#i have thought about thranduil's thoughts about being royalty now

[imakemywings]

“I have the lingering sense I’m doing something I oughtn’t be,” Thranduil said with some amusement when he managed to separate from Elrond to breathe again, which took several efforts at pulling out of Elrond’s chasing kisses. Elrond blinked stupidly at him, his mind admittedly not presently running on all four wheels.

“You think your council would disapprove?” he asked, beginning to gather an argument. Thranduil let out a brief, sudden burst of laughter and his lips twisted into a smile.

“I think Glorfindel would disapprove,” he said. “Surely there must be more pomp and ceremony involved before touching a son of Eärendil this way.” Understanding spread across Elrond’s face at the thrust of Thranduil’s jest—for he assumed it was, though perhaps not in whole—and his eyes narrowed fractionally.

“This son of Eärendil shall be most unhappy if you cease touching him for Glorfindel’s sake,” he replied at once, trying not to put real annoyance into his voice as he climbed pointedly onto Thranduil’s lap. “You may do whatever I say you may do,” he added more imperiously, cupping Thranduil’s face between his hands.

“Very well, my lord,” Thranduil demurred easily, that smile still tugging at his mouth. Elrond could not decide if he was pleased or not by that title, so he simply sealed his lips over Thranduil’s again, and moved the king’s hand where he wanted it best, and Thranduil generously obliged him.

[madwomansapologist]

Autumn Thunderstorm | Chapter 2 - A call to motion

Navigation | Series Masterlist | AO3

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

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

warnings: female!reader. lotr kinda of violence. pre-Smaug. warg. blood. trauma (subtle). fear of being lonely.

glossary: Lossëistar: Ice Mage┆Vendë: Maiden┆Tîrwen: Honest maiden┆Thalieth: Heroine┆Maenwë: Clever girl┆Alassëa rá; Alassë’ arin; Alassë’ aurë: Good morning

The frigid shore was not so different from the frozen river. Dirtier, but as static under your feet as the ice. Or maybe the earth was warm. Maybe the earth was gentle and caring. Maybe it was as it has always been, and you were the one whose now frost. Maybe it finally happened: your lack of control, your lack of knowledge, turned your blessing into a curse. 

The mist surrounding the valley made your fear fade away.

As you walked into the shore, gravel crunching your feet, the freedom of being in the midst of danger was nothing compared to the cold. Looking down, you noticed your numb feet turned white. Your blood was not circulating.

Only when tremors overtook your winning smile the Elvenking managed to find his voice. And he gave in to a king's first nature: a command. “Prepare a hot bath. Forthwith.” Thranduil’s words were not directed at anyone, but his steward hurried to the inn.

Thranduil took a step forward your shuddering shape, but no further. As his foot touched the icy ground, the voices on his mind came to a consensus. Now he understands. What attracts Gandalf’s attention. What was so special that made him keep coming back to that exquisite inn. 

Thranduil understands. And now, with that knowledge, Thranduil chose to get closer to you. “Vendë,” Thranduil spoke softly. “You did not need to act. The river would not affect us. Why did you put yourself in danger?”

Still reeling from adrenaline, for a moment you forgot that the man in front of you was a king. He was just a man, a kind one, asking a question. “Because I would have felt bad if I did not.”

For the second time in minutes, you left the Elvenking speechless. Analyzing your eyes, searching for some hidden lie, he did not even notice the silence. All he did was to let the truth sink in.

But you noticed it, and it reminded you of who Thranduil was. Did you say something you should not? The village is made up of elves, Aerin and her son are half elves, you know how to act around them. The silence must be caused by a royalty norm. You should have called him king, should you not? Or maybe he was waiting for a formality that you did not know should be performed.

Staring into his ocean blue eyes, you bowed. It was a stiff move, your muscles throbbed, but it was the best you could do. The only thing you know about acting around kings is to obey and be polite. The Elvenking is not ordering anything, so your mistake must be about the second one.

Blankets were thrown over your shoulders. Aerin rubbed them against your body, helping to ward off the cold. “You are wetting the king’s feet. Say you are sorry.”

“I am sorry,” you obeyed her without thinking twice. She may not be the kindest person in the world, but she is good. And takes care of you. So when Aerin says you should be sorry, you believe her. You did not even look down to see if she was right.

Before Thranduil could say anything, Aerin guided you into the inn. “Poor thing. Let’s make sure you do not get a cold.”

Gildor approached. “I bet your grace did not imagine your night would end that way.”

“No.” Thranduil was not sure about what surprised him more. Your bravery, or the reason behind it. “I did not”, he whispered to himself.

You felt Aerin’s hands trembling as she helped you into the tub. The water was so hot, smoky, exactly what you needed. Plunged into boiling water, you forgot about everything that was not warmth and twin suns and the color yellow and fire.

Aerin left you to finish your bath with some privacy after you promised her to not sleep on the tub. She walked into her room and took a sip of red wine. Soon she woke you up, complaining that you could have drowned on the tub, and helped you stumble your way to your bed.

Even alone, with everyone else sleeping, Aerin did not stop shaking.

Because she had only one task. Gandalf made sure she would understand it. Aerin had only one thing to do: make sure you would stay with her, in the village, away from danger. But she saw how the Elvenking looked at you. He looked at you like someone that had innumerable questions. And a king’s question always gets its answer.

Aerin had only one task to fulfill, and now she has a problem.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Shattering glass woke him up. Thranduil rose, and even in the dark of the room it did not took him more than a second to find his sword. Illuminated by moonlight, he stepped out his chamber and followed the treacherous sound. 

But all he found was you, on your knees, picking up broken shards in a messy kitchen. Overturned pans, open jars, a mixture of spices in the air. A supper was served earlier, but you looked like you wanted to have one just for yourself. You must be starving.

“Did I woke you up?” You murmured, tiredness almost palpable on your voice. But that was not the only thing he could sense. Thranduil heard your hesitation. Your fear.  “It was an accident.”

Thranduil laid his sword on the table, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. He knelt in front of you, picking up the shards of what was once a cup. He could feel the warmth of your breath. “Have you heard many stories about Woodland’s elves, vendë?”

“I had, your grace.” Vendë. That made you feel warm inside. Most people call you Lossëistar. Have someone ever called you maiden before?

Thranduil knows the reason for your hesitation. “And what did you hear?”

Your smile faded. “That most of you descend from ancient tribes that never went to Faerie in the West. That your magic is strong. That your folk are more dangerous between the elves. And less wiser.”

“Do I look more dangerous and less wiser?” Thranduil asked, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine.

You felt tempted to agree. Thranduil probably is dangerous, but not in a way you should be worried about. You shook your head with a genuine smile. “I cannot even remember the last time someone called me by my name.”

That made Thranduil bite his tongue. Distrust is his second nature, but something tells him you are not a bad person. People could have been nicer to you. “Then stop apologizing. You did nothing wrong tonight.”

You rose, and thanked him because you did not know what else to do. Without paying attention to what you were doing, you took the shards from his hand and left them in a box with some garbage. 

Thranduil circled the table, candles enlightening his golden hair. There is something so alluring about elves' hair. They simply drew attention. His seems to be so soft. You forced yourself to look away.

That was your chance to shut up and not embarrass yourself in front of a king. “Is it true your kind live inside the threes?”

Thranduil slowed down his pace. “It is.”

“So you can decrease in stature?”

Thranduil guffaw. You must be entirely wrong to get that reaction from a king. “Our trees are bigger than you think.”

“It must be a large forest.”

You sat back in front of your improvised supper and went back to eating. Until you dropped your cup, you had been eating for almost half an hour. You offered him food, Thranduil just shook his head and sat in front of you.

“How can I explain this to you?” He held his sword. Thranduil slid his fingers along the hem, looking for a way to make you see the correct image. “It is like a bird house. But instead of birds, it is filled with elves. And instead of lean wood, it is made of ancestral trees bigger than villages. And instead of a simple construction, it is a king's palace.”

You swallowed the food. ”Termite is a problem? Or is the wood magic?”

“Three minutes of conversation and you were more creative than half my generals,” Thranduil was not complaining. Not about you, at least. “It can be impolite, it probably is, but how many stomachs do you have?”

“It is, but I do not mind,” your honesty attacked again. “When I do big things I can get exhausted. And hungry. So hungry.”

“Do you tend to do big things, vendë?” Thranduil looked out the window, seeing the huge frozen wave. To call it a big thing... a euphemism. “It did not look like it was your first time.”

“That dam is a current problem,” you ate more before continuing. “I normally only do big things. It is easier.” Thranduil’s curious gaze made you talk more. “I know it seems stupid, but it is true. I could not freeze a cup of water even if my life depended on it.”

Thranduil was intrigued. How can someone that does things like that face hardship on such an easier task? “Gandalf did not mentor you?”

“No, he is just my friend. Wait. Do you know him?” You smiled, thinking about the old man. A yawn escaped your mouth. “He was here this morning.”

Thranduil arched his eyebrows. At the meeting, Gandalf said he had traveled far and wide. Why did he lied? Why would he need to lie about something like that? What piece of knowledge is missing to form the right outlook?

Thranduil wished he had a closer relationship with the inconvenient pilgrim. Perhaps he would understand the reason for such a small lie. But maybe you are the answer he desires. Maybe it is you that can make him understand why the man respected throughout the continent decided to be unfaithful. “You work for lady Aerin?”

“I take care of the horses.” You pointed in the direction of the stable. Your eyes shone. “I also help lady Aerin with her garden, but because I am the reason for them to crush her flowers. When I arrived earlier, my heart almost stopped because of an elk on the stable. But he was so nice. Big and scary, but he let me pet him and even stole an apple from my basket.”

“So my elk is a burglar.” Thranduil smirked.

“No… I did not meant it that way.” It hurt when you swallowed the food. “He was there and I just…”

When you let another yawn escape, Thranduil noticed how he lost track of time. It is too late. So late it is almost too soon. It is been long since someone talked to him about things that did not really mattered. Conversations beyond council meetings about the possibility of the Enemy still alive, assemblies about his army organization, political discussions that led to nowhere. Something beyond flatterers and cowards without motive. A real conversation.

It is been long since Thranduil laughed without fear of appearing disrespectful. Or tried to find a dumb but functional comparison instead of powerful yet useless phrases to describe his kingdom. Or discovered that apparently people think that Woodland’s elves can decrease in stature to live inside trees. Just a real conversation.

