#he-lives-on-mirkwood | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewickedspinster · 6 months ago

Text

Of Eternity (Thranduil x Reader)

pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader

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

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

Tathrenion = son of one willow-made

requested by @starlight5cat

Of Eternity

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You do not like him."

"What of it?"

"He is the reason you fled your home."

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It is unfair to -"

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

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

"It will put him in danger."

"It will give him power."

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

"Or a crown."

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

Elrond only watched her in return.

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

~~~

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

Y/N was beginning to lose her patience.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tathrenion-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then tell me what I was to you."

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

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

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

"And that makes me whore to a king."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Did you know?" He murmured hoarsely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He will have to fight soon."

"Then this Necromancer..."

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

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

"My forces are strong."

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

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

"It will always stand. Unless you change."

"Would you come home?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thranduil smiled.

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiled. "Eternity."

#thranduil x reader #lotr #the hobbit #the silmarillion #fanfic #f!reader #please be kind this is my first fic

711 notes · View notes

thewulf · 7 months ago

Text

Entwined Realms || Legolas

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

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

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.1k +

TW: Talks of war/death

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist Sign Up: @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kenn-spencerswifey @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

509 notes · View notes

thesummerestsolstice · 8 months ago

Text

Reasons Elrond should absolutely have Necromancy privileges:

He deserves them

We need more kind, good necromancers

What is necromancy but healing taken to its furthest extent?

No seriously the idea of rescuing people from death should be seen as a healing ability; it totally makes sense that Middle-Earth's greatest healer would be able to practice it

It also makes sense that someone with healing knowledge who understands how people work would be able to do necromancy without horrible consequences, as opposed to someone like Sauron who has to brute-force it

I think Elrond deserves as much craft-related hubris as any other Noldor

Great excuse to write Eldritch Peredhel stories

Great excuse to write fix it stories

Alternately, adds another layer of tragedy to the times Elrond couldn't heal someone, despite his power

The vibes are immaculate

It lets Elrond curse out Sauron for being a shitty Necromancer after having one too many cups of wine at Mirkwood's summer solstice festival

"Necromancer?? Please, that bitch probably doesn't even know how the circulatory system works. Oh he can make people live forever? Yeah, I have seen the Nazgul, no he absolutely can't. He pretends to be some prodigy at keeping people alive, like I don't know damn well that he couldn't even handle a cold without resorting to blood sacrifices. He's an even worse Necromancer than he is a smith, and that's saying something."

#silmarillion #elrond #elrond peredhel #sauron #silm meta #eldritch peredhel

573 notes · View notes

goldkirk · 2 months ago

Text

what right did Tolkien have to make the saga with Gandalf slow-burn gaslighting Beorn about just how many people were actually about to show up on his doorstep. One. After. Another. SO FUNNY. 😂

———

Beorn: who are you two

Gandalf: absolutely nothing to worry about, first of all. and second of all, I’m Gandalf and I’m a wizard. Fyi. Also you might not know of me but you likely know my bro Radagast, he lives over by Mirkwood and he’s pretty chill

Beorn: he is pretty chill. not a bad dude for a wizard. Okay I know Who You Are, now what do you want?

Gandalf: to be honest my dude. we’re fucked up. no luggage. no food. no weed. hardly even our own coats. We had some issues with the goblins you see

Beorn: Why the fuck did you go to the goblins??? dummy??

Gandalf: we didn’t do it on PURPOSE, we were—it’s a long story my guy

Beorn: Well you’d better get in here and start telling it then, I guess.

