealed, evidenced by the state of undress you're both in. 

Your armor had been placed by the door long ago, leaving you in a simple tunic and leggings that had grown uncomfortably warm by now. Thranduil too had rid himself of all the fancy robes and was left lounging in far too few layers for anyone else to see him. You saw the pale skin of his throat all the way down to a muscular chest revealed by a loose satin tunic and noticed every twitch of his legs confined in very, so very tight sitting, breeches. 

You glared at him and gripped your own chalice tighter, tempted to just down it all and give him another dare that his ego would not easily allow to give up on but it has been a long evening and most of your thoughts are still hung up on the imagery of Thranduil pressed against his own reflection, hand splayed wide against condensation of his own hot breath. 

Standing up quickly your head spun a few rounds didn't stop you from marching up to the mirror, swaying a bit to the left before reaching it. Thranduil watched you, his eyes locked onto yours and even if he may wanted to seem casual, leaning back into the cushions, his bobbing throat betrayed the image of unaffectedness he was trying to portray.

You told yourself it was the wine in your system that made you stand up on your naked tiptoes to reach the spot where Thranduil's breath had left an imprint of his mouth and, shaking just slightly, your mouth crushed against the warmed glass; right where he had been.

You tasted spit and wine and metal. 

It was not at all what you had expected and at first, there was awkwardness to kissing a smooth surface that didn't reciprocate your movements until you heard a choked-up sound behind you. Thranduil's noise fueled you on and remembering what he had done, you opened your lips, allowing your tongue to draw a suggestively figure-eight. 

Another gasp, this time it was your own at the lack of oxygen that would have taken you down had you not drawn back. By now the alcohol muddled your brain completely, making it impossible to stand still and not sway again. Heat pooled in your cheeks and down lower between your legs, and you were sure they were as red as they felt; flushed by this indecent behavior that only he could provoke in you because who were you but a fool in love?

"See, this was not very hard, was it?" Thranduil laughed huskily.

"Still a stupid dare," you bit and sat down again, glad that your knees didn't give up halfway across the room as they threatened to do. As a trained warrior, a good one at that, you may say so yourself, you should be able to control yourself better. It was truly pathetic how the scratch of Thranduil's voice combined with the heat that threatened to suffocate the room left your hands shaking and your knees wobbling. When the world tipped slightly, you gave in, falling onto your back to watch the ceiling spin. 

"Okay," your eyes followed the roots that curved through the stone. They had been there long before you built the halls around them though now they were intertwined in the very ground that held you all together. "You, um, you have to drink or–" You grasped at whatever coherent thought was left in the puddle of brain that swooshed inside your head. A girlish giggle left you as a most improper idea manifested, its origin that one fantasy you had for decades now, never more than a secret you only dared to think about in the most lonely times.

"Or?" Thranduil inquired. He sounded very amused and if you looked half as funny and flushed as you felt, you understood why.

"Or," your head lolled to the side, taking in his long body splayed across the chaise longue watching you with a look in his eyes that had heart feathering, fluttering like a bird's wings, "I'm allowed to wear your crown."

A beat of silence. 

Thranduil's eyebrows slowly wandered up on his forehead, creating the perfect arch to capture his short moment of confusion before his mouth followed. Just when you thought now you'd done it and fucked up his lips curved into a smirk and you hoped, begged, lusted after his agreement; you wouldn't survive a denial. 

Not now, not with heat curling hot inside your stomach.

You wouldn't say the atmosphere changed, not particularly; there had been an underlying tension ever since you both had freed yourself from the constricting robes and armors and pretended not to stare at each bit of skin revealed, but there certainly was a shift to what was already there: hunger. 

Starvation in the form of wide eyes and quick intakes of breath, your body screaming for him and you scrambling toward Thranduil, as he slowly petted the empty space next to him. 

"Sit," his voice commanded, and ever the dutiful admirer of His Majesty you sat up straight and placed your legs in a perfect angle in front of you instead of following his example and tucking them under your body. Thranduil unfolded them gracefully. He kept his eyes trained on you and you had no problems staring right back. "I must say, you are awfully brave to ask me for my crown," Thranduil said as he stood up and thus forced you to crane your neck.

"To be precise," you started, without a care in the world this would be most daring as well, if not borderline stupid and ignorant, "I did not ask for it." Thranduil's eyebrows wandered up again. You didn't shrink under his gaze but rather challenged it.

"Do you call your king a liar?" 

You lifted your chin higher, tilting it slightly in thought. There were many answers to his question, varying greatly on the specter of what one would deem inappropriate, and all of them lay on the tip of your tongue.

You settled on one of them with a soft smile on your lips that could be perceived as dreamy. "I do not call my king a liar," you waited until Thranduil thought this to be your final answer until that satisfied smirk of him thinking he had won another round appeared on his beautiful face, and then you continued: "There are rules to this game and so I didn't ask for your crown, I dared you to let me wear it. It's entirely in your hands to either accept the dare or you must drink." The last part you said slowly, not rushing out the words that fueled Thranduil's smirk further on just as you had predicted it would happen if you showed finesse in your answer and not gave into his power-plays. 

"So it seems," Thranduil said. He reached for the crown on his head, the oak sticks, lush with moss and green foliage that sprouted a colorful array of yellow buttercups, pink foxglove, fiery-red poppies, and blueish-purple tufted vetches for summer had come, and weighted it in his hands. 

He lowered it slowly, taking his time to take in every little breath you took, the rapid rising and falling of your chest that had Thranduil's special attention. When you felt the crown parting your hair, had the twigs press against the sensitive skin behind your ear, and were completely engulfed in the oh-so-sweet but heavy floral scent, all rational thinking left you with a breathy moan. 

There was control, and dominance in the crown, in all that it stood for and now you wore it, still physically beneath Thranduil but that too changed the moment your lashes fluttered looking up at him, intoxicated on wine, power, and the knowledge to be the only other person that ever had the privilege of this.

"Valar, look at you," Thranduil rasped, darkness blew his pupils wide and his hands fell to cup your neck into their large palms. Fingertips pressed against your fluttering pulse and you automatically, even though you had never allowed any Ellon to touch this delicate part, leaned into it. 

"And? How do I look?" you asked and gasped as his nails scratched over your neck.

Thranduil's grip on your neck nudged your head back further. He leaned down, loose hair like a waterfall out of starlight and if the hunger in his eyes was anything to go by, he was burning up just like you. 

When he spoke, it was a low tide rolling over coarse sand: "Majestic." His thumbs were under your chin, hindering it from dropping at the word though he felt the whimper bubbling up inside you where his fingers laid claim on your throat. "My turn," he said.

For a brief second, you didn't know what he was talking about, all that went through your head was that this, you sitting in his crown with him standing in front of you, was worth all the pining of a millennial. 

"You will address me by my given name, not by my title."

"What?" Your tongue flicked out to wetten your lips.

"I –," Thranduil's thumb wandered the same path that your tongue had, "dare you –," he pulled your lower lip back, revealing your open-in-wonder-gaze, "to call me by my name while I worship you in a manner deserving for a Queen."

Your heart stopped and were it not for the tension tying you down, you would have stumbled away. "Queen? Your Maj–"

"Silence!" Dark eyebrows furrowed in on themselves. Thranduil's hands trailed down your neck, over your chest bone and heaving breasts, nails tugging on the cord that kept everything together as it should, and effortlessly, one flick of his hand snapped the knot open – revealing the frantic breaths that moved your body. He sank to his knees, spreading open his legs to sit down on his heels.

"My Ki–" 

This time you stopped yourself, biting down on your lip to keep the word back that felt like a lie with the crown adorning you and instead doing nothing but stare at your King, because that was who he was in the end, Thranduil, Great Elvenking, Son of Oropher and Leader of the Woodland Elves, pulling on your leggings and removing the last part of clothing that had hidden your arousal. 