“It is late.” Thranduil said, but only within a moment he stood up. “Enjoy the rest of your night, tîrwen.”

“Same to you, your grace.” You watched the Elvenking disappearing in the hall. “Tîrwen”, you let the word run over your tongue. “I do not know this one.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

By the beginning of the morning, Aerin made her way to the kitchen. Such was Aerin's astonishment when she saw that not only was her pantry attacked, but that the person responsible for such a horrendous crime was sleeping on the table.

Part of your face was dipped in what looked like a mixture between oatmeal, cherry pie and roast pork. Her disgust at your choices was greater than her anger at seeing the mess.

“You behave like a child. A toddler, even!” She pushed you toward your bedroom trying to sound angry. Your hair smelled of cherry, your mouth stank of pork, and what smeared your face was oatmeal. Aerin was laughing more than anything.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Orange leaf, anise and lemon-grass," you murmured to yourself while feathering the straw basket with an old cloth. "That is it?"

Aerin handed you a pot of honey and a jar of strawberries. "Milk. And sage." She folded a cloth and covered the basket. "Do not forget to eat. I do not want you passing out."

"Sage?" You arch your eyebrows. "At this time of the year?"

"I need it for a recipe", lied Aerin. "If you cannot find it in the village, you shall gather their buds in the meadow. Remember where sage sprouts?”

You sighed. After sleeping for most of the day (and eating for most of the dawn), you were not so excited about going all the way down to the village. You could feel a migraine forming right behind your eyes. And considering that summer has already begun to say goodbye, the chances that you will have to enter the meadow are great.

“I do.” You opened the inn’s front door. A cold breeze shivered your cheeks. “Anything else?”

Aerin felt guilty for making you walk so much, but it was for a good cause. The longer you were away, lesser were the chances you would draw even more attention to yourself. And entering the meadow will not hurt you. It will tire you out, but not hurt you. “Good riddance”, she said.

Due to the repairs to the dam, all horses were being used. How amazing for you. Walking down the valley, on the long path towards the village, you passed through many wagons carrying wood and workers. Many elves thanked you, with words or kind gazes, but you did not see the need for it.

To stop the water exhausted you, but it did not maim you. You are fine, just a bit tired. It would be weird if you have not done something. To let tons of water fall right into the village, aiming and drowning hundreds of people, just because you did not wanted to feel exhausted? That would be perverse.

The quick conversation you had last night with the Elvenking came back to haunt you. “Because I would have felt bad if I did not.” As simple as that. You did not even thought twice before doing something. You just did.

And even if it could have harmed you in any considerable way, you would still have done it. After all, you owe this to them. No one here had any obligation to have helped you, and yet they did. Aerin did. You owe it to her. You owe her so much.

Walking alone, trapped with your own mind, things that you wish to forget come back to you like hauntings. Every elve that thanked you, that smiled towards you, that said you were a thalieth: they only remind you about what you owe to them. It all just reminds you of how you got there.

Rain dripping on your face, land penetrating your nails, owls chanting. Wind roaring, trees shuddering: it was like being caged inside a monster beating hurt. So wet, and dark, and frightening. And so fucking loud.

That is how you first woke up, alone in a dark forest, during a thunderstorm. The only thing you could see was a distant light, and you wandered towards it because what else could you have done? When you finally made it out of the woods, following that yellow glamor like it would protect you from all your fears, you collapsed on Aerin’s doorstep.

What a first memory to have. 

It has been a long time since you thought about that. About what happened fourteen months ago. You do not like to do it. It is painful. It makes you feel so lonely. But you were alone now, walking down the dirt path, and that memory at least kept you company.

After the mental scourge, you made it to the village’s core. You roamed the fair, way more tumultuous than usual, seeking Aerin’s orders. You heard whispers about the Elvenking’s frightening presence. About how his army could burn cities to the ground with just a single command. 

That made you chuckle. You heard stories about Mirkwood, but now they do not seem so legit. You do not think a cruel lord would compare his palace to a birdhouse. 

You chatted with the elves, tried a better price for the things you wanted, discovered that no one had sage anymore. And little by little that gray cloud that stalked you disappeared. 

Gradually, leaving you with a bitter taste in your mouth, it faded.

“Are you sure you do not have it? Or anything that looks like it?” You begged the tradeswoman at the last stall. “Honestly I can work with anything green…ish.”

She laughed telling you to just go into the meadow, you sighed and waved. At the village’s entrance, where there were not a lot of people around, you started running. If you get to the sage’s buds soon, maybe you can take a nap. 

You crossed the path and went down an embankment, dirt soiling your dress. It was already old and rusty, a little bit of mud was not a big deal anymore. As you advanced, the weight of your body on the angled ground turned your steps into slips. You almost fell, but you made it to the lowland.

Laughing to yourself, you dropped your basket on a fallen log and searched it for your crimson ribbon. It was so silly, you could have fallen and gotten really hurt, but it was fun.

“As a foreigner I may be wrong, but I am pretty sure that is not a path for a lady.”

You dropped the ribbon into the mud. You turned around, a hand up on your chest, and saw the slim figure leaning on a tree. “Does your grace want to kill me?”

Thranduil moved towards you, slowly decreasing the distance between you both. “I saw you running, vendë.” There was something that resembled a smile on his face. ”Thought you were a damsel in distress.”

“Damsel in distress?” You rolled your eyes. “Nah, I do not think so.”

Something burned inside Thranduil’s chest. “Not in need of help?” He did his best to ignore that fire.

“Lady Aerin demands sage.” You tucked your hair behind your ears. Your ribbon was floating in a mud puddle. “Not a task that requires a king’s escort.”

Thranduil stood in front of you. You had to lift your face to look him in the eye. They were so enveloping. Like a river current that hides treasures while fending any intruders. “...could leave a damsel alone in such an environment?”

Ashamed that you did not listened to most of what he said, you nodded and guided Thranduil into the field. Following footprints that showed a familiar path, you made your way through natural plantations. Sunlight began to irritate your eyes.

“Managed to rest, vendë?”

“I took a nap.” You tried your best to sound energetic. “It was a really good nap.”

“You should be resting.”

“But Lady Aerin…”

“Lady Aerin should have sent her son to the village.”

“I appreciate it, your grace, but there is no need to defend me from her.” You rubbed your hands against the basket. One should not disagree with a king, but you tend to speak before you think. “Lady Aerin has done more for me than anyone ever did, and for that I will always be grateful. I have a debt with her, one that nothing will ever pay. She may not be the kindest, but she is not wicked.”

Thranduil said nothing more. 

For a long minute, you guided him into a wheat field. Leaves tickled your arms, you ran your hands through the wheat as you walked. Warm. The breeze played with the sprouts, and you like to imagine that the field was breathing in and out.

“You are more tender than me.”

You turned your head to look at him, hands still playing with leaves. “Do you consider yourself resentful?” You covered your eyes, protecting yourself from the sunlight so you could see him. All you could see was a dark shape.

“I do,” Thranduil whispered. It was not just a confirmation. It felt like sharing a secret. “My anger can be inconsolable.”

“You were injured, were you not?” You decided to get closer to him. A shadow, almost like sent from above just for you, made you able to see his eyes. Not rivers. They had storms caged inside it. You felt the urge to take his face into your hands, but you kept that desire to yourself. “And no one noticed.”

His calloused hand reached up to caress his face, but Thranduil stopped the involuntary instinct. It was not a question. No one noticed. You did not asked it, you just knew. Thranduil never felt so seen. “I envy those who grew kind.”

“It is so easy to grow kind”, you gave him your brightest smile. “But to turn kind? Oh, this is noble.”

All the Elvenking could hear was his heartbeat. There was a sparkle in your eyes. A certain sort of calculated innocence that only a person who suffered can manifest. It was like you had lived an infinite amount of lives before. “You are… sharp.” 

“I am not”, your bright smile turned into a giggle. You took a step back, suddenly aware of how close you both were. “I do not think so.”

“I do.” Thranduil’s solemn expression got softer. “I do, maenwë.”

“What does that mean?”

“You do not know elvish?”

“I know a few expressions.” You went back to walk through the field. Thranduil followed you. “Alassëa rá. Alassë’ arin. Alassë’ aurë.”

“Three different ways to say good morning.” Thranduil chortle. “Practically fluent.”

“Ouch!” You put your hand on your chest, pretending to be offended. “I thought kings were supposed to be polite and pleasant. I guess it is not a rule.” 

Within a couple of minutes you found the place where sage grows. Analyzing every branch, you tried to distinguish all plants growing there. When you found the frosted pointy leaves, you started breaking a few branches. Your basket was already filled with jars and paper bags, but you found a way to make it fit.

“Done.” You covered everything with a thick cloth and rose from the ground. “Lady Aerin sorted strawbe…”

A howl shut you up.

Thranduil held his sword, not drawing it from its scabbard yet. It was a total change. The relaxed countenance, just waiting for you to pick the branches you needed, became as hard as stone. His long body became more aware of space, you noticed that he straightened up. His eyes scanned the meadow, and you knew what he was looking for.

“There are no wolves in Rivendell”, your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

You were right. There were no wolves in Rivendell. It has never been a problem before for your village or any other under Elrond’s protection. But as another howl crossed the sky, you understood that times have changed. And not for the better.

“You will stand behind me. Will step where I do and nowhere else. You will not talk, will not scream, will not whisper.” That was not Thranduil’s voice. Not the one you know. It was husky, concentrated, immediate. Each order evokes a clear meaning: the best you can do is obey. It was king. 

“Do as I say.” The Elvenking reached out to you. “Trust me, vendë.”

Your response was as clear as his orders: you held his hand.

Thranduil walked fast, analyzing the ground before stepping on it, holding your hand tightly so that nothing could separate you from him. So silent. You followed him as best you could, the basket weighing on your left arm, and your legs not always able to reach the same spots he did. But you never complained, or asked him to slow his pace, because the howls did not stop. They just got louder.

You do not know how he learned the way back so fast, but within minutes you could see the smoke coming from a village’s house. And maybe that made you let your guard down. Because you only saw it when it was right in front of you.

It was twice your height. The claws could cut through wood without difficulty. Its fangs were bigger than your hands. You read books about it, but no draft could ever translate the fear they emanated. A giant wolf. As smart as human, and as malevolent as the most corrupt man. It was a warg.