Gandalf: ah thanks!! Cool. So, where was I? Oh right. Over the mountains we came, and the storm, and the rock giants, and we found this cave went to sleep, and then suddenly the goblins grabbed This Very Hobbit [pats Bilbo’s head like a used car salesman] and our troop of ponies—

Beorn: TROOP of PONIES?

Beorn: what do you mean TROOP of ponies. What are you, a traveling circus?

Gandalf, mentally: [do not say yes. do not say yes. do not say yes. do not say yes.]

Gandalf: oh no, there were more than two ponies bc there’s more than two of us!!! I didn’t want to bother you with more of us until I found out if you were busy. I can call ��em if you want?

Beorn: go ahead, whatever

[Gandalf proceeds to lowkey gaslight the man for a while as multiple rounds of DWARVES and MORE DWARVES and EVEN MORE DWARVES show up]

Beorn: these are dwarves. not hobbits or wizards. you brought dwarves?

Beorn: wait eight of you? You just now said a dozen. Twelve is not eight. Is it twelve or eight. Bro.

Beorn: the goblins were singing at you? singing songs? “fifteen birds in five fir trees”? since when does a dozen equal fifteen? and it doesn’t even rhyme.

Beorn: don’t pretend that goblins can’t count. don’t lie. Now you’re just disrespecting ALL of us. You KNOW goblins can count perfectly well. Where the fuck are the other three

Beorn: I see. I see what you did here.

Beorn: well now that all FIFTEEN OF YOU are here, maybe NOW you can finally tell me the proper story without any more INTERRUPTIONS.

#lose my mind every time #Gandalf have MERCY on this man you KNOW he knows #you KNOW he’s onto you lmao #lotr #Beorn is so underrated #Gandalf #the hobbit #Beorn #the lord of the rings #Tolkien

280 notes · View notes

frost-queen · 10 months ago

Text

Lady of Mirkwood | (Reader x Thranduil)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22@elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

| Meeting Thranduil

You met Thranduil when the Third age progressed. It was when the Necromancer unknown then but known as Sauron later on claimed the abandoned fortress of Amon Lanc to make it into Dol Guldur. Sauron infected the woods with spiders and orcs. The spiders and the orcs expended their reach claiming more and more for them. Infecting the very nature with their filth and death.

All the elves were forced to leave the woods. Those who fought back were brought down. Countless of lost elves filled the sickening woods. You were amongst some elves that were fleeing. The orcs had increased their stench to the part of the woods where you lived. With a few douzen you were. Fleeing for your lives as the orcs hunted you down. The woods had grown iller. Spider cobs were not too much yet in these parts. But a few spiders having expended their webs out to your lands.

Some elves wanted to stay and fight. They barely lasted long as the pack of orcs were too many. Sweeping them down in a matter of seconds. The others fled as fast as they could. Hatred, anger and sorrow grieving your hearts. You were running trying to stay out of the orcs clutches. The orcs attack made you stumble, dropping to the ground. Surrounded by death and darkness. You thought it was over. You thought you were never going to see the undying lands, but then a bright light appeared between the trees. The illumination blinded the orcs sending them back a bit. The light faded as you could see a small group of elves charge for battle. Lead by a High elf.

The orcs never stood a chance. The High elf approached you, helping you up your feet. The moment his eyes met with his, he was struck. Gasping breathlessly at your grace and beauty. The woods no longer having a place for you, he took you in. Thranduil his name was. King of the woodland realm.

| Life at the woodland realm

Thranduil was smitten with you. For the first time in many ages, the so cocky king found beauty in another. He threated you like a guest with the highest honor. Quarters close to his. Thranduil would host parties just to have an excuse to dance with you. He never let any other elf near you. He wanted you for himself. You sometimes dared to tease Thranduil by speaking to other elves, just to see his reaction. You loved how easily jealous he was. He would come over, pull you gently behind him while urging them in a polite way to leave. Sometimes he would lay his robe over your shoulder to hint to others that you were his.

Underneath the moonlight on a summer's day was when you had your first kiss with Thranduil. Forever giving yourself to one another. He married you a month later never wanted to be parted from you ever again. You became queen of the woodland realm. All the elves present adored you for your righteousness and kind heart. Whenever Thranduil dared to lose his temper, you were there to calm him down. Sometimes you would come along with Thranduil and his army in an attempt to reclaim your woods. When Thranduil saw his numbers dim and almost losing you in a battle, he gave up. Not wanting to see his people be slaughtered or see you in danger. For he could not afford to lose you, his brightest star.

| Legolas