"You started this, little one," Thranduil murmured as he nudged his nose against your thighs, his lips only centimeters away from your skin. His eyes flickered to you, "you will forgive me if I finish it."

"Oh, you don't have to do that"

"Why not? Who are you to deny a King a wish most truthfully coming from his heart?" There was a taunting tone in his voice. "

"I am nothing but a mere guard, Thranduil," his name slipped your tongue more easily now that he was kneeling in front of your dripping sex and a certain shyness fell over you, "There are far different ellens deserving of this– of your touch"

"You have taken care of me for many years, far more than I can count," he said lowly and softly, while his hands brushed over the subtle curves of your naked legs, dipped into the bent of your knees to coax them open, "Let me be the one to care for you now."

His lips left a wet trail of kisses up your thighs, hot and open-mouthed and you were whimpering even before he sealed them over your throbbing clit and flicked his tongue over it. A whimper became a gasp, a broken one at that because Thranduil wasted no time teasing you but rather dived right into slightly open his jaw and using the flat length of his tongue, he licked through your lips in such a manner the obscene sound echoed through the entire chamber. 

Your hands flew to his head to bury them in the soft strands of his hair and you wrapped them around your fingers for a better hold. Not that that was necessary, the way Thranduil lapped at you showed no sign that he ever wanted to be anywhere else than between your legs.

His tongue moved through you swiftly, the talent of the wide enough to cover all of you, yet precise technique to flick against your clit again and again on his route brought a blazing hot pleasure to you that quickly dissolved all the muscles you had used to stay upright. 

Thranduil moaned against you, and through the mess that you had made of his hair, ruffled all across his forehead, you saw his eyes roll back into his head, and when his luscious lashes brushed your pelvic bone just as he heaved your legs over his shoulders to practically hold you up, your back arched beautifully and all that remained were your arms and shoulders that got burned by the fabric, the coil inside you snapped and all you could do was follow his orders to scream his name.

In a flash, you went from practically elevating in the air to being pinned into the chaise lounge, Thranduil's broad body covering you easily. Long agile fingers stayed where his tongue had been, two spreading you open and the middle one slipping right into you thanks to the mixture of spit and your cum that he had graciously left there. 

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked through gritted teeth and you felt him grind his own affection into you. There was certainly a heavy weight against your shaking thighs and you moaned at the loss of not having him inside you yet. Thranduil grinned, and you felt it on his lips kissing your neck and jaw. "You did," he chuckled breathlessly, "You sat there all evening, letting this game continue as your pretty head thought of a way to fulfill these filthy– filthy fantasies."

You clenched around his finger at his words and the low timbre he used to speak them directly into your ear. One of his rings, cold despite the heat that surrounded you both, met your clit and your hips flew up but were stopped by his body caging you in.

"Tell me," Thranduil opened his mouth and teeth grazed over your ear; you were keening instantly, dripping more than you have ever had in all the nights you pretended your own fingers were his though now you knew they would never come close to the actual thing, "What came next in your fantasies?"

"Preferably me," you whined.

It brought a full laugh out of him, heartily and so not at all fitting for the situation you were in but that lifted some of the stressful tension, leaving more room for playfulness that had been far back in your head out of the need to preserve every second, afraid this was just the wine playing tricks on you. 

His heavy yet perfect weight was a pressing reminder this was not at all an image your mind had conjured. 

"Is that a dare?" 

Damn him, you thought. He was still keeping up this forsaken game.

You raised your hands, missing your goal the first time at a loss of focus he robbed you of with a second finger fucking into you. The next time you tried you managed to wrap your arms around his neck and grab some of his tresses. 

"My King," you watched his pupils blacken out even further, taking away most of the calm blues and grays, "I dare you to respect the crown." Thranduil let out a throaty groan, almost as if he was tortured. You smiled, however much you could while his fingers scissored you open.

"I dare you to fuck me like there's royal blood in me."

He hooked his fingers, dragging the tips over a rough patch inside you that had you keening and stumbling over whimpers and gasps that slipped out of you faster than you could catch your breath. His mouth latched on to your neck again, sucking a bit of the soft skin into his mouth only to soothe the spot his teeth had nibbled on a moment later in a wet apology. The thought of a bruise in the shape of his canine is exhilarating, doused by the wine that left its hot film over all that's happening. 

"Such vulgar language," Thranduil mocked and, to your absolute disagreement, pulled out his fingers. His hand once again found your thigh, wet and glistening with the essence that he left on your skin, as his other hand made quick work of his breeches, somehow, gracefully pulling them off and flinging them somewhere across the floor through where it landed was not at all were your attention fell to but rather the impressive size of him.

He always had been muscular and well-formed for an Ellon, not that he lacked in elegance for that, but you had noticed his shoulders were broader, his chest defined yet slender and naturally one couldn't forget about his height. It was as if the stars had conspired to ensure that he would stand out in every way and exceed all expectations.

Eager to get his cock inside you you wiggled your hips, chasing after anything that could bring you closer to your goal. 

The only result you got was Thranduil's fingers coming down to pinch your clit as he clicked his tongue. His dark eyebrows raised in admonition. "It seems you require a lesson in behavior fitting a Queen. This impatience must be lost at once!" 

Faster than you could react he flipped you over, large hands effortlessly handling you to face the cushions, knees spread wide and your dripping cunt exposed to him. Your legs nearly slipped of the sides, bringing out a squeal of surprise. "Thranduil!" you laughed and turned your head.

As soon as looked over your shoulder and saw his flat hand palming your cheek, spreading you open while his other hand fisted his hard cock, all teasing became unnecessary. Thranduil let a drop of spit fall onto his hand which he used to lube himself up.

"A loyal subservient must always be on his Queen's side," he said and his hips twitched into his hand, "I will swear my allegiance to you from behind you."

Bright blue yet lust-clouded eyes stared at you and his smirk sent shivers down your spine; all for him to see. You felt his cock nudge against you, the tip alone larger than expected and you gasped. It became harder to keep your head where you could watch his face contort, to see his jaw slacken at your tight heat, and you pressed your chin against your shoulder in need of support. 

Every inch that breached you burned most deliciously and even now, most of his cock was still for you to see, he had imprinted itself to be the only Ellon who would ever fill you this perfectly. You want to howl at the burning pleasure that sparked up your spine, a glimmer of hot fire licking through your middle, and need buried its claws in your tender flesh.

He pushed into you completely, slipping right in due to his extensive preparations and the surreal amount of wetness that surely dripped onto the expensive fabric of the chaise lounge that burned where your knees dug into it. The moan he tore out of you at the intrusion vibrated through you wholly. You screamed in ecstasy, spiraled into an endless pit, and your head dropped down not unlike a puppet that had its strings snapped, however, yours were strung tighter. You felt your cunt blink around him as you accommodated the heft of him.

Thranduil moaned, grunted, and exhaled heavily throughout the whole slow push until his cock sat deep inside you and his sharp hips met your ass. His hand there gripped you harshly enough for it to probably leave bruises in the shape of his fingers and moons of his nails, and the fluttering of your walls around his length did not help in him loosening the grip. 

"Devine," he groaned lowly, "Oh, how I have imagined how you would feel stretched around me." Huh? "This sweet, sweet cunt plagued me for far too long for me to act upon it only now," he continued and rolled his hips against yours. It drove his cock deeper, meeting a spot that had you seeing stars and made it impossible to answer to his admissions, which only continued.

"The many ways I thought about your body beneath mine, your pretty lips sucking me off during these unbearable meetings." 

A hand wrapped around your chin, nudging your head away from the pillow you had used to stifle your moans, fabric lint dry on your tongue, and imprints of your teeth left behind, and as Thranduil pulled out of you, leaving just his tip in to stretch you, he turned your head back at him again. Long fingers stroked over your temple, pinched your cheeks together to draw your mouth into a pucker and you followed the silent instructions of sucking his pointer into it. 