Thranduil pulled you behind him, you can remember the gleam of the longsword and the weight of his hand on your belly. A black shadow filled your vision. It all happened so fast. A howl, an illusion of movement, and a blur dominating your eyes. Everything happened so fast.

It was not until you felt the golden hair falling on your face that you understood: not a blur, it was an attack. And you were now lying on the floor, sun burning your eyes, with a deep pressure on your shoulder.

Your head fell to the side. Moist grass and a mess that once was a filled basket came into focus. Your eyelids closed, a voice you never heard before told you that darkness had taken you before, and then something shook your body.

You were awake again, and your eyes saw beyond the mess in front of your face. You saw the warg giant body. And you saw his decapitated head.

“There are no wolves in Rivendell”, you coughed. 

The ground has moved away from you. You were flying. But you should not be. You will end up flying and flying and flying without knowing how to get back to the ground.

“Maenwë”, you recognized Thranduil’s voice, and within time you saw his face. He was holding you in his arms. There was blood on his cheek. And when you looked down, you saw blood dripping from your shoulder. “Keep talking.”

The voice spoke to you again, and darkness took over your vision. It was so calm, so warm. You let him envelop you. “I miss the cold.”

[Third Chapter]

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

AUTUMN THUNDERSTORM: @ferns-fics @notanalienindisguiseblink @rayrlupin @elvyshiarieko @graniairish

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[tinytiger]

The Hobbit - A Kili x F!Reader Fanfic

Masterlist

The Truth

The dwarves are unhappy with a meatless meal, and tensions rise when Y/n, with elven heritage, is treated as royalty by Elrond. Y/n asserts her independence and playfully challenges royal norms. A food fight breaks out during dinner, and later, Y/n encounters the dwarves frolicking in a fountain, resulting in a soaked dress. Despite mishaps, playful banter ensues between Y/n and Kili, hinting at a budding relationship. The evening ends with Y/n surprising Kili with a cheeky kiss, leaving him dazed, and Thorin observing their connection.

Tw- None

The dwarves were not happy.

There was no meat at all on the plates that were put in front of them, just green things that tasted horrible. Thorin had refused to sit at the table and eat food given to him by the species he hated the most. As he looked out of the large hole he stood in front of, his mind was trying to process what had just happened.

Elrond has called Y/n ‘Your Majesty’. She is related to that pampered asshole that is King Thranduil.

Anger flooded through his veins, how come Y/n hadn’t told them.

The chatter behind him stopped. Thorin turned around because the dwarves being quiet during a meal is nothing normal.

As he turned, Y/n walked into the light of the hall. The dress was pooling at her feet, the sleeves were way too long for her. Her hair was pulled back and had been put into a plat, the tiara was weaved into her.

She looked gorgeous, but you could tell she was uncomfortable. As she moved to sit next to Kili, Erland grabbed her hand to make her sit next to him.

“Y/n, you have to sit here!” he exclaimed as Y/n stood up. That is when she exploded.

“Oh, do I, I thought I could sit where I want, and I want to sit with my friends. Not some posh elf boy with an ego that is the size of Smaug’s love for gold. Now stop telling me what to do!” Y/n commanded.

Ever since she had walked into this place, that she used to miss, the people were bowing and telling her where to go and what to do. Surely a princess should have her freedom. She spun on her heel and walked over to where all the dwarves were sat, with astonished looks on their faces. Thorin went to brood out of the window, with a smirk on his face.

At least the sass was passed down.

The chatter returned as she sat down and dug into the salad that was in front of her. After 5 minutes, she looked up at Kili and said,

“I am so sorry about my past. I thought you would treat me differnerly if you would know that i wasn’t a normal half elf.”

Kili smiled and put his large hand on her small, now less muddy, hand.

“I get it, we wouldn’t treat you any different from how we do now. I mean, I’m a prince, and Bofur threw a rock at me the other day.” Kili laughed as the look of shock crossed Y/n’s face.

Then a lettuce leaf smacked her in the back of the head.

“All right, which one of you was that!” she swirled around and picked up a parsnip. All of the dwarves pointed at Fili.

She swung her arm back and threw the vegetable at Fili. But it was way off target and hit Thorin in the back of the head; everyone went quiet.

“Oh Skirth!” she swore as Thorin slowly spun around. She was dead. Then another lettuce leaf hit him in the forehead. Kili and Fili jumped out of their seats and began to throw vegetables at whoever was in reach. Twice Kili got a tomato in the face; Y/n seemed to be the main target for three of the dwarves.

Kili ran towards her and threw her over his shoulder.

“Kili Durin! Put me down now!” She screamed, slamming her fists into his shoulder.

“Ow! No, stop wriggling, will you. Ow,” he argued back but eventually put her on the floor.

“Watch this,” Kili whispered into her pointed ears.

He picked up a potato and threw it in Erland’s direction. He moved out of the way just in time, and it hit the statue behind him. The two burst out laughing. The evening was very enjoyable.

Y/n was walking around Rivendale. She kept thinking of her mother; would the guards of Rivendale tell her father she was here? They had to go near Mirkwood, so would she run into her brother or her father?

As she walked past the fountain, shouts caught her attention. They seemed happy. As she turned the corner, her eyes caught a sight she wouldn’t forget for a while.

All of the dwarves were in the fountain, naked. She squeaked, and that caught the attention of them all. She spun around as Kili got out of the fountain.

“You alright, Lass?” He asked, walking behind her, not being able to see her face. She was glad about that, as she was bright red.

“Yes, Kili, I’m fine. Could you just get back in the water or put a towel on… please,” she muttered as he got closer.

“Come on, Kili,” Fili shouted in his direction. Kili laughed and walked back to the fountain.

Y/n turned around as she heard a massive splash. All of the dwarves had jumped in, causing a massive splash to get her soaked.

Her dress was ruined, which she didn’t care about, but it was starting to stick to her body. Making her curves stick out a bit.

“Guys!” she moaned.

She walked back to her room, dripping water all over the place. She was freezing.

“Y/n!” Her name was shouted as she turned to see Kili, this time in a green shirt with brown trousers on.

“Kili, I’m not mad at you.” His face lit up. “But please don’t do that again.”

“Well, it wasn’t my idea it was—“

“Let me guess, Fili.”

“Yes,” Kili said, looking at the floor.

“Actually, I was surprised that you landed in the fountain. Where did you aim when we needed to shoot the warg earlier?” The e/c-eyed girl looked at Kili with a smirk. She had pushed a couple of buttons.

“Hey, at least I don’t trip over my own feet.”

Leaning in, Y/n glared and stuck her tongue out at him. The two burst into a fit of giggles.

Kili gazed into her eyes as she looked at him.

“At least I can argue with a troll.”

“At least, I don’t get caught by a troll.”

“I was saving Bilbo!” Y/n cried, putting her hands on her hips.

“I saved you twice!” Kili gave her a sideways glance.

“Once, and you told them to drop me; if they did, I would have landed on my head.”

“And we wouldn’t want your pretty ears to get squished, would we?”

Y/n punched Kili in the shoulder.

“Ow! Stop being so rough,” Kili cried out as he held onto his arm.

“I thought you liked it rough,” Y/n cheekily said, raising an eyebrow.

Kili’s face went into a dark shade of red. His head suddenly was filled with situations that made his legs twang a bit.

He came to a halt at her side. Kili wanted to say something. Anything, he wanted to make her feel like this. As she reached her door, she looked at Kili and spoke.

“Thanks for walking me back.” She turned to open the door to her room.

“You’re welcome; oh, and Thorin wants us to leave at midnight. We need to get to Dale before Durin’s Day,” Kili told her, gazing at her.

“Oh, thank you, Kili,” Y/n replied, her thigh holster was beginning to rub; she mentally swore.

“Goodnight, Princess,” Kili said as he walked back to the place where the dwarves slept.

Y/n stopped, her heart beating at 100 miles per hour. An idea popped into her head. She spun around and kissed Kili on his cheek. When she lowered herself to the ground, she smirked at him.

“Goodnight, Prince.”

Y/n disappeared into her room, leaving Kili in the corridor on his own.

Kili had never been so still. He was really tempted to open that door and kiss her back. Walking over to the door, he put his hand on the doorknob.

“Kili.”

His face shot up, and he saw Thorin. How much had he seen? The whole thing. He smiled at the young dwarf and put his arm around his shoulder and walked the dazed boy back to the room he was staying in.

[pearlescentpearl]

I actually have some musings on this? Finwë may mean hair, yes, but the Noldor treat the name as if it’s synonymous with the word King; like when Fingolfin gives himself an extra Finwë in his name as a signifier of legitimacy to rulership, and then Finrod does the same for his father.

Literally, Finwë may mean hair, but metaphorically it’s treated like crowned.

So Curufinwë, Ñolofinwë, Arafinwë, think of them less like Epithet + Finwë, and more like Skilled King, Wise King, Noble King. They are sons of the king and their names reflect that they could be kings themselves one day. You even see more of this hierarchy thinking played out in their sons names. Fëanáro names his sons King, Ñolofinwë names his sons Commander (the same drop in rank his mother gave him! juicy thought to consider!), and Arafinwë names his sons Champion.

(Another note; both Ñolofinwë and Arafinwë honor their firstborn sons with a Finwë; the Finde element.)

There’s a whole other thread in the implication that Finwë is synonymous with the idea of kingship other the literal word Aran. You have to wonder if Finwë is the very first king the Tatyar turned Noldor ever had if he’s getting treated like the archetype for it when, presumably, there were other leaders at Cuiviénen. At least, the very first King in the manner it is set up in Tirion. IIRC, the Leaders of the Journey didn’t become kings until after they ferried what they could of their people over so... goodness! The kingship system of the Amanyar is entirely new! No wonder the Noldor might perceive legitimacy of rulership as coming from a connection to Finwë.

But yes, Pityafinwë being Mini Me is adorable and hilarious. (Then juxtapose that with his twin being named Last King, how ominous and presumptuous.)

And, actually, on the matter of Thingol’s descendants, you can draw some further parallels that they’ve set up an Aman philosophy driven idea of Kingship, as influenced by Melian. Including the idea that, whatever leaders they had before Elu Thingol, legitimacy to rule now comes from Elu Thingol. See all the eldest male heirs of his line called some variation of Heir of Elu, broken only by Elros and Elrond whose names don’t linguistically indicate the eldest.