Legolas was born with grace. You loved every little detail of him. Thranduil would be careful at first. For he feared to hold such a fragile creature. He feared he might harm it in any way. You would show him he could do no harm. Taking his hand and bringing it up to Legolas for him to touch. His fingers would brush against his cheek making Legolas flutter a laugh. On that Thranduil was sold. Taking his son in his arms and care deeply for him.

As Legolas grew older, Thranduil insisted he had his features from you. Everything about Legolas reminded him of you. With the coming of Legolas was Thranduil more careful. You were no longer aloud out of the woodland realm. Not wanting anything to happen to you or Legolas. You had to admit it felt a bit lonely being unable to see the old woods. Your home that you missed dearly. With each year it grew colder and deader. Plagued by orcs and spiders. Since you had no where else to go, you focused more on Legolas. Teaching him how to defend himself. It was you who introduced Legolas to the bow and arrow. When Legolas was old enough to have his own bow, he would name it after you.

———————————————

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

881 notes · View notes

milk-lover · 6 months ago

Text

I’m about half way through FOTR and Gandalf and Frodos friendship is melting my heart.

Also I would kill for Sam. Who would kill for Frodo. Which is very based of him tbh.

I’m listening to The Fellowship of the Ring and I’m so happy! I tried to read these books several times but I couldn’t get thru them. Now I’m like 2 hours in and further than I ever managed and I actually am invested and understand the story! It’s really good!

#i am. not quite sure i followed the entire counsel scene. even in audio format #it was a lot of history #umm i know that aragons grandpa (?) had the ring and it was his downfall. then it got lost and eventually ended up w gollum #and then Boromir is from. Gondor? which is far away i guess bc he doesn’t know anyone #idk what he’s doing there tbh #and then Elrond spoke for a really long time i followed none of that. except that the elves all live a long time #and then Legolas is from the elves in Mirkwood. who hosted the dwarves and bilbo in the Hobbit. i remember that #and they were keeping Gollum prisoner but he escaped #and they need to hide or destroy the ring bc it will corrupt whoever uses it (except for Tom Bombadil for some reason lol)#so Frodo needs to take it to Mordor (?) to do that #👍

16 notes · View notes

bastardbloods · 2 months ago

Text

“A King’s Desire”

King Thranduil x female reader

──── You are a human, but you caught the attention of King Thranduil, and he is forcing you to marry him to continue his legacy.

(please read! This is my first time writing this, so please understand my poor wording, its a little bit short too 😭)

The moon rose pale over Mirkwood, bathing Thranduil's kingdom in a cold and silent light. Deep within his palace, made of stone and wood, you stood under the dim light of a candle flickering on the table in the royal chamber. Your dark hair framed a face filled with fire, but your hands trembled, your jaw clenched as the Elven king watched you from his throne of shadows.

"You have no right to do this to me," you whispered, breaking the oppressive silence that stretched between you. Your voice was laden with suppressed anger, though it trembled with anguish.

Thranduil’s gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unperturbed, as if your emotions could not pierce the cold armor that shielded him. His beauty was almost cruel, his fine, ethereal features as distant as the stars shining above the forest. The blue eyes that met yours felt like they were made of ice.

"You are luckier than you deserve," he replied, his tone as soft as it was deadly. "You will be my wife. The line of the Elven kings must continue, and the children you will bear me will be part of that eternity. Your will is not something I need to consider."

You clenched your fists, struggling to maintain your composure. Since being brought to this place, you had tried to escape, cried for help, even wept. But nothing had changed. Thranduil had chosen you. And in his absolute power, you knew no human could defy him.

"You are immortal," you said, your voice breaking. "Why do you care about my years? I am just a human who will live and die long before it even affects you."

A cold smile curved the Elven king's lips, not one of pleasure, but of condescension.

"Precisely for that reason," he said, rising slowly from his throne and approaching you. "I am not interested in a companion who lives forever. I am not interested in shared eternity. I am only interested in your blood, your body, which will be the vessel for my offspring. A brief bond, yes, but necessary."

Your heart pounded, and tears burned behind your eyes, but you refused to let them fall in front of him. You would not give him that satisfaction. He could force your body, but he would never conquer your spirit.

"I will never be yours," you spat. "Not even when I am forced to carry your children in my womb."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow at your defiance. It was rare to find such resistance in humans, and though his coldness did not waver, something in your passion sparked a flicker of interest in him. He stopped just a step away from you, leaning slightly so that your eyes met his.