Thranduil leaned down, his chest covering your back completely, you whined at the loss of the inch of cock this movement brought forth, then his lips were peppering kisses to your ear. "You dared me to fuck you like royalty?" he asked and you frantically nodded. Thranduil's teeth flashed at his wide smirk. "Then you better take all that I have to offer"

One smooth thrust, your moan echoing loudly, a wet squelch far too obscene, and Thranduil set a rhythm that had you rely on his arm that wrapped around your middle for any hold on reality. Your hands clawed at the chaise lounge, nails ripping apart seams to ground yourself against the punishing pace with which his cock drove itself home, carved a space for the massive length and width, and the sounds you made only fueled Thranduil on. 

"Look at you," he gasped, "taking me so well."

The praise washed over you with such a crushing weight. 

Days, Weeks, Years, Decades, Millenniums. All the time that had passed. You thought you would wait forever for a compliment as meaningful as this, to hear his appreciation and now.. oh he thought you to worthy enough to take him, to take all of him.

Tears pooled in your eyes, dripping slowly and falling down at the brutal pace used to hammer his cock into you, deeper, further, more and more until you thought it punched a way through your stomach up into your throat because all that you felt, all that you were, was a snug fit, taking him so well.

"Thran.. Thranduil–" you whined and the strings in your gut tightened. "Please," you begged, for all, for nothing, for him. He alone held you over that edge you barreled towards, he alone would be able to push you over into an abyss of the ever-growing pleasure.

"Cum," he ordered, voice strained and by the frantic rhythm of his thrusts you thought he was reaching a limit as well, "Let me feel you cum once more. I dare you!"

You wailed, another sound mixing into the slapping of skin, the shortened breaths and the grunts, the loud pounding of the blood inside your ears until his fingers dropped down to your clit, pinching it again through the slick that pooled there, lightening up yet another nerve ending and you screamed as hot white blinding pleasure exploded and engulfed you. It shot through your limps, branched to every last cell in your body, and filled all thoughts. Even your own heartbeat became an echo of his cock.

Stars

A sea of twinkling lights, burning up in front of your eyes as you screamed your release, your whole body twitching and at the same time pressing back into Thranduil's hips.

You wanted to see him unravel, to come undone and this egoistical part of you fed on the thought of being the one who breaks the Elvenking but when his hips stuttered one last time and you felt his release coating your twitching insides, Thranduil was just as electrifyingly and unfairly beautiful. 

Cold metal brushed against your lips and you blinked dazed. 

"Drink," Thranduil had grabbed the abandoned chalice and held it to your panting mouth, ignoring the drool that wettened the corner of it.

"But–," you mumbled and a dreamy, fucked-out smile spread in your face, "I haven't even heard the dare yet."

©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Imagine having a relaxing day inside with your husband Thranduil

“Come back to bed, my love.”

“My darling, I have busy day today.”

“No you do not. Feren and Legolas are taking care of your responsibilities and I have given the guards permission to restrain you if you even attempt to work or do anything that isn’t relaxing.”

“I love you so dearly, my queen.”

[awkwardkindatries]

I have had such a particular scenario running through my mind all day and I need to get it out.

Imagine: riding horse back through the green wood forests with Feren all day, him showing you were they forage food, the training grounds, the ins and outs of the palace. Then when he’s done he carts you off to his place of rest, a spot in the forest where the smell of decaying leaves is thick and the musk of the old redwood is rich and clings to your clothes. Enjoying an afternoon with your feet dipped into the chilled water of a runoff brook of deep idol chatter and soft longing stares that mean every bit of nothing and still a longing whisper of something.

[koyunsoncizeri]

Oh to kiss thrannduil 😔

Kissing the Elves

Mirkwood

Oropher

Oropher's kisses are firm and confident, his lips melding with yours in a controlled and calculating manner. His hand comes to rest under your hair and at the nape of your neck so he can draw you in closer. He tastes lightly of sugar and peaches, and his lips are petal soft against yours despite their firmness.

Thranduil

Thranduil's lips press to yours with fervor and passion, his tongue slipping into your mouth, curling around yours. He is demanding and domineering, and tastes of the finest Dorwinion wine- sweet and bitter. His hand holds your chin firmly in place as he kisses you, demanding you in full and to only be distracted by him.

Legolas

Legolas' kisses are tender and sweet, his lips always moving feather like against yours. Always so gentle and careful as he holds your face, thumbs lovingly stroking your cheeks, his lips pressing softly into yours. He takes his time to kiss you, wanting to savor the way you feel against him.

Meludir

Meludir's kisses always have an air of playfulness to them, his lips pressing against yours lightly and then firmly. Teeth nipping at your bottom lip to pull soft gasps and giggles from you, he's always smiling into the kiss and his hands rest on your hips. Pulling you into him and swaying along with you.

Feren

He may come off as dutiful and maybe even a little stern but when it comes to kissing you, Feren makes sure to take his sweet time especially if you two are in private. He's not afraid to kiss you sweetly, slowly melding his lips against yours, making sure to be gentle and make sure you know that he loves you.

* * *

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87 @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @eternalabysss @noldorinpainter

[kingdoms-and-empires]

It would seem like the Argent blessed noble blood should have proliferated more or were there a lot of only single child royal families. Like Remiel and Uriel were only children so I wonder why Uriel and Adelina had so many. Also will our siblings marry out or marry in partners?

Great questions!!

REALISTICALLY

There should be more. Siblings of the ruler shouldve married or at least had kiddos right?

Well, there are!

But those families no longer possess the ability to actually activate the blessed armor because the ability only lasts 3 generations.

Same with the whole white hair and eyes thing!

The main branch, that is the main ruling family, have to keep a constant connection to the blessed armor so they dont lose their white hair and eyes, or else itll be lost. ONLY family members with white hair or eyes can claim the Silver Throne!

But I dont talk much about this ingame because alot of it could overwhelm a reader, especially how the game is currently presented with all the walls of text it currently is. SO this will be a future wiki article and discussion that Master Feren will teach to us in the future!!!

Now for the actual answer

In terms of writing, i already have an incredibly high amount of characters. And writers usually want a clean and organized world because its easier to write about. But imagine a writer trying to work with a family tree and system like that of the Capet or Habsburg dynasty lines? Then add in all the craziness of the branch families?? ITS INSANE

Hence my lil bit of laziness in this regard lololol

Hope this answered your questions!!!

Gonna tag this ideabucket so i remember to do the article at some point lmao

[shirefantasies]

The Hobbit Characters Meeting Your First Child Together (Wife!Reader)

Part 2 of this post! Time to find out who has daughters or sons first 😁 also requested by anon, but it was already drafted hehe~

Warnings: Blood mentions, birth complications in some (happy endings for all!)

Balin

Knitting was a bit of a struggle those days, you reflected as your elbows ached from bending to keep your needles above the curve of your belly. Balin sat in the armchair at your side, a hand idly drawing circles upon your thigh. Thus, he felt your sudden jerk, rose with you when you all but threw your needles and their work to the side table. "What is it?" He asked. "The chair," you cried out, "It's ruined!" Moisture seeped into the seat of it, a dark stain upon maroon velvet. "We can most likely get that out," Balin comforted you, a hand on yours, "But what is it?" "My water," you answered lowly, dread of realization creeping in on you. "What water?" "My water," you repeated urgently, dragging your husband by the arm, "I am going into labor!"

~

The only thing that got you through your labor was chuckling at Balin's attempts to hide his nerves, which somehow seemed greater than yours. Likely due to the way your body went into a near-primal focus, your every thought channeled not even into pushing your child out, but simply keeping them safe. Safe indeed, for soon a very loud cry pierced your ears. "Mahal," Oin remarked, dark eyes widening as he extended your newly-wrapped babe to you, "He's a strong one!" "He?" You asked. "He is strong!" Balin cried out, pulling you into his chest from where he stood, one hand reaching for your son, who immediately gripped his finger tight. "Oh, he is indeed!" "We did it," you sobbed into your husband's chest. "You did," Balin corrected, "I can't imagine how you endured all that." "All for him," you replied, gazing down at your son, whose eyes squinted open and blinked. Brown, just like his father's.