In fact, examining the naming conventions of other Moriquendi royalty, you don’t see this kind of naming convention played out at all. Elu Thingol’s brother, Elmo, doesn’t name his only son after himself at all -- save only in the fact the Galad element in Galadhon links him to the star theme of the family names. 

And popping over to the Nandor neighbors, Denethor’s father’s name is Lenwë/Denweg. I couldn’t find any solid translation for Lenwe -- the Parf Edhellen suggests it could mean Departure? But it seems Denethor might mean ‘Lithe and Lank’. Not at all thematic to his father’s, nor in keeping with an idea that Denethor’s legitimacy is derivative of his father’s. (Keeping in mind, there is so little published about the Nandor all of this is merely speculation.)

The Oropher - Thranduil - Legolas lineage also doesn’t follow this naming convention.

In fact, the closest recreation we get to this naming convention among non-Beleriand elves is the Lórien kings with Amdír and his son Amroth - both sharing the element Am, meaning up/high. But it’s the prefix they share, not the word the prefix describes, so I suppose this might be more in line with the convention of the Numenorian Kings taking on the prefix Tar- in their royal names.

Anyway, there’s a very interesting pattern here where the closer you are to Ainu/Aman, the more elves seem to buy into the idea that legitimacy of rule is based on connection to an extremely specific dude.

Your thoughts?

Question: Was it weird for Finwë to name all his sons Prefixfinwë?

[edensrose]

hello!!:) i hope ur well today<3

i was wondering if i could get maybe some (SFW) headcanons for a yandere sauron and thranduil (separate) with a very feminine reader who’s royalty in another city/kingdom? like the reader wears a lot of dresses and floral stuff and often has flowers in their hair etc

thank u so much in advance i’m in love with ur pieces 💗💗

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ thranduil, mairon ( separately ) ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. you just so happen to catch the eye of two men, who both are unsure of how to handle this new influx of infatuation ( yandere themes ៸៸ possessive and obsessive behaviour ៸៸ arranged marriage ៸៸ dark themes in general viewer discretion is advised )

· ⊰ note. I'm doing good thanks! I may have gotten a little carried away with this but it's fine haha, hope you enjoy!

( masterlist ) ( taglist form )

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ THRANDUIL 

ʚ You had caught his eye during a celebration of both kingdoms. You were a princess and from the moment he first laid eyes on you he was completely mesmerised. It had probably been the first time he looked upon a woman and thought she was blessed with the appearance of starlight - since his late wife, at least 

ʚ At first he would have ignored it, deeming it as a simple infatuation and trying to continue the rest of the night as he had before. However, he kept finding his eyes lingering to you no matter how hard he tried to distract himself with something else 

ʚ It is only after many failed attempts that he would eventually question your identity, simply questioning one of your people. Your name remained in his mind like a broken record even days after the event, he couldn’t help but say it whilst he was alone to see how it would feel upon his tongue 

ʚ Knowing now that you were a princess, it wasn’t very difficult to find more information about you. That’s exactly what he distracted himself with for the coming weeks, gathering every little speck of info on you that he possibly could. Every time he tried to stop, tell himself this was irrational, indecent, he found himself suppressing his conscience and continuing on

ʚ Every opportunity that he had to meet with your kingdom, he took it. Which was surprising to your father considering that it was common knowledge that Thranduil preferred to remain in his own realm and not concern himself with other kingdoms. Now, he had a reason - you. With everytime he saw you the elvenking felt as though he was falling deeper into this pit that he actively dug for himself 

ʚ All he thought of was you, your beauty, that smile which drove him up the wall, the bright look you would give him. And he wanted it all for himself

ʚ So one can imagine his frustration when he learnt of all the suitors that were presented to you. Even if you did turn them down - the fact that they dared even attempt to steal you away drove him to a place that he never thought was possible. And soon, you began to notice a disturbing trend - the disappearances of these suitors 

ʚ Thranduil had gone so far off the edge and he had only exchanged a few words with you, only met you a handful of time. He wanted more - needed it. Which is exactly what influenced his next actions. Despite only meeting you a few times, the next time you saw him - he proposed to you. You were flattered but of course, turned this down. After all, you barely knew him outside of political means. 

ʚ It angered him, greatly. And the next thing you knew, your father was excitedly telling you of your new engagement to the elvenking of the Woodland Realm and this time - you had no choice

ʚ You were wedded to him and thus, brought to Mirkwood as his wife and queen. You were thrown-off, even after you blatantly refused his proposal he had gone behind your back and spoke with your father? Of course your old man would agree! A princess from a lower kingdom being married off to one of the elven kingdoms. . . who would refuse such an offer? It opens up a number of opportunities

ʚ Yet, as time passed you quickly realised that Thranduil’s infatuation was something far darker than you could have ever imagined. He was obsessed with you, to a degree that brought you more than just fear. If you denied him the love that he, somehow, had for you in outrageous amounts - you would suffer consequences. You were never permitted to leave his chambers, you were made to rely solely on him 

ʚ You were expected to be his perfect little wife and, quite frankly, he wouldn’t take lightly to you refusing to conform to his demands. You were made to be the perfect replacement for who he had lost - in his own, sick way

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ MAIRON 

ʚ You had first caught his eye during his early days of being in Eregion, after befriending Celebrimbor during the forging of the rings where he posed as Annatar. He was surprised to learn that you were, in fact, Celebrimbor’s daughter - but immediately turned back to his work and tried to rid himself of the small interest that he had taken the first few times that saw you 

ʚ However, soon he began to notice that his little interest was not one-sighted. Yes, Mairon knew good and well that his appearance as Annatar was fair, so he wasn’t too surprised the few times he caught you, a young princess, staring at him. Did that mean he wasn’t prideful in this? Of course not, it was feeding not only his ego but now, his interest 

ʚ He found himself taking his time, leading you on for a little and deducing whether or not you would be worth pursuing - and for a certain time he even scolded himself. After all, he was here on a very strict mission - not to be infatuated with his enemy’s daughter

ʚ But soon. . . he found these thoughts twisting. What more if he win you over, take you as a form of a prize while he succeeded in his plan? This sudden dark twist in thoughts is what led him to pursue you and so, a bit of a blossoming romance developed between the two of you 

ʚ Well, that is what it appeared as to you. You were young and head-over-heals for the charming elf who had mysteriously found his way to your kingdom. In a way, you were blinded: and all by the concept of first love 

ʚ Mairon was convinced he had you under his little finger and with every passing day he felt himself becoming more enthralled by you, in ways that he would have never imagined. Of course, he wouldn’t show this, he would hide this growing fascination - no. . . obsession. 

ʚ You would never see the number of dark looks sent at those who dared laid their eyes on you, nor be aware of the various people of your kingdom mysteriously gone missing after certain interactions with you. It appeared that you overlooked how possessive he tended to become when the two of you were in public, much less in your own home

ʚ All the signs were there, but you were blinded by your love for him. That was until everything went south and after his ‘temporary leave’ you learnt of his treachery from your father. You were terrified, disgusted even - you were in cahoots with the dark lord? You allowed him to be so intimate with you - Sauron himself!?

ʚ On a particular night you were surprised when you were met with Annatar in your room. Of course, you rebuked him. To think that he was foolish enough to believe that you’d still want him even after you found out of his true identity. It angered him, greatly. Did everything mean nothing to you? 

ʚ Unfortunately, the dark lord appeared to not have only developed an obsession for you - but had also. . . surprisingly, fallen in love with you. And there was no way in hell that he was letting you reject him. That day was the last time your father and family every saw you - for you were dragged back to Mordor 

ʚ Whether you wanted to or not you were forced to love him as you once did. After all, you couldn’t have him actually fall for you - become so infatuated and obsessed with you. . . and then leave him like it was nothing. Oh no, while you were under the impression that it was simply first love only on your side - you were wrong. For you were also the first women that Mairon had ever given his heart to 

ʚ And he would be damned if he let you go. Surely, you would be with him, there in Mordor. You would love him as you once did. . . even if it brought you to your death.

taglist ━ @kiatheinsomniac @augustwithquills @m-shade @nerdydcfan @flowerchildishere @camilomyshiningsun @bugnug @algae-rave @snakesofindia-sursesaji @theroguemaia @perwaineintsomi @yellowbadgermole

[lem0nshark-writes]

"The City of Ruins"

Thranduil x Male (elf) Reader

Word count: 2344 Summary: Lost lovers reunite 🌙☄

Warnings: angst at first then fluff w/ smut later on, the begining of smut is marked tho so don't worry, reader's a bottom

🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄

After the battle for Erebor you stayed behind in the city of Dale, it wasn't on your own accord, no. If it were up to you you would have returned to Mirkwood with your king, but you were banished from your home.

Such events came to be because you defied your king's orders to fall back and leave the dwarves to deal with orcs on their own. But you weren't gonna let your friends die, you weren't gonna let them fight on their own, even if it meant going against your king's will.

So you stayed behind, betrayed look on your king's face coming to haunt you more often than you'd like to admit. But you knew you did the right thing.

Many moons passed since the battle and you managed to fix yourself a home, it wasn't much, just a lower floor with a fireplace and a spot to lay on, but it's all you could muster up from the city in ruins.

You took it upon yourself to slowly clean and build around yourself, salvaging what you can of the city. And short trips to Laketown took care of your need for food and liquids.

It was a decent life, but terribly horribly lonely.

Your only friend being your thoughts and a bittersweet longing for your rín meleth*.

(*crowned love)

You feelings didn't come as surprise to you, they've been lingering for a while now but you've never acted on them, fearing he wouldn't feel the same and you'd cross a line. And besides, you were just a regular elf, no royalty, why would you ever be a match for him.

Dark stormy clouds gathered around the mountain and the city of Dale, heavy rain moments from being released.

You rushed to your small home in the heart of the city, arms full of twigs and branches, racing the time against the rain. And you made it in in the last second because just as you closed the door the sky came crashing down in big droplets.

You let out a sigh of relief and made your way to the fireplace, placing the newbrought wood at the side of it and started the night's fire. After making sure it's well lit and strong, you moved the remaining wood on the side for later.