"You are wrong," he whispered, his voice chilling. "You already are."

Without another word, he extended his hand, brushing your cheek with an unsettling gentleness. You shuddered at his touch, but you didn’t move away. There was nowhere to go. In that moment, your life had become a pale reflection of what it once was.

The following days passed in a grim routine. Despite your rejection, your fate was sealed. The elves at court dared not look you in the eye, but you could feel their gazes full of pity and disdain. Each day that passed, you felt yourself fading, becoming a shadow of the person you once were.

One night, as the wind blew through the trees and the leaves whispered promises of freedom, you stood staring into the void, feeling the oppression of your belly already beginning to swell. Thranduil entered the room, his steps as silent as death’s whisper. He approached you and leaned over the bed.

"This will be your legacy," he murmured, his fingers caressing the edge of your hair.

You said nothing, closing your eyes, resisting any form of emotional submission. You could carry his children in your body, but you would never carry Thranduil in your heart.

And in the darkness, where the stars could not reach, you swore that, though they could take everything from you, your spirit would always remain free.

(part 2?)

#king thranduil #thranduil #thranduil x reader

254 notes · View notes

silvantransthranduiltrash · 1 year ago

Text

Out of all the siblings, legolas is the slowest to anger (this is a hc about my au). Unless you legitimately do something to piss him off, like put his loved ones in danger, he will take everything in stride with an air of nonchalance. It’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s just that he’s immortal and thinks it’s way to exhausting to get mad at every little thing. Especially given the circumstances of him growing up in greenwood/mirkwood where there’s always something happening.

As a result, on the quest legolas comes across as very casual about the quest to those who don’t know him. Bc on one hand, yeah it’s an important task, but on the other hand he isn’t really afraid or interested in fucking up bc he let his emotions get out of control.

Besides, outside of Aragorn, Legolas liked the questers well enough, but not to the point where he’d rage at someone threatening them. That changed more over time, obviously, but the fact of the matter is that in the beginning he would have sacrificed any of the walkers, minus aragorn, in a heart beat if it meant succeeding. Thankfully, he isn’t so paranoid or malicious that he felt he would need to, so he just stayed the nice, casual, chill elf he is throughout the quest.

I cannot stress enough how, on one hand, yes, legolas knew and thought the quest and subsequent battles important, on the other hand: fuck it, it’s just a normal day for him. What’s one more battle?

Not enough troops? Outnumbered? Dirty and tired and hopeless? Well damn, that’s happened so often at that point he doesn’t bat an eye.

Legolas is intimately familiar with the death and despair the likes of sauron causes, so he chooses the act positive, he chooses to be casual and happy. He’s not oblivious to the growing shadow, he just refuses to let sauron dictate his life any more than he already is.

It does result him in looking very flighty to his cowalkers though.

*at aragorn and Arwen’s wedding*

Faramir, musing: you know, legolas is much less serious than i would have thought an elf to be. He’s a very light hearted and happy individual and i don’t think i’ve seen him mad at all during the time that i’ve known him. Even during the battles against sauron.

Silvan elf, who overheard him: no one’s managed to piss him off in over a century, and that’s a good thing. Trust me, that’s not an elf who’s temper you want to test, because once you do, it’s quite terrifying.

Eomer, approaching them: really? Because i know i made him mad when i had threatened gimli during our first encounter on the plains.

Silvan: *snorting* trust me, if he actually felt threatened, he’d have lobbed your head off before you even finished drawing your weapon. It’s just a good thing it wasn’t one of his siblings on this quest instead of him. The rest of them are not only 10 times as quick to anger, but are also a lot more vicious and deadly.

Faramir: is that so?

Silvan: yeah, don’t get me wrong, legolas is definitely strong even for most elves, but his family’s just straight up made up of monsters, and he is the weaker one. Not weak, just the weakest of that family.