Dwalin

"Get out of the way! My wife is giving birth! Our child's coming!" All but shoving the crowds as he burst through with you in his arms, one hand wrapped less loosely about you so he could fling it out at offending pedestrians, Dwalin carried you down Erebor's halls all the way to Oin's. "It- It takes a long time, you know! The baby isn't coming right now," you stuttered out, jostled by your husband's brisk pace. "I'll not take my chances," Dwalin replied as he disappeared with you into the doorway.

~

"Stars above, why'd ya wait so long?" "Huh?" Your head snapped up from the bed you'd been draped onto, the world fading sharply back to focus amidst the pain. "You either took yer sweet time or else this is an unusually fast labor." Dwalin grinned down at you. "Now is not the time," you shot back, gritting your teeth. In the end, the agonies of labor were over for you in four hours' time. "Unusual all the way around," Oin remarked, settling the mewling babe in your arms, "You two've got yourselves a little girl." "'N she's going to look just like you, too," Dwalin told you, reaching a tattooed hand out to stroke your daughter's cheek and nuzzling against your head.

Thorin

Thorin knew by the way you gripped his arm, swiveled his head to meet your eyes and see your faint nod. Register the fear in your eyes and cup your cheek gently. He was prepared, bringing you a blanket to hold beneath you when your water began to seep through your skirt. Your husband led you by the hand as you waddled with the blanket between your legs all the way to Thorin’s most trusted healer, his old journey’s companion.

~

“You can do this. I have seen firsthand how much you can endure. You were made to do this, my love.” “I know,” you whined, unconcerned how pitiful you sounded for despite being a queen, at that moment you were a woman in pain. Pain that had gone on for hours, burning and tearing through your body. “The head is stuck,” Oin told you. “No,” you breathed. “I’m afraid I may have to widen the opening. Looking up to meet Thorin’s eyes, you simply tightened your grip on his hand, squeezing your eyes shut tight when the healer took up a small blade and letting out a cry of agony as he cut. Finally, though, blessedly, a weight lifted as your little one came free with a sound of confusion. Panting, you gave your husband a weak smile, sitting up a bit further and wincing at the pain, enduring to hold your newborn. “My son. Our son. A new prince is born to Erebor,” Thorin whispered, leaning down to connect your foreheads, warmth pooling even amidst the sweat glistening there, “I cannot take away your pain, but I will do anything in my power to be the best king, husband, and father you both could ask.” “You already are,” you told him, laying your hand over his, which was joined with your son’s.

Oin

"It's time, isn't it?" "How did you know what I was about to say?" You asked him, head cocked. "Because I've seen the signs a thousand times," Oin reminds you, "Now come on. Go get yourself comfortable. I've got everything ready." Patting your shoulder and kissing your cheek, he guides you to your bed and leaves the room, only to return with his supplies. "I'll go put the kettles on." "Why two?" "One to keep me clean 'n one for your tea." Oin had, in fact, told you about the tea he made patients to help with their pain. You nodded. "Of course. I trust my healer." The affection in your husband's eyes matched your own gaze as he disappeared through the door one more time.

~

"Yer doin' great." "I don't feel like I am," you cried. "Shh, I know," Oin soothed, making his way back up to your head to kiss you, "It'll all be over soon, though. Promise. In fact, can you give me one more push?” For all the frustration you may have felt, your husband was both delivering your little one and reassuring you. He was doing amazing for your baby and you could do the same. Whimpering and straining, you pushed until a cry pierced the room. “You did it! A wee thing, too. Oh, oh, love, it’s a girl! We had a girl!” Daughters were all too rare among dwarvenkind. Eyes widening and lips parting, you leaned over to let Oin wipe the sweat from your brow with one newly-cleaned hand after he handed over your daughter. Tears poured from his eyes as he rested his hand over yours that held your daughter’s. “I’ve seen this a thousand times, and yet this is like never before. Thank you for this gift.” Whispering your name, he guided you gently by the chin into a kiss of pure love and gratitude.

Gloin

“Are you alright?” Your husband’s voice was like a buzz beneath the ring of your ears, lightheadedness overtaking you until you felt a hand take yours and heard a louder, firmer call of your name. No anger colored it, just concern that had you finally swinging your head Gloin’s way. Soon as your eyes met his, you nodded faintly and smiled before the spots dancing in your vision won.

~

When you awoke, your brother-in-law was checking your pulse, nodding as you started. “She’s doin’ better,” Oin told Gloin, “Get back up there, she’s going to start pushing.” Shuffling back up from his brother’s side to yours, your husband took your hand, gently smoothing your hair and dabbing cold sweat off your brow with his sleeve. “I’m ready whenever you are,” he told you, and off you went into another haze of pain and encouragement and anticipation. Oin’s cry of victory actually alerted you both to the birth before the baby made a sound, emerging into the air with a small whine of confusion and near annoyance that had you and Gloin chuckling. The baby started crying as Oin checked him over, fussing in your arms as Gloin leaned down to rest his forehead over his new addition’s. “I’m a da. I’ve finally got a son of my own,” he whispered, tears welling in his eyes.

Bifur

“Bifur!” Plodding footsteps filled your vision as your husband tore into the room, almost careening into your dresser. Entering the room, his dark eyes widened as he caught side of you folded over, your water leaking onto your shared bed. “The blankets,” you panted, “I’m sorry…” Waving a hand and shaking his head, Bifur dismissed you, removing his gloves to caress your cheek and feel your forehead before he lowered you down and gestured for you to wait. Squeezing your hand when you nodded in agreement, he disappeared out the door in search of Oin.

~

Gasps sounded at your feet as Oin motioned for Bifur to join him and rake up a tool. Muscle memory kept the feeling and warmth of your husband’s hand in yours alive for another moment, but you all but forgot it in the panic of Oin tracing a circle around his neck. The cord was wrapped. Spears of ice pierced your heart as you watched your husband frantically aid the healer, eyes stone in focus and motions deliberate. After what felt like hours, you saw both their chests rest in exhales. “He’s alright,” Oin told you, “Your son will be just fine.” Crying out, you reached out your arms, embracing your husband and then sobbing into the blanket that held your new addition. You could tell by his wisps of black hair, the shape of his nose, that he was going to look just like his father. “Our miracle,” you sobbed to Bifur and Oin, “You are true heroes. Thank you. Our son will have no shortage of great dwarves to look up to.”

Bofur

“Bofur, my labor is beginning.” “Your what?” Wincing, you shuffled forward to clutch your husband by the collar. “Your child is coming, so I suggest you get some help unless you’d like to have a fun adventure with our rug later.” Swallowing, Bofur nodded. “Right. On my way.”

~

“And I’ll never forget the day I met you. When I saw you I thought ‘There’s simply no way she could be real’. Goodness me, if I’m not thinking the very same right now.” Bofur’s hand never left yours and his mouth never stopped moving, even if you were in no state to respond. Contorting with the pain, you cried out as your body gave its all, spending yourself for one last push. “See what I mean? Oin just caught the wee bairn. You’re all done! Just pushed a whole baby out all by yourself. Plain amazing’s what it is.” “And a girl no less!” Oin chimed in, slashing the cord as your daughter began to cry. “Hear that, love? A little dwarrowdam!” Smiling at your husband, you felt a tear slide down and mingle with the sweat glistening upon your cheek. Oin placed her in your arms and Bofur bent over to meet her blinking eyes. “Hello there! It’s me, yer da! I’m the one who’s going to buy you everything you want, alright?” “Not even five minutes old and she already has you wrapped around her finger,” you teased. “Damn right.” Bofur kissed her head, then yours.