You got up and took off unnecessary layers of clothes and your boots as the room started to fill up with warmth, setting them on their spot near the door.

Fixing your hair up in a messy bun you sat down on your bed and just as your were about to lay down for your daily rest, an unexpected knock on the door broke the comfortable silence mixed in with the crackling of the fire.

You looked up at the door and slowly got up, wondering who could it be as no guests announced themselves for the following days.

Creaking the door open your eyes widened in surprise. There in front of you, soaked in rain head to toe, stood none other than your ex king.

Your shock was soon pushed away by reminiscence of betrayal and old memories that came flooding your thoughts.

"How could you do that to me?.." pained expression pushed it's way through on kings face, trying to overcome the angry one that he tried so hard to keep.

"I already told you, but I guess you've gone deaf on your ears, I wouldn't and I won't let my friends die because you were too much of a coward to fight!" you started slow and calm but by the end of the sentence got louder and angrier, fire of the old argument rekindling fast.

"I am no coward! I did that to save the lives of our people! To save your life!" he growled back.

Anger gushed through your body but you said nothing, staring at his icy blue eyes.

"You might be-You maybe were my king, but my friends' lives are more important than your orders," you turned away, walking deeper into the house.

Thranduil followed, doors closing after him, and looked around a bit, feeling bad seeing how you lived since he threw you out of your home.

"You're so stubborn.." he sighed heavily, "What if something happened to you? What would I do then? What would I do without you??"

You turned around slightly and looked over at him. Worry of past events and what-ifs ridden across his face mixing with anger towards your stubbornness.

"You did just fine.." you muttered almost inaudibly, looking back away to hide your tears, old feelings starting to become too much.

He looked at you in shock for a few moments before regaining his ability to speak, "What… You think I enjoyed banishing you?? You think I enjoyed returning home without you and spending months an months with you nowhere in sight?? You think I like that?? .. When people ask me where you are?? .. Not seeing your face ever day??…"

"You think my soul isn't tearing into pieces without my meleth.." he looked at you, sadness twisting his face into a pained expression.

Your eyes widened at the last part and you turned around swiftly, standing there with your mouth agape for a few moments before speaking, " . . . Your meleth?.."

Thranduil's eyes widened a bit as well after he realized what he had said but then closed slowly as his expression melted into one of saddened agreement.

"You loved me?.." you asked softly.

He nodded, ". . . I still do.."

"Why didn't you say anything?.." you took a few steps towards the taller male, closing the gap between you two almost completely, and searched his eyes with your own.

"I feared you wouldn't feel the same.. and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you if that were true.." he finally gazed back at you.

"Silly king," you muttered through a slight smile forming on your face, " I loved you for hundreds of years, and I still do," you took his hands in yours and held them to your chest.

At your words his face lit up like forest in spring waking up from a long winter dream and he leaned I swiftly, locking his lips with yours, something he's been yearning to do for so long.

Without thinking you returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace and he did the same, his strong arms washing away all the worries and making you feel like the whole world around you disappeared.

"Return home with me my meleth, rule as a king by my side, let's never part again," he whispered into your neck.

Your lips spread into a warm smile as you gazed upon his eyes, "I'd like that very much."

((smut continuation from here on))

The two of you settled down on a crapet by the fireplace, setting your journey back to Mirkwood for tomorrow, when the storm hopefully calms down.

You forced the king to take off the outer layer of his clothes to put to dry by the fire and he undid his wet hair too, allowing it to dry easier on the warm air.

The two of you rested in each other's arms for a while, letting the fire warm you both up as you chatted exchanging some old stories and talks of your lingering feelings.

He smiled down at you, arms wrapped around your body as you rested your back against his chest. You looked up at him, returning the smile, "What?"

"Nothing. I just am wondering why we didn't confess sooner," he placed a warm kiss onto your jaw.

"Me too," your eyes instantly closed as he did that, "I guess we are two completely oblivious idiots," you added with a chuckle.

He let out a chuckle as well, "That we are." He grinned and kissed you deepy, passion spilling out from his lips.

You smiled into the kiss and returned just as passionately, cupping his cheeks in the process.

The bigger elf moved slightly, allowing your bodies to face each other, before wrapping his arms around you again.

The two of your kept on kissing, the kiss turning from slow and passionate to yearning and with a lot more tongue.

His hands started roaming your body and soon enough your vest was off, and shortly after your shirt too.

At the motion you parted your kiss and the two of you exchanged a knowing look. And just as quickly his lips were back on yours and your hands now undoing his top.

Once you won the battle with his shirt he moved his lips to your neck, tracing kisses and licks before the same turned into bites and sucks, leaving hickeys behind that ended up littering your neck and your chest.

You moaned on his actions, running your fingers through his hair and giving it a gentle thug on each bite he left on your soft skin.

He moved his attention to your lower stomach, leaving warm kisses there as he slipt your pants off with a single swift move.

You looked up at him, the two of you locking eyes, as you bit your lower lip. His gaze trailed around your body, taking in every bit of it, "Y/n.. you're beautiful.." he said, lust-laced desire dripping off his words.

The tone he spoke in made you shiver under his touch. He gave you a deep kiss and then proceeded to take his pants off too and soon enough both of yours undergarments followed.

He laid you down and got on top of you, kissing you deeply once again.

Your eyes stayed locked with his abs and, well, lower parts, being slightly taken aback by how good he looks.

He quickly caught up on your thoughts and smirked, making you in return blush like mad.

"Like what you see?" Thranduil smirked at his smaller lover who by the looks of it was about to burst into flames from the redness his cheeks reached caused by his words and that smug smirk Thranduil proudly wore.

He chuckled at his lover's sudden shyness and let his hand trail to his already errect memeber.

You gasped softly at the feel of his fingers on you and your eyes closed from pleasure, hand rushing to your mouth to silent the escaping moans.

Thranduil's hand reached for yours and moved it from your mouth, pinning it above your head, "I like your moans, don't hide them," he smirked and left kisses across your yaw and neck once again, as his hand worked magic bringing you all the way to the edge before abruptly stopping.

You looked up at him in wonder, unpleased and yearning for the pleasure to come back. He smirked softly at you and pulled you by your thighs closer to himself and his face went down.

You looked up at what he was up to and gasped in pleasure when you felt his slick tongue move against your hole. You fell back and your eyes rolled in sweetness as his tongue made it's way into you. It twisted and turned inside you, sending waves of pleasure all throughout your body, his hands squeezing your butt cheeks as they held onto them.

Once again you were on the edge of an orgasm and once again he pulled away just as you were about to reach it.

You whined slightly this time, pouting at his repeated action.

"Shhhhhh you'll like what comes next better-," he smirked at you and sat himself up again, grabbing at the sides of your thighs as he positioned himself at your now wet entrance.

You propped yourself up just enough to reach his lips and kiss him deeply, which he gladly returned, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek.

"Ready?" he smiled at you warmly as you two held your faces close to one another. You gave him a soft nod, bracing yourself for what's about to come.

He slowly started pushing in, giving you enough time in-between each little push to adjust to him in you, moans rolling off your tongue along with rugged breaths.

Once he was all the way inside you he kissed you deeply, distracting you from any lingering pain till it all melted away into burning pleasure.

Holding at your sides he slowly started moving his hips pushing his big length in and out of you, at first slowly before picking up the pace. Moans streamed out of both of your mouths mixed up with muffled breathing between kisses.

"Ahhhh hhhhhngggg…" moans left your mouth one after the other as he picked up the pace even more, hand back on your ass and squeezing it.

Your finger nails raked his back in pleasure causing him to moan your name out between paced breaths, "Y/n… ahhh-."

You moved your lips to his neck, leaving the tall elf an even bigger moaning mess as you left hickey upon hickey against his skin.

He slapped your ass in the moment as he pushed in even deeper, reaching that sweet sweet spot, making you moan his name out even louder than before. He picked up on that and started hitting that spot repeatedly with even greater strength making you melt completely underneath him.

He could tell you were very close and so was he, and with a few more strong thrusts both of you came hard, moaning each other's names and spilling, you on his and yours stomach and him inside of you.

Panting he brought himslef down and placed a loving kiss on your lips, exhausted with pleasure and still riding your orgasm you returned.

He gently pulled out and plopped down next to you, pulling you close into his warm embrace.

You two stayed like that for a while, hugging and unable to reach your breaths.

Once your breath returned to your lungs you snuggled up into his chest and kissed his yaw, "I love you my king."

He smiled down at you and hugged you tighter, placing a long kiss onto your lips, "I love you too meleth."

[red-riding]

Tolkien Elves Clothing Headcannons

Please read: These are only my headcanons, meaning my ideas and interpretations of what Tolkien's elves would have worn based on the text, my clothing knowledge, and imagination. I am in no way claiming this is how it should be. Also I own none of the photos used in this post. 

Also this is obnoxiously long and wordy, so if you skip to a section that interests you, I won't judge. I may have went ( A lot ) over bored ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Also I just want to say thank you so much for all the support I got on the post asking if I should do this, I hope it lives up to everyones expectations. 

Sources

Okay so in going on this journey of research, I ran into an issue. What culture or cultures to base the clothes off of. My first thought was to have each elven group take ideas from different human cultures. Which makes sense to an extent.

I feel elves would all dress more similar than different across Tolkien’s universe. My reason for this is all the elves started out in the same place (the awakening) and were all exposed to the same things. I believe their clothing would be strongly influenced by the Valar due to Orome’s influence in the beginning and since elves are immortal this influence would not die out as generations go on (I talk about this in the trends section of this post).

If you look in human societies throughout history, they are often unified culturally, despite being far apart, by a religion and I'm applying this to elves. They would emulate the Valar’s clothing in my mind.

Okay now that I narrowed down that I want to use one culture mostly, what culture to pick? There honestly is no right answer to this I feel, but i'm going with European influence (Which is super general I know) since that is where the concept of elves originates from and Tolkien was English. Elves started making their way into stories and poetry in around the 1500s, so that gives me a general area and date to start forming my headcanon. I'm also going to take quite a lot of liberties and take influence from the Lord of the rings films, and general fantasy aesthetics as well to form these headcanons.

Fabrics

When talking about clothes the first place to start is what they are made of: the fabric. What kind of fabric would the elves use and have available to them. When coming up with this I considered two main things, One how durable the fabric is and two could elves make it.