#lord of the rings #silmarillion #lotr #the hobbit #lotr elves #thranduil #legolas #mirkwood #greenwood the great #silvans #trans thranduil #shamelessly pushing my ‘miriel and thranduil are twins agenda’#legolas lore #legolas is a very upbeat elf bc he refuses to let sauron dictate his life any more than he has to #this in turn confuses many elves bc they’d think elves were supposed to be solomn #one thing the silvans prioritize is not letting themselves fossilize and reminding themselves to live #legolas is a chill laidback elf who hasn’t been pissed off in over a century #so noone knows exactly how pissed he can get when pushed #not wven aragorn #legolas isn’t *serene calm* he’s *life’s fucking shit so might as well appreciate what you can get*#i need people to understand that legolas wasn’t that attached to the walkers at first #that it came later #and that at first legolas absolutely would have sacrificed them for the goal in a heartbeat #no one suspects him of this though because he acts like a bit of a ditz

64 notes · View notes

inthehouseoffinwe · 1 month ago

Text

It always gets me that literally *everything* hinged on the Fellowship getting this *right.* All the battles with Morgoth, Sauron, the events of the last Three Ages and beyond.

This was the final chance.

Either they succeed. Or all those battles and all that pain was for nothing, and Middle Earth falls to darkness.

And if ME does. It’s not far fetched to assume Valinor would be next.

But like it was always about the value of the little people. A value which historically, most people, the Princes of the First Age most of all, didn’t really… realise.

They dragged everyone into their wars and feuds and at the end of everything, everyone suffered for it.

They were out for themselves, because *they* wanted to be kings and queens, *they* wanted revenge, *they* wanted to go back to the wilds of Endorë and doomed everyone alongside them, cajoling and convincing them until they were riled up and probably not thinking straight.

They had to be right. If the rest of their people suffered for their bad decisions… too bad. There was so much pride and arrogance across the Sindar and Noldor both that their power, the thing that made them so great became their downfall.

The people of the Third Age, men and elves and dwarves, might have been ‘diminished’ but that meant they took time to appreciate their people. It means Aragorn at the Black gate sees there are young men from Rohan who are *terrified*, and entirely genuinely without judgement, allows them to leave. It means he goes around place to place, city to city, getting to know everyone as people. Seeing their value, seeing their worth as equal to his own. And he treats them accordingly as just as important rather than making everything about him.

It’s what allows him to deceive Sauron into thinking he’s acting as his ancestors did, proud and self assured whilst the whole quest and everything he does is about helping Frodo. About making sure he succeeds.

As he tells Frodo. “Deeds will not be less valiant because they are unpraised.” And that’s where these great heroes of the past fell short. For them, especially the elves of the First Age, everything was about valour and glory and victory. Literally Fëanor: ‘our deeds will be a matter of song until the last days of Arda.’

We needed the king who knew what it was to be a ranger, scorned despite being the only thing keeping them alive. The king who was a healer rather than a warlord. The man who only wanted his people safe, would pass all great deeds and live hated and homeless if only they could live without darkness.

The hobbits who were so pure of heart, who found joy in the little things. Even Legolas who would’ve grown up seeing Mirkwood steadily fall further and further into darkness, Spiders and orcs steadily encroaching, forcing the elves further into their last stronghold. The Dwarves who’d lost homes and knew their fortresses could only hold so long if Sauron enslaved everyone else.

All of these guys who held family and love for their people above all else. Who wanted a world free of war, who didn’t care for great deeds or ballads speaking of them. Who respected those of lesser official standing and saw them as people with opinions as valid as their own.

They just wanted their homes. They wanted their family and friends alive.

They longed for peace. Not glory or land.

And that’s where those of the First and Second Age failed.

171 notes · View notes

rivendell-poet · 3 months ago

Note

May I request a SFW Alphabet for Legolas? Regardless, thank you for feeding us well <3

Of course you may! Thanks so much for the compliment, hopefully this helps feed the hunger as well <3 (And thank you so much for the request!)

*･༓˚✧❝𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 - 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬❞‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « SFW Alphabet »

Wordcount : 2.7k (not including questions wordcount)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Legolas is fairly affectionate, he loves you and very much wants you to be aware of that, but he doesn't show it in obvious ways. His main way is spending time with you, simply being next to you and listening - staring at you with a quiet focus mixed with adoration. He also does a lot of little gestures, like getting up ahead of time to order breakfast for the both of you because he knew you wanted something hot. Or not getting out of bed at all, and staying put for hours because he knows you've been having a rough few days and you seem to get less nightmares when in his arms.