Bombur

“Bombur.” “I’m on it.” Your sweet husband needed only a word to rush off across your home, fetching you a pot and holding it beneath you. “What’s this for?” “The water,” he answered, nodding down to where your skirt soaked through. “Oh,” you accepted one of the cold steel handles, “right. That works.” “You ready? I’ll get yer bag too.” “Ready as I’ll ever be,” you answer with a smile.

~

Taking a cloth, your husband wiped the sweat off your forehead gently, patting your cheek affectionately. “Still doing alright?” “Best I can,” you grunted. “Everything look good down there? Well, good as it can,” Bombur amended with a glance down to his old companion, who nodded. Bombur had been asking questions and checking in the whole times, not to mention keeping you as clean and comfortable as could be. Rather that annoy you, it made you smile to see how much he cared. You had a healer, yes, but a nurse also. “Almost here,” he said, “just a few more pushes, eh?” Exhaling sharply, you focused all your might, forcing your muscles harder than you thought possible until a wail pierced the room. “You’ve done it,” Oin congratulated you, crossing the room with a little bundle in hand. Reaching out, Bombur wrapped his hands gently around the little one, lowering your baby down to let you uncover her head, which already had whisps of red hair. "She's beautiful." "'Course she is," Bombur replied, nuzzling into your cheek, "Came out o' you, didn't she?"

Dori

"Love, are you alright?" "Yes." You paused, crumpling and wincing beneath the crash of more pain. "Wait, no. That is to say I've never felt this before. I think my labor has started." No more words were necessary; flitting about your home, Dori fetched blankets and a skin of water and all manner of other supplies. "Will Oin not have all we need?" "Can't be too sure," your husband replied, striding to your side and smoothing your hair before he caressed your face, blue eyes staring into yours, "I want you to be safe, you know. I love you." And what could you say? You loved him, too, for all his quirks and for that big beautiful heart.

~

"Is that normal? That's not normal, is it?" Oin had drawn you a warm bath, lowering you into the water and checking your progress. "What's he doing all this for?" "To relax her," the healer replied to your nervous husband with a shake of his head, "And yes, this happens. 's just a slow labor is all. Some of 'em rush on out and others take their time. I suspect your wee bairn is just in no hurry." No hurry indeed. For all your pains of labor, it was almost 20 hours to the minute before your bath ran red and plaintive cries of confusion drifted into the air, Dori's fretting and even apologizing to you for putting you in this position turning to gripping your hand and all but leaping in anticipation. "You did it," he congratulated you quietly, embracing you without care of the water, sweat, and Mahal knew what else soaked you. "You sure did," Oin agreed, smiling as you accepted your little one, whose face was still red from crying, "She's here." "A daughter," Dori whispered, "A little girl! All my dreams are coming true and it's all thanks to you. How could I ever thank you? You'll never want for anything, neither of you, not love or warmth or all the pretty things you'd ever want."

Nori

Nori’s arms were snaked around your middle when you jerked forward, pushing his hands away. “For goodness sakes, you could’ve just said you didn’t want to-” “No,” you waved a hand frantically, feeling the gush of liquid trickling out, “My water just broke, Nori. It is time.” “Right now?” “Sorry if it’s inconvenient for you,” you sassed. At that, your husband smiled faintly and shook his head. “Not at all. In fact," he quipped, "I was a bit bored.”

~

“Push!” “What does it look like I’m doing?” Now your ire is focused on Oin, bringing many a snicker forth from Nori. At least until you crush his hand with a steel grip, crying out and falling limply against the sheets on which you lie. “That felt like something. Am I done?” “Almost,” the healer replied, his head popping over the curve of your heaving body, “The other head’s coming out now.” Double-taking between Oin and you, Nori bursts out, “The other head?” “Congratulations,” Oin agrees roughly, hands glistening with blood as he cuts a cord, “You’re a strong one, my friend- you made two at once!” At that, he bursts into a raucous laugh, gingerly transferring each of your sons into Nori’s arms. Bringing them closer, your husband grins like a dwarf showing off his most precious gems. “Look at that, love, two for the price o’ one. Our handsome little lads.”

Ori

Ori had been asking you every day at just about any hint of discomfort if the baby was coming, jumping up before you could tell him no, just a hard kick or your back troubling you again. Thus, the same he had done that day, so caught in the fray of his actions that he failed to think about why you weren't stopping him. At least, that was, until you finally met his eyes with a nod and a nervous smile that sent him pitching sideways. Only, of course, to promptly catch himself and, wide-eyed, take your hand and lead the way.

~

"You sure you want 'im in here?" Oin asked you, peering up with a teasing glint in his eye. "He looks more afraid than you do!" "He is my husband," you replied indignantly, tightening your grip on Ori's hand, "And I am quite certain I would faint too if I saw the head half-stuck right now." "Oh, beyond half," the healer told you, "Couple good pushes and I daresay you'll be done." Hearing Ori's gasp of excitement had your eyes shining with even more determination than the older dwarf's words, and focusing all your might you pushed and pushed until you felt a weight lifted, your body relaxing. "He's out! A little lad, too!" "Hear that?" Ori turned to you, gathering you up into his arms. "We've got a son! Our son is here!" "'N he's a gentle thing," Oin told you, laying him in your arms, "Didn't even fight me." "He's sweet," you gushed at the sight of your son nuzzling into your bare skin and leaning up to kiss your husband's cheek, "Just like his da."

Fili

“I think I’m in labor.” “You think?” Blue eyes wide and golden brows raised, Fili stares incredulously at you. “I feel it. I feel the pain. But where is my water?” Glancing back up, you see your husband inhale sharply, exhale and steady his expression. Truly a king in the making. “Oin will know,” he tells you, urgently but calmly, “Let us go.” Nodding and taking a deep breath of your own, you take his hand and make your way.

~

Labor indeed. All the other signs matched and soon- or far sooner than you had hoped- you are pushing, Fili’s hand firmly clasping yours and his head resting atop your own, braids dangling over you as you pant and work. From your feet, you see the healer’s eyes widen and lips part, rounding in surprise. “Is something wrong?” “No, no,” Oin shakes his head, “This is simply a marvel. Your heir coming in a veiled birth.” Frowning, you immediately ask him what he means. “See for yourself,” he replies, showing you the reason your water had not broken. The baby had emerged still inside the birth sac. “Does that harm them?” Fili asked. “Not at all. This is just a very rare sight. You may not want to watch this part.” Fili took both of your hands in his, leaning his forehead against yours as Oin extricated and cleaned the little one. “A veiled babe and a girl. What are the odds?” Accepting your daughter, you grinned up at Fili. “We have a princess!” “Our little queen in the making,” your husband agreed, caressing your daughter’s cheek as a rear rolled down his, “A true miracle.”

Kili

Poor Kili- you had been sitting on his lap when the break happened. Venturing your name with the utmost caution-and fear of your hormones- your husband asked, “Do you, by chance, need help getting to the lavatory?” Shaking your head even as it was hidden in your hands, you told him, “No. Kili, that was my water. The babies.” “Now?” “Now,” you agreed with a nod. Shooting up from his seat and all but yanking you into his arms, he lifted you bridal-style. “Kili, you’ll get wet!” “Already am. May as well give the babies as much time with Oin as possible.”

~

As much time ad possible being a near-record-speed delivery of three and a half hours. “Impatient little buggers,”Oin teased, tossing aside a red-stained cloth, “But strong little fighters. The sister kicked especially hard!” Chuckling, he lowered the aforementioned girl twin into your husband’s arms, handing you your son. They squirmed considerably less when you held them, both of you loosening your upper garments to hold them against skin. “She gets it from her mother, no doubt,” Kili teased with a wink as if he wasn’t crying, “But the good looks? That’ll be us both. This is all so beautiful. This is the most beautiful thing beyond anyone's imagining. Thank you for being the one to share this with me.”