I think durability would be extremely important to elves. According to the International textile association, the average regularly worn garment will last two to three years. Imagine how short of a time period that is to elves! This is why I believe durability would be extremely important to elves, they want something to last. especially the less wealthy elves because they can not afford constant new clothing.

I am only going to list clothing I think the elves could realistically make, so no polyester, plastic and chemical based fabrics.

Considering these two things I have come up with this list using this website as reference. 

Canvas

Cashmere 

Chenille 

Chiffon 

Cotton

Georgette (Silk variety) 

jersey (Silk and cotton variety) 

Leather and Animal Skins/furs 

Wool (And all its woven variants) 

Muslin 

Lace

Satin 

Silk (And all its differently woven Variants)

Taffeta 

Velvet 

Silhouette 

Note: We are looking at shape/Silhouette in this section, don't mind the colors or fabrics in my reference photos. 

So if you study fashion history and culture at all you know the silhouette is one of the defining things of a culture and era. This brings on the question of what the Silhouette for elves would be. I think elves would share one general silhouette with similarities between the male and female silhouettes but have differences as well. This also applies to elves of different lands. They may have the same general silhouette with slightly different things.  

For Elleths

For the common elleth silhouette I am going to say one thing SLEEVES. This is taking inspiration from both the LOTR movie and 1500s european paintings and fashion. long graceful sleeves is something I think would be an elven stable on formal/evening gowns. I feel there would be different styles of sleeves however the most common would be something like this. However I will say for casual work wear they would yield unhelpful. 

Another thing I feel most elleth dresses would have is a waist seam. This is one thing I strongly dislike about the LOTR movie dress, a majority of the dresses at their base looks like a modern slip dress or a night gown and im not a fan. I understand this was probably a stylistic choice to represent how refined and ellagent the elves were, but to me it just looks like an ill fitted fast fashion nightgown. Here is a link to a good example photo if you want to look. Almost no dresses until the last hundred years lacked a waist seam like this. Some cultures don't have a waist seam in woman clothing but will almost always have a belt like garnet if there is no seam. And I personally think waist seemed gowns, look far more elegant. Plus 1500s european gowns all had waist seams so we are adding a waist seam. 

Now the skirt, I feel it would be simple and more on the flat flowing side. No hoop skirts or bum roles for the elves. I do think in some gowns they may add some under lawyers to add volume and or warmth. 

For Ellons 

I actually really like the LOTR movies interruption of elven male robes for formal situations, Here is an example. I also think similar styles but shorter would be worn by either younger ellons or ellons wanting to branch out in a different style for a formal occasion. Here is an example. 

For General Elves 

I feel something both genders would share in their formal and non formal clothes is the use of capes in very versatile ways. The cape could have a function like keeping one warm, or just be purely for show and drastic flare as one descends from their throne *cough* Thranduil, Feanor *Cough*. Here are some examples: Example 1, Example 2, Example 3. 

Now onto the talk of practical clothing. No matter how graceful elves are they can not wear gowns and robes when training or horse back riding. I imagine simple slacks and tunics would be a common site among elves who do physical activities. What Legolas wears in the lord of the rings, is perfect I feel. Practical and rather similar to what humans wear. Here is the example. 

Colors

I feel the elves would have clothing of all colors overall. depending on a couple things. Elves' clothing colors would be different depending on the environment and what dyes they have available in it. As well as what colors function best in an environment, so a lot of greens.

I don't think elven royals would enforce any laws that limits what colors an elf can wear depending on class like most royals throughout human history have. I do feel that certain elven houses, or elves would take on certain color themes. For example I believe Feanor and his house would wear a whole lot of reds, and blacks. While Finarfin and his house would be wearing more blues, whites and silver.

I think plant based dyes would be the most common among elves, making their clothing fall more on earthy toned down colors, opposed to bright synthetic ones we are used to (See mood board above). I do think some brighter colors could be achieved by dying a garment multiple times or using a rarer material like minerals. However I feel majorly would be as I said earthy and natural.

Embellishments 

I believe elves would dabble in all forms of embellishments on their clothing, I mean they have so much time on their hands so why not? I think embroidery would probably be the most common, Little swirled designs on hems and such. Bead work probably would be reserved for more formal garments, due to it being done with crystals and gems and taking lots of time.

I think what designs elves created would mostly be inspired by nature. Different flowers, birds, and stars being the most common.

I think some elven royals would have robes glistened with sewed on diamonds and jewels, to draw attention to themselves and show status.

Environments 

(Note: The way I arranged this mood board above is by environment. So Beach/tropical first row, Temperate forest middle, and snowy cold place third row.)

I feel the main thing that will be changing between different environments and temperatures is what materials they use. Fur and wool lined cloaks and robes for cold places. Light breathable fabric, decorated with sea shells for tropical beach environments. And cotton and medium warmth clothing for forests. I also feel for hunting clothing elves in forests would wear green, and in snowy areas would wear white furs.

I believe elves would still maintain the same general silhouette in different areas (Go to the Silhouette section for more details) just adding on layers and warmer fabrics in colder places.

Trends

So this section does not get a mood bored because I could not think of what that would be.

Trends are something extremely prevalent throughout human culture, often decided by those in power: Celebrities nowadays and in the past royalty. I don't think elves would have trends like we do, for two main reasons.

Reason one is as I said, trends in the past were decided by royals and oftentimes when a new royal took throne fashions would change in their image. However elven rulers don't die of old age like humans, they live forever. making the constant change of trends not occur with each new ruler because there is not a new ruler often. When there is a new ruler it is most likely extremely tragic because that means the past ruler died, and the next  (Most likely a child of the old ruler ) would probably not want to cause a drastic change in clothing out of respect.

Reason two being age groups. Trends often times change as new age groups move into the prime of their life and old generations die out. However elves are immortal and don't die out. I have no doubt younger elves would dress somewhat differently but there would be no massive clothing changes, In silhouette or fabrics due to the older elves pushing back against it. As well as the elves wanting to continue emulating the Valar.

Everyone who asked to be tagged and I want to show this too: @psychostatic, @deep-space-elf, @bitter-sweet-farmgirl, @tiefliing, @animallover81, @softnessfrommyheart, @xmarchwarden-of-lothlorienx, @hardinginhightowns, @xirinofarvada, @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth, @brannonlasgalen, @most-random-blog-with-stuff, @aduialel, @a-dragon-under-the-stars, @proffyaffle, @estel-means-hope, @eldritch-gilthoniel, @tsuyu-sama, @lady-of-black-roses, @perhaps-iwilltry, @lady-latte, @allinwonderlands , @saviorsong, @entishramblings, @rowandor, @halfwaytheremama, @tran-khuetu​, @tolkien-fantasy​

[elvish-sky]

Beloved: My Everything

A.N: I’m back with part 2 of Beloved!! I’ll be coming back for real tomorrow, but I was so excited that I could not wait to post this! You can probably tell I had way too much fun with this, and I really did. And I got to write Arien again! I hope you guys love it as much as I do!!

Word Count: 3,712

Summary: Erebor is preparing for the seven-year anniversary celebration of the BotFA. As the Queen, you are fully involved, but you and Thorin also have to manage the excitement of your adopted seven-year-old, Arien. 

Pairings: Thorin x Reader, Bard x Thranduil, Fíli x Sigrid

Warnings: Fluff. Kissing. 

Beloved Part 1 Director’s Commentary

****

Beloved: My Everything

“Adad! Mama! Look!”

           Arien was sprinting down the hallway towards the council room, newly lost tooth in hand as she called out for her father. Bursting through the double doors, the seven-year-old ran the length of the room before jumping into Thorin’s lap, proudly grinning to show him the new gap in her teeth.

Sitting next to your husband, you stifled a giggle as Thorin examined the tooth, looking like he was examining a precious piece of metal because of how focused he was. Meanwhile, the rest of the council was in various states of annoyance or fond disapproval of the meeting, Balin shaking his head with a smile at the picture the royal family was painting.

It was true you were an odd group. After adopting Arien on the quest for Erebor and reclaiming the mountain, your future had seemed uncertain while Thorin’s life hung in the balance. But he had recovered, and the two of you had been married in a stunning ceremony, with a toddler Arien placing the queen’s crown on your head. The dwarves had been worried at first about having a human queen and princess, but your calming effect on Thorin and Arien’s general cuteness had quickly won them over. Of course, the fact that your first council meeting ever had started with you walking in and throwing knives in rapid succession so that they speared the table between each of the council members (except Balin’s) hands may have given them a healthy fear of you as well. 

Now, six years later, the kingdom was thriving. Trade with Dale was stronger than ever, and the uneasy alliance with the elves had grown into something more tolerant. In fact, Kings Thranduil and Bard would be visiting in five days for the anniversary of the Battle of the Five Armies, as it had come to be known.

The year after the battle was a hard one. Thorin and his nephews were grievously injured, and while they healed it had been up to you and Balin to run the kingdom. On the first anniversary of the Battle, the mood in Erebor was noticeably somber. Although the king and princes had healed, it didn’t seem as if the kingdom would ever fully recover. You had noticed this, and remembering that an elven envoy, with the king, was in Dale, had mustered up a feast and invited the men and elves to what would become a yearly tradition. 

Now, you were in the throes of planning the event with the council. 

“That tooth is lovely, darling. Now go play so that Mama and I can finish work, ok?” Thorin pressed the tooth back into Arien’s hand. “And take good care of this!” 

Arien left the room with a beaming smile, waving at all of the councilors.

Days later, Arien burst into the room you shared with Thorin. 

“Mama! Adad! Wake up! The elves are coming today!”

Thorin groaned. “Arien. How many times do I have to tell you that you should not be this excited about elves? You should be happier to see orcs than you should be to see elves.”

She grinned, ignoring him and throwing open the curtains, the sunlight streaming through the windows setting her dark skin aglow. 

“Arien, no.” You gestured for her to close them, shielding your face from the early morning sun. 

“But Mama they’re coming today! Imma see Sigrid and Bain and Tilda, and Uncle Bard and Uncle Thranduil and Leggy!” She pranced about the room, gesturing as she talked about everyone.