Does also do traditional shows of affection like giving you gifts (either very extravagant or literally a flower he found that was pretty).

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Legolas doesn't have too many friends, so when he has you you're very dear to him. Very much becomes a ride or die for you - and is willing to do a lot of things for you. Slightly concerning at times. You'll mention something almost impossible as a joke and he'll get his plotting face on, and you have to reassure him that the plot to usurp Elrond is just a joke.

Very much wants you and Aragorn and Gimli to like each other (if you don't) but doesn't understand that he's supposed to socialise with the three of you once he's introduced you guys. Just stands in the corner and stares at you anxiously because he's scared you won't like each other. You and Aragorn coax him back into socialising.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) Somewhat foreign concept to him, elves aren't big on physical touch, so he doesn't initiate at first - simply because he doesn't know what they are. Once he's learnt what they are he'll occasionally initiate cuddling, but generally just comes near you and you have to pull him over.

More enjoys just lying in you, honestly. Is very happy to simply lie next to you and snuggle closer, although the two of you debate if this is a 'proper' cuddle.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) Settle down in the way that you'll always be together and know you both love each other until the end of the world? Because he wants to do that. In terms of having a home and living there forever? Legolas does want a home, but he sees 'home' as less of a specific house and more a general location - Mirkwood is home to him, and he doesn't feel the need to be more specific. He enjoys the aspect of wandering and doesn't want to be tied down (also knows you'll both go to Valinor eventually - so what's the point in building something here?) If you really want to settle down he will, and he's content as long as you let him go off on a small adventure every now and then.

Legolas is not incredible at the act of cleaning itself, but is nothing if not determined. He will clean up that stain using nothing but water and his own shirt, even if it takes too long. Cleans up if he wakes before you. Also, his very presence seems to repel dirt - so you've got that covered. He's decent at cooking, not incredible but works well with a lot of ingredients and it tastes good. Excelles in recepies that require patience, can stand there and stir whatever needs stiring for ages. (If he's bored he has been know to watch food cook, claims it's more interesting than you think.)

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) Elves only fall in love once, so he truly doesn't want to do this. He will stick with you through thick and thin, would walk through fire for you. The only way I can see him ending it is if the relationship became abusive, because he would try to solve and problems the two of you have.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Again, his love for you is the one love he'll have in his life - he is very committed. Will be with you, and probably be committed to an unhealthy amount. To him, marriage isn't necessary but a show of commitment. He's always wanted to get married to you, but he wants to save proposal for that special moment. Also understands it's a much slower affair in human culture. (Bonus : His wedding outfit is a slightly more extravagant version of the outfit he wore at Aragorn's coronation.)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Legolas is very gentle physically, he's generally quite gentle but takes extra care with you. Is very relaxed around you, so a lot of the time when he hugs you or holds your hand it's with almost no force at all. Is very light, so enjoys being able to lay on you without crushing you. Emotionally he leans to gentle, but it's not a conscious choice as he's naturally very caring so doesn't want to upset you. Also sees no reason to not be himself around you, so doesn't try to tone himself down.

Knows he's not great with human emotions, so cares very deeply about learning them. Will sit down with you every now and then to check how you're doing, and if you're happy. Tries to learn your different faces and tells as well as what emotion goes with them. He does pretty well, as he is a very observant person. (Is secretly proud of himself for correctly identifying a lot of your moods.)