Bilbo

"Are you sure I can't get you anything?" "Yes, Bilbo," you chuckled despite the pain coursing through your body, "All I need right now is to have you with me." "And Matilda," your husband named your neighbor and midwife who was on her way. "And Matilda," you agreed with a faint nod, "Now come here. Please." "Of course, dear," Bilbo agreed, shuffling across the room so quickly you could hear every hard step clattering off the boards.

~

"Is she going to be alright?" "Yes, she's still doing great," Matilda replied with an equal mix of amusement and exasperation at your husband, who leaned over to speak to her and immediately balked at the sight of your body dilated, a head beginning to emerge. "I- I feel a bit faint." "Try being me," you shot back as he returned to your side fully. "You're right," he nodded, fingers curling even tighter around yours for the last pushes. After what felt like ages, Matilda finally called up "Cutting the cord!" Her voice barely rose above the cries. "Hear that?" "I do," you answered Bilbo with a nod, tears welling up in your eyes. "You should be proud," Matilda told you, cleaning up your babe and handing her off to the pair of you, as both of you extended hands simultaneously, "She's beautiful." Bilbo lowered her to where you lie, pushing back the folds of her blanket so her skin could touch yours. Wispy hair curled atop your newborn daughter's head. "I never thought anything could be so beautiful, but here we are," your husband told you, voice barely above an awed whisper, "My girls."

Thranduil

"Thranduil." Your husband smirked at the way you panted his name, glancing upward only for that very expression to melt into horror at your buckling knees. Rushing to grasp your hand, he simply says, "It is time, is it not?" Nodding, you allow him to lead you all the way to the healing chambers, breathing heavily and wincing with each crashing wave of pain.

~

Despite his wide eyes, your husband keeps calm and speaks well the entire birth. "Focus on what is above you," he distracts, golden voice soothing as ever, "What do you see?" "Branches," you breathe, huffing with the force of your latest push, "Lights." "Remember the festival of starlight?" "I daresay that was when we conceived," you grunt, "Remind me to write an edict discontinuing it." At that, Thranduil simply chuckles deeply and winces at the way your voice breaks into tears. "Good," your midwife encourages you, "One more push, My Queen. One more. That is it. Find your strength." Your face contorts in frustration, but you comply, body wracked with one final stab before lying still. "Well?" Thranduil immediately asks. "Is the child healthy?" "Small, but breathing very well. A lovely little princess, My Lord." "My little princess," he all but gasps, head swiveling back your way, "Our daughter is here." A weight falls into his arms, and leaning down Thranduil reveals your little gift to you. Eyes still closed, your daughter wails and reaches for the air with delicate little hands. "Our beautiful woodland princess."

Feren

"Feren." "Yes, my love?" "Feren," you breathe with greater insistence in your loss for words, "I think it is happening." "Right now?" "Yes," you sit up in bed, throwing the blankets off your lap and inhaling sharply. Luckily, you have no need to tell your husband twice; he all but bounds across the bedroom to retrieve your things and find a robe to wrap you in, one hand guiding you up and to the side of the bed. "Breathe, breathe. One moment; I will fetch help." At first, you were reluctant to release his hand, but finally you nodded and let him go. When he returned, a midwife rushed to your side where you squatted and your husband to the other, where he took your hand and immediately winced at your vicelike grip.

~

Both you and Feren were red in the face and streaked with tears before you heard the wail; your husband from the pain of his hand and of hearing and seeing your body, voice, and expression all rent in agony. Every head in the room turned to face the sound, though, pain almost forgotten. With a soft white cloth that quickly reddened, your midwife cleaned the skin of your newborn. Who was, by the looks of it... "A son! My darling, a son is born to us! Our little boy is here." "Let me see," you cried out, reaching your hands for the elfling extended to you and lowering him to the bared skin of your chest. He was beautiful. "Perfect," you sobbed, "He is perfect." "Just like you," Feren adds with a kiss to your forehead.

Bard

The moment you crumpled, Bard took one look at you and nodded solemnly. “One moment,” he told you, rushing back into the house and calling requests to the girls. Through a wave of pain you saw Tilda hand her father the bag you’d packed as he made his way back to your side. You felt your hand clutched tightly again. “We make for the midwife’s.” At that, all you could do was nod. Luckily for you, she lived close enough that you needn’t take a barge, though the increasing difficulty of hurried walking and weaving through crowds of fisherman and sellers almost had you wishing you did. Your husband called to them to move, his wife was in labor, and luckily many of them began to part at that. All too soon another wave of pain came and Bard hoisted you into his arms, carrying you over the raised threshold of the wooden house that was your midwife’s home.

~

Hours. Hours it took, hours that wracked your body and soul as your mind was kept knit only by the grace and care of your husband. The midwife's care as well, of course, but all memory beyond the veil of pain went to the feeling of his hand around yours. Bard's grip, warm and solid right up until the moment cries filled the room. "It's a girl," the older woman breathed from at your feet, "A healthy little girl." "A daughter! Oh," Bard told you, bringing your baby closer, "The girls will be thrilled. And look, see how she looks just like you." Looking down, you pushed aside the blanket from your newborn daughter's head, seeing soft strands of hair the same color as yours. "As I had hoped," your husband added.

Beorn

“Three babies. Remind me again why it had to be three babies.” “My people commonly-” “I know, I know!” One arm slung over your shoulders and one tightly gripping your waist, Beorn led you from the garden back into the house. “Do you care to lay or to squat?” “Squat,” you panted. Acquiescing your request, your husband releases you at the bedpost once your hands leave his to grip the wood. “Let me boil some water. I will be right back.” Sometimes you wished he would be less serious. This was not one of those times. Calm washed over you at the sheer capability Beorn displayed, the confidence so present or so well affected. Taking a deep breath as a contraction hit, you attempted to mirror his manner.

~

“There was one. How do you feel?” “Lighter,” you groaned in between pushes. “Glad to see you have yet to lose your sense of humor. That one was a boy, my heart. Our firstborn son has arrived.” “A son,” you breathed, wincing as another massive contraction came. “Yes, yes, that is it.” A second cry filled the room, this one a bit quieter than your son’s. “And a daughter. Only one more. Whether you know it, you have the strength.” Finally a third set of cries filled the room, these the loudest by far. “Another son. Two boys and a girl.” Smiling, Beorn gently lowered one of your sons into your arms, the other babes swaddled in each of his. “This one looks like you,” you remarked, smiling at your husband though you did not bother peeling your eyes from your new baby yet. His eyes were well occupied with your daughter anyhow. “And I can tell this one will have her mother’s eyes. Much more beyond that, we can hope. …Hope. For my people after so long.” Eyes falling shut, Beorn let tears of joy and relief flow from his eyes before bringing you and his other son into one massive embrace.

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[katt-grek-kytalizia]

I will write one more if anyone wants me to. I'm really a silent writer who never lets anyone see what I've written so this is something innocent and a bit frisky and well, all I can say is that I pray no one steals my fantasies, or headcanons, like I said I'm new at this game. love to all and have a blessed day, let your dreams go wild, and write them down for everyone to share in the story.

A New Life

I'm new to this kind of writing, so here goes...

While walking along a path in the forest, I came upon what looked like a body lying face down along the shoreline. I was curious and ran over to see if he/she needed help. I turned the body over and saw that he needed help. I touched his face and felt under his nose for some hint of breath. I didn't feel anything, so I pulled his body out of the water and got him up on my back so I could carry him back to my uncle's barn. Halfway to the barn, I heard him speaking in my right ear...

Feren: Meleth, Where are you taking me?

Katt: I'm taking you somewhere to warm yourself.

Feren: Why would you help me, I am no one to you.

Katt: I was a no-one to you too, yet 5 weeks ago, you saved me from freezing to death. So it is my honor to help you, please trust me?

feren: I saved your life 5 weeks ago?

Katt: Yes now stay still Meleth-nin so I can take care of you.