You smirked at Thorin, who had one arm thrown over his face, hair splayed on the pillow. His bare chest was glowing in the sunlight, but you were focused on the expression of annoyance you could barely see under his arm. Thorin was extremely disapproving of the fact that your daughter called Thranduil ‘Uncle,’ and adored Legolas so much. Personally, you thought it was great, helping to bridge the divide between the kingdoms. You also were friends with the Elven-King, him having sheltered you during the whole Arkenstone fiasco, and Legolas was one of your good friends as well. 

“I suppose we should get up.” You shooed Arien out of the room, into her adjoining set in the royal wing, before turning back to your husband. You leaned down to kiss him. 

“C’mon, Thorin. We really should get up.” You pressed a trail of kisses down his jaw, hoping to coax him up.

He groaned, sitting up. “Fine. I suppose I should look my best to upstage the elves.”

You sighed. “If that’s what gets you up then so be it.”

Thorin smirked at you, standing up and grabbing a leather tie from his wardrobe, and binding his hair back so that it cascaded down his back. You walked over to him, hugging him from behind. 

“You know that Arien and I will always love you more than the elves, right?” 

He nodded, turning to kiss you. “I love you too.” 

Later that day, you strode down the hall, Dori by your side.

“We have everything set up in the hall?”

He nodded.

“All the food is ready?”

He nodded again.

“And the drinks? We have the Mirkwood wines that they shipped ahead?”

“Yes, Y/N. Everything is going to be fine, we’ve been planning for months. Now, the elves are about to arrive. You need to meet your husband and daughter at the gates.”

“Ok, then. See you later?”

“Go, Y/N!” Dori shooed you in the direction of the gates, and, laughing, you turned and walked away.

You stood at the entrance to Erebor, holding hands with a bouncing Arien, Thorin on her other side. You shared a smile with him, leaning over your daughter to kiss him quickly before turning to face the approaching elves. Thranduil dismounted from his elk, Legolas doing the same from his horse, and they walked towards you.

“Your majesties, your highness,” the Elven-King greeted you all with a nod of his head. 

You and Thorin returned the greeting in kind, clasping the elves’ forearms. Arien stood there, now quivering with excitement, and when you nodded to her that it was okay to say hello she burst forward with a cry of, “Uncle Thranduil!!” throwing herself into his arms.

“Hello, little one,” Thranduil greeted her with a smile, hugging her back only slightly awkwardly. 

You had to admit that your daughter had a good effect on the elf, he was much less prickly than he used to be. You fondly recalled the time when, visiting Mirkwood with Arien and Thorin, you had been unable to find your daughter for several hours. It was only upon going outside that you discovered the Princess of Erebor and the King of Mirkwood making flower-crowns together. Thorin’s jaw had dropped, while you had just smiled, watching Arien’s springy coils of hair bounce, her dark skin glowing as she ran around the elf, weaving flowers into his hair. 

Now, Thranduil was lifting Arien to pet his elk, smiling as the child giggled. He set her down after a moment, looking behind you at the three new dwarves who had just appeared. 

“Your highnesses.” He dipped his head again in greeting, this time to Fíli, Kíli, and Dis. They greeted him in kind before Kíli strode forward to Legolas. The elf bent his head to listen to the dwarf, before nodding and following the dwarf into the mountain, gesturing about what looked like bows and other archery-related things.

“And, that’s the last we’ll see of Legolas and Kíli until someone finds them to bring them to the party!” Thorin smiled as he spoke, and with that, the last of the remaining tension was broken. Thorin grabbed Arien’s hand, leading the delighted child back into the mountain. Thranduil offered you his arm and you gladly accepted, chatting with an old friend as the rest of the elven delegation followed you into Erebor.

“When will Bard be arriving?” 

Your eyebrows rose at the informal use of the king’s name, but you answered nonetheless. 

“We expect him just before dusk.”

Thranduil smiled softly at this, piquing your curiosity even more, but you let it slide and continued the conversation to other topics. 

Back in your rooms, having repeated the whole greeting process with Bard, you helped your husband and daughter get ready for the party. Thorin had donned his finest Durin blue robes, the silver embroidery twining around the cuffs and the hem and highlighting the silver strands of his hair. Arien was resplendent in bright gold, her circlet glowing against her dark skin. Her new dress had blue embroidery around the hem, with reflective panels sewn in to refract golden light all over the room. 

And you were radiant in a silver dress, full skirts swirling around your feet and Durin blues ribbons twined through your hair. Your crown sat on your brow lightly, you having opted for the delicate one to save yourself a headache. The three of you put together looked like the very picture of royalty, the elements of Durin blue in each outfit tying it all together as a familial piece. 

Later that night, you sat at the high table, gazing around the great room. Arien had been hauled off by Bain and Tilda, and you could see the two older ones playing with her, all three looking delighted. 

Sigrid and Fíli were at the center of the dance floor, her laughing at something he said as he twirled her around. You looked forward to cashing in the bet you had made with Thorin about them being a couple- you were rarely right and had lost spectacularly in the bet you had made about Kíli and Legolas (you had been so certain they were dating, but it was just their shared love of archery. And, as Thorin has pointed out, two people that obsessed with their hair would not have worked well in a relationship). Besides, your nephew looked very happy with the human girl.

Kíli and Legolas had deigned to join the party after their customary archery competition, and each was mingling with different crowds. Legolas looked to be regaling a group of humans with his exploits, while Kíli had joined his cousin, Bain, and Tilda in making mischief. 

Meanwhile, Thranduil and Bard were conversing in a corner, leaned close together over their glasses of wine, which made you even more suspicious. You resolved to find out what was going on with the two of them while they were staying with you for the next several days. 

Thorin tapped you on the shoulder, startling you from your observations. You looked up to see him standing next to your chair, hand outstretched. 

“Shall we dance, amralîme?”

“Yes, please. Let’s show them how it’s done.”

You grabbed his hand, walking over to the dance for and twirling on. You heard clapping as the King and Queen of Erebor were spotted on the dance floor, and smiled. There were few things you loved more than dancing with your husband, and so as the band began to play you started.

The dancing was lovely, you switched partners after the first to dance with Fíli, then with a suddenly appearing Kíli, then Legolas. Thranduil swooped in to take your hand after his son, and Bard danced with you after the elf. Your night was rounded out by Bain asking for a dance, which you happily obliged (you didn’t want to be disloyal to any of the others, but aside from the elves, who were inherently graceful, Bain was the best dancer of the lot). 

As you walked off the dance floor for what you hoped was the last time (your feet were starting to hurt), you noticed that the room was quickly emptying. It made sense, it was extremely late. You had left the celebration halfway through to put Arien to sleep, leaving an equally sleepy Kíli to watch over her. Sigrid had left with Bain and Tilda a little while ago, while Fíli sat on the dais with his uncle, softly speaking with him. Bard and Thranduil had disappeared at some point as well, although you could not say when, or if they had left together. 

Now, you walked up the dais to grab your husband. Saying a quick farewell to Fíli, you entwined your fingers with Thorin’s, making your way out of the hall. 

“I think we’ll be having another wedding soon,” your husband said. 

You grinned. “I did tell you so. Now pay up.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgment. “So you did. And I can’t fulfill the bet until it snows, you know that.”

You did. You had set the conditions of the bet to be that if Thorin won, you’d have to dress like him for two weeks. You wouldn’t have minded, except for the large clunky boots he always wore. You would have looked ridiculous If you won, Thorin had to have a snowball fight with whoever the highest-ranking visiting diplomat was.

Reaching your room, you leaned against the door. 

“I had a lovely night.” You leaned in to kiss your husband.

“I did too.” He kissed you back, before pushing open the door.

You gasped as you entered your room, looking through the windows. It was snowing. 

“I guess you’ll have to fulfill your end of the best tonight!” You smirked. “And you know, we have two equally high-ranking people in Erebor right now!”

Thorin buried his face in his hands. “You’re telling me I have to start a snowball fight with Thranduil and Bard.”

You grinned, quickly changing into a warm tunic and boots, throwing a cloak over it all as Thorin did the same.

As you headed out the door, you heard Thorin mutter, “actually, throwing a snowball at that pompous elf might not be the worst thing after all,” under his breath, causing you to giggle. 

You first went next door to Arien’s room, waking Kíli while careful not to rouse Arien. The prince was groggy at first, but brightened when you said the words “snowball fight.” 

“Should we wake Arien?” Kíli was putting on his own cloak as he spoke.

You looked at Thorin, considering. 

“She’ll be very upset if she finds out we played in the snow without her,” Thorin observed. 

You walked over to her bed, shaking her gently awake.

“Mama? Is it morning?” Arien blinked her eyes open, groggy.

“No, my darling. It’s snowing! Adad needs to have a snowball fight, so we’re going outside!”

She sprang out of bed. “Snow! I love snow!” 

You helped her put on her small tunic and pants, fastening her cloak tight before she tugged her boots on. Reaching out, she grabbed Thorin and Kíli’s hands. 

“C’mon Adad, c’mon Kee! We’re gonna have a snowball fight!”

You followed them to Fíli’s door, then Dis’, both of whom were enthusiastic about the plan. You sent Fíli, Arien, and Kíli to rouse Bard’s children and Legolas, the adults making your way to Bard’s room. 

Turning the corner, you, Thorin, and Dis stopped short. 

Bard and Thranduil were entwined, kissing, in the middle of the hallway, Bard’s fingers running through the elf’s hair. Hearing your gasp, they broke apart, flushed. You all just stood there, dumbstruck for a moment, before you were spurred into action.

Walking forward, you slung an arm around each of their shoulders. “Yes, yes, congratulations and all that. Now, it’s snowing, so we’re going outside. But we’re all very happy for the two of you.”

Thorin and Dis nodded along with your words, and the five of you walked down the hall towards the gates to meet the rest of the royals. 

At the main entrance, you walked over to the small door beside the massive gates, unlocking it and gesturing for everyone to follow you outside. 

As soon as they were out in the snow, Fíli and Sigrid sprinted away from the mountain, and you could see them beginning to build a fort. Kíli grabbed Bain and Arien to assist him in building another, and Legolas and Tilda were starting to stockpile snowballs together. You could sense that this was the beginning of a snow-war.

Turning around, you saw your husband, the King Under the Mountain, climbing the outside walls of Erebor with a pile of snow cradled in his cloak. Finding a secure perch, he gathered the snow into balls and started raining them down on Thranduil, who shrieked at the cold, startling Bard who stood next to him into quickly moving away. 