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Legolas is fine with hugs, but prefers a little warning. Doesn't like it if you hug him really tightly and pin his arms in your hug - it makes him feel trapped and vulnerable. Plus he can't hug you back. Is good with tight hugs if you let his arms free, although he can never master giving them quite tightly enough. Can never quite master hugs in general, to be honest. You can feel when he hugs you because it's always a very timid start. You have to teach him it's ok to hug you tighter as well, and he does get it eventually. Likes putting his head in the crook of your neck, regardless of your height dynamics.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Accidentally confesses it by calling you 'melleth nîn' while he's complimenting you. You pick it up and question him about it, and he's just like 'yes?'. Of course you're the love of my life, I'm courting you. So of course I love you. Doesn't understand the big deal until you explain it to him. Is apologetic, but confirms he means it. (This is also how he realises that proposal is actually a big deal, and he should make sure to have it be romantic and at an appropriate time.) Will still use it very liberally however.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) More jealous if someone is having a lot of physical contact with you than if their flirting with you, simply because he views it as more intimate. Still, he isn't a very jealous person by nature as he's confident you love him - you're his one and only, so he's your one and only. If he does get jealous he simply inserts himself into the conversation and slowly becomes more and more obvious by dropping hints. (Will plead he doesn't understand human culture the first times he does it.) If it's in a setting where it allows, he sometimes does over-the-top tricks to show-off for you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) Enjoys gentle but long kisses, so that's the kind he tends to initiate. These are on the lips, and you can always tell he wants one because his eyes will slowly focus more and more on your lips before looking to your eyes, as if asking permission. Sometimes if he's feeling mischevious he'll sneak up on you and announce his presence with a soft, very light kiss to the neck. Always in the same slightly unusual but specific place so you know it's him. He enjoys the kisses he likes to give, although a good way to make him slow down and snap him out of him overthinking is a kiss on the cheek. He'll stop and gently put his fingers to it before smiling at you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Is very good at impressing them with fancy tricks, is less good at actually interacting with them. He just hasn't seen many kids so they're a very new phenomenon to him that takes some time to figure out. You have had to stop him giving knives to small children so they can try and replicate his tricks. You know he won't actually let them come to harm, but you don't want him to give their parents a heart attack. Ocassionally, if a child has done something especially odd he stops and blinks at them, processing whatever they've done. This face never fails to make your laugh.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) As an elf, he needs to sleep a lot less than a human so gets up earlier than you almost all the time. If you're a heavy enough sleeper he'll often get out of bed a little before you wake up to freshen up the house, make you coffee/tea if you like that in the morning. If you've expressed preference for a particular food he might cook that. However, he almost always comes back to you before you wake up so you can wake up together. If you're a light sleeper he is more than happy to wake up and simply spend hours in your arms, very occassionally falls asleep in them so when you wake up you have a half-asleep elf cuddling you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Often a bit more energetic than you, but enjoys simply sitting down and relaxing without the need to do anything. Will drag you out to look at the stars if they're pretty enough, although gets pretty good at guaging whether or not you'd want to that specific time. If you're a heavy sleeper he gladly goes to bed with you, if you're a light sleeper he joins you most nights but every now and then stays up a little later. Is very concious to be quiet so you aren't awoken.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Doesn't really occur to him to tell you a lot about himself. Will gladly talk if it comes up, and every now and then you have a few hours where you ask questions about him and he answers them. Even with things he struggles with he is very open, although more reserved and probably wouldn't say until a few months into dating. The times he talks about himself without prompting are usually stories he thinks you'd enjoy hearing - likes to do this while it's quiet and there isn't anything going on.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) He's waited thousands of years to fall in love, he's very patient with you. Happy to talk you through steps a third or even a sixth time without complaint, the instructions just as clear as the last time. The only things that really anger him are when you act recklessly, although that's born out of a fear of losing you rather than anything malicious. Will go over and talk to you instead of bottling up his anger, and is transparent about it.