Feren smiled as Katt carried him up the rickety ladder that was in her Uncle's barn. When they were up in the clean hay loft, he saw a soft mountain of hay covered slightly with a big gray and white blanket. Katt walked over to it and gently lay him on it. Then she covered him with another blanket, then got up to get something warm for him to eat. Just then, his brothers Elros, Galion, Alion (Galion's twin brother,) and cousins: Thranduil and Aubergine, All Sons & Elite Knight of High King Oropher, his brothers came to the barn and asked my aunt if she had seen their youngest brother. she said that she had not seen him but if they would want to, shit, she told them to come into the barn and have a look around. they did and I was just taking some food up to Feren when Aubergine stepped in and saw me heading up the ladder, he called up to me and I froze in my tracks. he started up the ladder and I confessed that Prince Feren was resting in my bed. my aunt was astonished and when I saw the look on her face, I reassured her that I found him face down in the river and brought him here to recover. she had a better sense of why I had an Elven prince in my bed. Prince Aubergine came up the ladder behind me and when we got to the top, he saw Feren asleep in the hay bed. He called out to the others to come up and when they came up, Feren woke up and was greeted by them with happiness and hugs. i placed the food out on the table and poured some wine in the cups I had in my room. I let Elros know that there was something for them to eat and then I went down the ladder so they could be alone with their brother. My debt was paid in full and now I could get on with my life. Their Majesties helped their brother down from the loft and placed him on his horse, they thanked my aunt and me for helping Feren and feeding them. Then they rode away.

My Aunt turned and looked at me and asked me why I left them alone. I told her that it wasn't my place to infringe on being in their presence. I also said that I couldn't expose myself to them as an alien from another realm and how I came to be in their world. They might have put me in their father's dungeons and experimented on me. She understood why and we went back to the loft to get my things so I could go into the house and live with her. we were both a pair of ladies from another galaxial realm and most times people who find out that there were strange ones amongst them, they'd do one of two things to us...1) hunt us down and kill us, or 2) capture us and sell us into slavery. We couldn't allow anyone to know where we were from or who we really were. Who are we? We are visiting royalty from the second part of our realm, and we'd come to find my Aunt's sister, Agatina. She hoped she'd be where we were living, but the barn was locked up and so was her house. Had something bad happened to her to abandon her land and home? we stayed there for as long as we could and it was my fault that I found the prince when I did. I was washing my feet in the water and then foraging for berries and other herbs for my Aunt's tea when I came upon his body lying on the shoreline. it's not my nature to just not check to see if someone needed help or not, I had to go over and check it out. if those princes come back for us, we might be on the chopping block when they find out who we really are.

After three days of waiting for something to happen, My Aunt Atina and I heard some strange voices coming towards our house, nothing happened and that's when we decided to leave. Agatina would have to find us now if she were still alive. So during the 4th night, we gathered and packed up our belongings. We were just about to head out when we heard a knock at the front door...Auntie froze in her tracks and I went to have a look outside the window's edge. At first, I didn't see anyone there, but then I did and he saw me peeking out the curtain. Then he went to the door again and turned the knob, was it locked? No, it wasn't and we hugged each other as the door slammed open against the wall behind it. he walked closer to us and reached out his hand to me, he spoke softly to me to take his hand. I opened my eyes to see Prince Feren standing in front of me and Auntie Atina. I went towards him and wrapped my arms around him and Auntie came up and did the same. he assured us that he came here to help us get to a safer place because the villagers were spouting off at his brothers the day I saved his life about there being strange women in the bend. They'd want the princes to investigate us but Feren stepped in and said that I was his fiance. he said that me and my Auntie were from another part of their land and if any harm came to us, he would treat them as he would an enemy.

Aunt Atina stood proud before his majesty as he held me close to him. She touched his right arm and asked him why he'd come back and he said that he wanted to get us to safety because idiots do not always take advice. We parted just long enough to get our bags and head out the door. His brothers Aubergine and Elros rode up with a carriage, Auntie went up into it and Feren insisted that I ride with him back to Mirkwood Palace. He helped me up on his horse's back, then mounted up behind me. He wrapped one arm around my middle and held me close to him then took the reigns with the other hand and charged his steed to "Lenna! (GO!)"

His horse shot off like lightning had hit it. He was in complete control and such a master horseman and I felt really safe with him. He got us safely to his father's palace and when he dismounted his steed, he helped me, as I was being brought down, he brought me so close to him that I felt his heartbeat through my chest, and at eye level, he kissed my rosy, pink lips. Oh, how I melted in his strength, and just as the carriage pulled up behind us, the front door opened and we were caught kissing each other by his father and sisters, Tauriel and Eurielle. They of course were very happy that their little brother had a sweetheart and his father walked over and welcomed me into his heart with a big hug and kissed my forehead. Prince Feren had a big smile on his handsome face as he followed us into the palace. Tauriel and Eurielle were quick to crowd around me when HK Oropher walked into the dining room to refresh his thirst.

Aunt Atina walked in with an entourage of Princes who escorted her to the dining room where we met up with each other. everyone sat down around a large table and shared a meal with each other, Feren at my right and Tauriel at my left. the meal was brought to the tables, my Aunt was very happy to be able to have her choice once again. we were living off the land while out there in Agatina's home. not much at all and going into the village was a no-no, she would say. then a woman walked over to our table and stood in front of my Aunt, she grabbed something from her plate, and Feren shouted at her to return it and leave us alone, she refused to do it, and then my Aunt said that she knew the woman and that it was her nature to challenge whomever she thought a threat to herself and her way of life. High King Oropher knew that there was something more to what was happening and then the women flipped the table we were sitting at and grabbed me by the throat. My Aunt told Prince Feren to take care of me and when she stepped over to us, Aunt Atina brought her weapon and engaged the woman while Feren and Aubergine were helping me get away. Oropher ordered them to the back gardens if they really wanted to fight it out. They went and the woman had her friends jump my aunt and she died from the beating. Feren held me close to him and Oropher told him to take me to Rivendell for a few weeks. He didn't hesitate, he got me out of there as fast as he brought me. I think I cried most of the way. He held me closer to him and when he had reached the bridge that led into Rivendell, he asked me who that woman was and I said that I didn't know, he read my mind and was satisfied, then rode across the bridge and Elrond walked out to greet us. Feren carried me into the palace where Elrond's servants escorted us to our apartments. Tauriel and Eurielle came shortly after dark with news of what happened after we left. they told Feren because I was still in too much shock, my great aunt had been killed and the other one was still missing and I had no one. while everyone was talking in another place within the palace. I got up from my bed and stared out the big window in my room. while I was sitting in the big window, Feren came in my room...

Feren: Meleth-nin, when did you wake up?

Katt: I heard riders coming in the wind and then I heard strange voices speaking in the distance, I couldn't sleep anymore, so I got up and came over here to look out the window for a while, it is so peaceful here, can I live here for a while?

Elrond heard what I said and entered the room...

Elrond: Imladris is a place for all who need comfort and care. You can stay for as long as you like.

Katt: I just couldn't stay without contributing something to the extra cost that would ensnare you Arin-nin, I can bake a lot of delicious foods, pastries, and Lembas. My Aunt Atina taught me how to make it. She liked my take on her time-old recipes.

Feren: What changes did you make to them?

Katt: I am a Pastry Chef and when she was teaching me to make the Lembas, I added Cinnamon, Pecans, Black Walnuts, and Almonds, then sometimes I would add Cocoa Powder and Dried Berries. I have an extensive line of personal pastries where I come from. I can help your economy by baking for you, for my continued stay. Please allow me to help you to help me?

Elrond: I will allow this, I would very much like to try some of these variations you have spoken of.

Feren: Me too, May I stay here as well? I wouldn't feel right just leaving Katt here without my support too.

Elrond: A kin to me that you are and being welcome in my home is your fortune. Rest for a while longer my lady, Feren come with me for a while. Katt, My daughter, Arwen, wants to meet you, will you allow a visit from her?

Katt: I will, thank you Arin-nin. Nin Feren, Hannon-le, Meleth-nin.

Feren's eyes grew wide as he walked over to hug me before leaving the room. His hug was really warm and felt so good, I didn't want it to end but duty had it and he had to go with his Uncle Elrond.

Princesses Arwen, Tauriel, and Eurielle came into the room to greet me. We sat and had some tea that Arwen brought with her. Eurielle brought some finger foods to share with me and I opened up my backpack and brought out some cookies and fudge brownies.

We sat down and started our conversation. We giggled at what each other said about their families and lives. It was like being back home with my sisters. Oh, how I needed this companionship once again. tears welled up in my eyes, they saw them fall from my eyes and they comforted me with smiles, hugs, and wonderful care.

when we were finished, Feren came back and I gave him some of the leftover treats that weren't eaten. when he sat down, I placed the tray in front of him and then massaged his strong shoulders. He moaned softly as I rubbed out the tension in them. When he felt better, he took my right hand guided me around his chair, and pulled me gently onto his lap. He held me there while I fed him his treats. He kissed me several times between eating his fare. He was so handsome and strong and I could have easily given into his touch but I must remain a virgin till I am In love with him and we are married. Would he want that with me? I am half-human and half-elven and he's 100% Elven. could that ever happen between us? Oh, my heart please stay focused on him for a little while longer. Forget what traumas we've gone through to get here. I want to be here with him right now and nowhere else. When he was finished eating, he wrapped his arms underneath me and stood up then carried me to the bed. He lay me in it and then kicked off his boots and lay beside me. We fell asleep in each other's arms.

I woke up once more hearing someone talking around me. Were the walls here so thin? What if we were busy with one another, would someone have heard us? I was going to get up and sneak out so I wouldn't disturb him. I had to go to pee, so I got up and left without waking him. I went and did what I had to do then as I was coming back, he was sitting up on his right arm waiting for my return...speaking to me while patting the bed with his left hand... Feren: Meleth-nin, Come back to the bed and lie with me.

I kind of shied at his words, then he started to get up and I rushed back to the bed and got into it with him. He smiled big at me then he wrapped one arm up and under my back and he pulled me really close to him, then with the other hand, he brushed my hair from my face and planted a very passionate kiss on my lips and I melted once more in his kiss. He knew it too because I didn't fight to get away from him. He kissed me several times then lay his face in the crook of my neck and fell asleep. I went to sleep too. We slept with the blankets off, we were very warm in each other's arms and he didn't snore too loudly when he did, I would giggle a bit then he would tone it down with what sounded like a purr and then under his breath deep giggle and we'd fall back to sleep.

We slept in each other's arms till the morning sun started rising over the mountain peaks. He woke up first, got out of bed, and went to relieve himself. A knock came on the door, I woke up to see him wearing a long dark green robe and nothing much else. I checked myself out, yeay, I was still dressed. Maybe he was getting ready to bathe himself. Then he turned around and opened up the scroll that he'd just been given, his robe fell to the floor, and I saw him naked and I ducked under the blanket as fast as I could. he ran over to the bed and sat down on it, reached under the blanket and pulled me up to him and he kissed my face, neck and lips over and over, then he lay with me again. Pulling me close to him and then rolling me over onto my back, he kept kissing me and I enjoyed every part of his attention then another knock came on the door and he yelled out to whoever it...

Feren: I am with Indis-Nin! Drego!

Katt: Meleth-nin, Who was that?

Feren: Do you love me enough to marry me? To make love with me? To have my children? To cook, bake, and sew the ground for me?

Katt: I do, Why do you ask me this? Don't you feel my heart every time we are alone with one another? Do you not feel it when you hold me and kiss me the way that you do? Do I not enjoy your touch? I do want you, I do love you and I would like to know when you are going to be free to start making those sweet babies with me?

Feren: Marry Me! Katt: I Will!

Then Feren kissed me again and this time he rolled me over on top of him and he asked me to sit up, straddle his body, and settle myself on top of him. I did and he moved enough to be comfortable while underneath me. then whoever it was at the door banged on it harder and yelled at him to come out. I heard a rather familiar voice screaming at him from the other side and then he rolled me over onto my back, my legs were spread wide still and he lay between them. he raised my gown and asked me to trust him, I said that I did and then he pressed his manhood onto my inner thigh and moved up and down with me. He wasn't inside me but rather against my inner thigh. The door gave way and the women that were outside the door rushed into the room and found us in that particular intimate position with one another, he yelled at them to get out and they ran out of the room screaming and crying. One of the guards came and shut the door for us. he didn't look in the room at what we were doing and then Feren got off of me and apologized to me for what he did. I giggled at what he said, then admitted that I thought he was going to consummate their marriage before we were married, he turned around and smiled at me again, he started laughing at what I said, and then he stood up and went back to the bathroom and finished what he was going to do originally, bathe himself. I watched him walk away, not so much afraid of seeing him naked now, after what we nearly did to make a point at the bratty bitches that barged into our bedroom. While he was bathing in the tub, I walked into the bathroom, the room was filled with steam so he couldn't see what I was wearing, and then I climbed up into the tub with him. He moved over to me and pulled me close to him, he felt alongside my left side, he felt that I was wearing something and asked me what it was, I said that it was a swimming suit and it would allow me to help him bathe without being naked with him just yet. He smiled and turned around and sat between my legs so I could wash his long light brown hair for him. When it came to rinse his hair, he would slip under the water and then come up facing me with a smile then he would kiss me and pull me underneath the water with him. We came up in each other's arms, kissing each other happily. then he'd dunk under the water once more and run his hands up my sides and under my back and then emerge above the water and pull me close to him, kiss me again and again, then laugh as he made me purr with his every touch. I would purr for him and he would for me too. Then another knock came on the door, this time it was on our bathroom door and he yelled out to find out who it was, it was again one of those bratty women from before. She walked into the bathroom dropped her robe and climbed into the bath with us. She came really close to us and Feren stood up, grabbed her up, and forced her out of the tub, she screamed that she was pregnant with his baby and he dropped her into the water and turned to see me. he shook his head and she stood up and reached to touch his penis. he didn't fight her off of him and that was my cue to get out and leave. he fought with her as I ran out, grabbed my clothes, and backpack, and went to color. I was a trained Ethereal Knightress on holiday with my Aunt Atina and now that she was gone, and the one I thought I could be in love with and become his bride for real, we find out that he's going to be father to one of the 3 Madame's Bratty daughters! I felt cheap and hurt, even though nothing sexual between us happened, but I could have done it with him for real. I felt really bad but I had to get out of there before I killed that woman. was she lying to him or was it for real? I didn't stick around to find out. All I knew was that I had to go and find out where my ship was so I could go home again. My aunties were gone and I hated being alone in a strange place, so going home was all I wanted to do now. Phooey on getting married. He was sweet and frisky and I could have been his forever, but...

[imagine-all-the-elves]

Imagine Feren bringing you your favourite berries.

Author: Anonymous

[caedmonofwhitby]

Detail from John CONSTABLE East Bergholt, Suffolk

Cloud study 1821

Oil on paper pasted onto oak panel

In an age when landscape painting was considered an inferior art form, Constable was ahead of his time. Ironically, although his paintings are imbued with a love of the English landscape, particularly the scenery around his native Suffolk, he found greater success in France than in England.

His scientific approach to nature was greatly admired by the French Impressionists of the later part of the 19th century.

Wishing to record exactly what he saw, Constable often painted out of doors. He considered the sky to be the key note in a landscape and executed many rapid sketches, such as this Cloud study, capturing the English weather in all its moods.

See the painting at

FERENS ART GALLERY, HULL

[nb-n0v4]

making this post again since tumblr ate my first one :( finals were kicking my ass for the past few weeks but we’re done now! speaking of finals, have some art (the last one references the painting “strength” from the tarot of imagination by Ferenic Pinter.