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) It depends on what the topic is. Some topics, like that specific boque you liked with these flowers that had a certain scent and the third rose wasn't in full bloom, he remembers very well. Also good with your armour and personal details. However details that are more 'human' or not very important to him he sometimes struggles to remember. Is still enthusiastic and engages when you share these things with him, however. He just doesn't always remember them as well. If he feels their slipping from memory he sometimes randomly asks you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) He remembers your first day in Mirkwood, and how amazed you'd been by everything. His favourite part of the day was when he realised how bright the stars would look to you after you'd been in Mirkwood's night. The two of you had gone to the top of the trees together and stargazed in each other's arms as you tried to identify the constellations in such a different place. He loves it because it was the blending of the most important things in his life, and your willingness to love him even when he does stuff like this.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) He's grown up for a lot of his life surrounded by guards, so he understands the annoyance of having several people around you everyday. Which is why it's just him! But seriously, he sees the duty of being a guard as an honour - so does enjoy being near you and being prepared to protect you. However, he's good at going into combat so isn't as much 'on guard' as he is simply spending time with you, only a thought in the back of his mind of him doing this to keep you safe. He's most vulnerable when sleeping or trying to go to sleep, so very much appriciates you being there - even more so if you hold him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) Is very good simply because he has the time to do so, and the patience. He's going to be awake for a few hours without you, so why not use those hours doing something for you? Pretty original with this gifts and dates, as he has the means to get variety and the best of the best. Isn't a super craft-y person but you can tell he's really thought about you when he presents you with a gift he's brought. Legolas isn't the best at everyday tasks, although that's more because he had them done for him most of his life. He does try.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) He was a prince, so there are some aspects in which he's slightly spoiled. Although he could do a lot of basic tasks, and tasks that are needed in the wilderness, he does sometimes struggle with more basic things. He's also confident that he'll figure it out, so often doesn't tell you and just keeps struggling. Very occassionally forgets he needs to do things himself if he wants them done, so will leave something out and then be confused why it hasn't been fixed before remembering.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) Quite concerned with his looks - he's an elf. A small part of him thinks elves are mainly known for their beauty, and if he doesn't keep it up you'll lose a lot of love for him/he won't be the elf you married. Cleaning and braiding his hair is often how he tries to regulate his emotions. If he's particularly stressed he'll spend a lot of time brushing and re-braiding his hair, sometimes to an obsessive amount.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) Would not feel whole without you. When he fell in love with you, he gave you a piece of his heart forever - and that piece will always be with you, even if you break up. There's a piece of him missing when you finally pass away, and he'd much rather have Luthien's gift than be without you for all eternity.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) After Gimli introduces him to them, Legolas becomes enamoured by crystals. Collects lots of them, knows how they form and what they symbolise. Has a 'crystal of the week' which he puts on a special black velvet stand and admires it. His reasons for crystal of the week are very cryptic, and he doesn't seem to have particular likes. Will point out random crystals that 'remind him of you'.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Needs someone who appriciates greenery. You don't have to go on hikes with him, or be gardening, but when he shows you something incredible he wants to see that look of wonder in your eyes. Especially when his whole life he's been trying to turn Mirkwood back into the beauty it is after Sauron's defeat, it's an important part of himself that represents healing to him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) Not a heavy or a light sleeper, although he seems aware of his surroundings - even in his sleep. Sometimes goes to bed later than you if you're a light sleeper as he doesn't sleep as long, and he doesn't want to wake you when he gets up. Will happily stay with you just before you wake up for early morning cuddles, however.

A/N : Thanks so much for requesting again! And again, hope you enjoyed! Also, special thanks to you Xiao - both one of my first requesters, but also one of the first people who interacted with my works <3

thank you for reading *･༓˚✧wish to be tagged?

#lotr x reader #lotr x you #lotr x y/n #legolas x you #legolas x reader #legolas x y/n #legolas greenleaf #sfw alphabet #legolas sfw alphabet #sfw alphabet legolas #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #gn reader

156 notes · View notes