Thranduil, running over to his son’s stockpile of snowballs, was bombarded from all sides as he tried to steal from Legolas and Tilda. Succeeding, the elf started throwing them back at Thorin, nailing him directly in his face. Thorin dropped to the ground, Bard hitting him with another snow projectile shortly after. You laughed with Dis as you watched three of the most powerful people in Middle-Earth have a snowball fight. 

Suddenly, white splattered all over Dis, who turned to see her younger son standing sheepishly behind her. 

“Sorry, Amad. I was aiming for Uncle!” Kíli had his hands raised in defense.

“No, you were not! You’re an archer, Kíli, I know you hit what you aim at! And your Uncle is all the way over there!” Dis advanced on Kíli, a snowball in each hand, and her son promptly turned and ran, shrieking as she chased after him. 

You were standing there, quite content to watch it all unfold as Fíli and Sigrid led an attack on Legolas and Tilda, Arien and Bain sneaking up to attack them from the rear. Your peace was disturbed, however, by something ice-cold being shoved down your back. You spun around, screaming, to see a smirking Thorin standing behind you. You tackled him into the snow, wrestling until you had him pinned beneath you. He was flushed, both from the cold and exertion, panting, and so irresistible that you leaned down to kiss him. 

Thorin quickly deepened the kiss, and you responded, until a shout of, “Cool off, lovebirds!” rang out. Springing up in case someone was about to dump snow on you, you saw Tilda and Legolas dumping snow on the heads of Fíli and Sigrid, who quickly broke apart from their kiss with yells of “So cold!” and “Ouch!” Tilda, Bain, and Legolas, with Arien perched on his shoulders.  stood there with large grins on their faces as you and Thorin made your way to join them. 

“Where are your fathers?” you asked Legolas and Tilda. 

They shrugged, and you turned to your husband. 

Thorin smirked. “Shall we go find them?”

You nodded, along with Fíli, Sigrid, Legolas, Arien still on his shoulders, Bain, and Tilda, and all scooped up several snowballs each. Kíli and Dis appeared, Kíli looking suitably chastened, and each grabbed an armful of snow as well. 

“What are we doing?” Kíli whispered. 

“We’re gonna ambush Bard and Thranduil,” Thorin informed him, “Have you seen them?”

Dis nodded, “They’re just around the corner of the walls. But… maybe their children shouldn’t be around for this?”

Sigrid laughed. “It’s fine. They’ve been dating for months now, and neither of them is exactly subtle. Our father has made so many trips to Mirkwood recently that we got suspicious and enlisted Legolas for help.”

The elf nodded. “Tilda snuck to Mirkwood in one of the carts her father brought and told me everything. We officially found out when we walked in on them kissing in the throne room.”

Tilda rolled her eyes. “They really do need to work on stealth. But the important thing here is that they don’t know we know.” 

“So wait. You’ve known for months and didn’t tell us?!” Thorin was offended. 

Bain shrugged. “It wasn’t our news to tell.”

“And that’s exactly the right attitude,” you smiled at him. “Now, let us go ambush some kings!”

Sticking close to the side of the mountain, you all snuck in a line. Thorin and Legolas had climbed up to dump snow on the two kings from above, while the rest of you attacked from the ground. Before climbing, Legolas had transferred Arien to Fíli’s shoulders, where she was happily preparing ammo. 

You held out a hand for everyone behind you to stop, peering around the corner at Thranduil and Bard kissing as the snow fell around them. It looked quite romantic, to be honest, but a good snowball surprise was worth disrupting the moment. 

You motioned to Thorin and Legolas, perched above, to begin. 

“To quote Tilda, cool off, lovebirds!” 

Thorin dumped a pile of snow on their heads, and the rest of you sprung around the corner to bombard them with snowballs.  They quickly retaliated, and it dissolved into chaos once again, everyone having the time of their lives. 

Dis, Bain, and Tilda had taken Arien in a while ago, Dis staying with her niece, but the rest of you had enjoyed the snow for a while longer. You had all officially congratulated Bard and Thranduil on their relationship, and after the initial shock of finding out that their children had known for months, they were very pleased. 

Now, you were walking back to your rooms with your husband in the early hours of the morning. You still felt the blood in your cheeks, exhilarated from the adrenaline and happiness, and Thorin was still flushed from the cold beside you. You pushed open the doors to your bedroom, Thorin shutting them behind you. You walked to your wardrobe, changing out of the soaked tunic and pants into your nightclothes, Thorin doing the same. 

Once changed, you climbed into bed next to your husband, laying your head on his chest. You could hear his heart beating as his hand came up to your face, tilting up to his. Thorin slanted his lips over yours, and you responded for a sweet, long kiss, filled with love and all the emotions you could not put into words.

You decided to try anyway. “I love you so much, amralîme. You’re everything I could ever want. You and Arien.”

Thorin smiled. “I love you too, my everything.” 

You heard the words rumble in his chest, and smiled softly. You had your beloved husband and daughter. Seven years later, everything was perfect. 

Everything tag 💕: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel

Thorin tag: @lathalea

Beloved pt 2 tag: @beakami

[7soulstars]

On Everlasting Adventures with You

Pairing : Legolas x Time Traveller! / Immortal! Reader , Platonic! Thranduil x Reader

Warnings: Slight Angst , Slight war plot , Kind of OOC Thranduil ,Y/N being an oblivious idiot ,Fluff

Summary : Returning abruptly years later may or may not have been Y/N's best decision

.............

Legolas tsked as he fought against a Orc ,regretting not leaving with Gimli to the undying lands and staying back in Mirkwood . Especially considering the frequent spider and orc attacks. A series of loud bangs erupted startling the elves , followed by the orcs dropping dead, a hole burning through each of their heads. "Whoooo ! 1800 years and I've still got it ! Still a bit rough on the edges though-" Stretch. The owner of the voice froze, her hands in the air as if in surrender,looking at Legolas who had drawn his arrow aiming at her . She awkwardly chucked "Surprise?....... Wrong timing? ", she says, immediately regretting it.

Time Skip

"Oh come on! Guys let me at least explain ! Thranduil, Legolas, even you Tauriel ? ", the woman coaxed as she was being escorted into the dungeons by the soldiers, her hands tied behind her back. The three elves ignored her as she was pushed into the dungeons hearing Legolas hissing at the soldiers to 'be gentle' making a smile appear on the woman's face. Now leaving her alone inside forgetting about her hands still being tied to her back

Irritated. The prince tossed around on his mattress as his brain refused to shut down for that night, a quick thought coming into his head. He sat up straight fetching his bow and arrow as he proceeded to walk out of his chambers .The corridors of the palace being silent with nothing but the sounds of the crickets chirping. He sneaked down the stairs rushing into the celllar  “Your hands !-”,he stopped his eyes snapping towards the woman as she sat by the litte ledge inside the cellar looking out of the small window as the moon shone on her face. She looked at the prince bringing her untiedhands forward. “They forgot to do it for me so I did it myself .I may have dislocated my shoulder though.” She said as Legolas stood there with his jaw clenched. “Didn’t you feel guilt ?” , he whispered his voice almost left unheard to the woman. She averted her gaze avay from Legolas ,”What are you saying ?” .”YOU DISSAPPEARED Y/N ! YOU LEFT US ! YOU DESTROYED WHAT WAS LEFT BETWEEN US !”,the prince vented angrily making the woman flinch. “Please Legolas, try to understand ! I was only trying to save you, to save Mirkwood” .”Oh stop it ! Protect us from what !? Surprise Y/N ! We can protect ourselves.” Y/N pinched her forehead ,”You may be strong in middle earth but you can’t protect yourself from the future!” “Get to the point.” “I AM A TIME TRAVELLER LEGOLAS ! I CANNOT STAY AT ONE PLACE FOREVER “ . silence. “Are you humoring me ? Time travellers can’t possibly exist.”,Legolas said,slightly annoyed by this point. “I am not , we exist,we are what the future calls as royalty Legolas.Each kingdom has one who will rule them. I had stayed in Mirkwood longer than required it is against the customs of a time traveller . The night before I dissappeared I had gotten a warning from the council of the future ,to leave or give up the throne of my kingdom . If I didn’t choose either they promised to destroy what was precious to me.....Mirkwood. And if I chose to give up the throne and have had joined you in the fellowship you would have died protecting me, and I could never forgive myself for that. Not only for loosing you but for taking a son away from his father.You are way too precious to Thranduil, I saw how devasted he would have been. I chose to leave and promised to return in a year or two . But the council threatened my family that they’d take over our people if I leave for the next few years. I thought it was best to wait...Till the entire council dies and a new,good council is formed. I took long....and now all of you hate me....” , said Y/N giving a dry humourless chuckle.Legolas looked at her ,she had changed , she was no longer the girl laughed at everything,the girl everyone in Mirkwood including Thranduil adored . The girl before him was built to fight,couldn’t feel pain, her bright (e/c) eyes faded to nothingness ,pleading for help .And here the entirity of Mirkwood saw her as a betrayer.He couldn’t bear to look at her anymore. Y/N's eyes softened at the elven Prince's guilt tripped face as she moved towards the bars dividing the two . "It doesn't matter anymore. I just wanted to see all of you. " "BUT IT DOES MATTER! " ,Y/N's eyes widened due to his sudden outburst ."Lego-" "IT MATTERS BECAUSE I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU!".Silence. As if the air just got thicker. A thick lump formed in the woman's throat as her heart paliptated ridiculously. " How long?", Y/N croaked, her voice barely a whisper as it fell into the Prince's elvish ears."Since the day you saved that little elf from getting hit by an arrow", whispered back Legolas coming closer to the bars. Somehow it seemed as if Y/N’s eyes were returning with colour.

The two were quite alarmingly close,but it did not bother them. Not now,not ever.Legolas took Y/N’s hands by slipping his behind the bars . A soft sigh escaped for both their mouths before Legolas pressed his lips against her soft ones.It seemed like an eternity before the two seperated breathing heavily . They stared at each other in peaceful silence before Legolas took the initiative to speak up, “I’ll tell Ada, I’ll ask him to let you go ,we’ll tell him the truth..” Y/N looked at him blankly a small hint of confusion on her face. “But Thranduil knows what I am.” This time it was Legolas’ chance to make the confused face before coming into realization, “WHAT !?” ,he almost yelled making Y/N frantically shush him not to attract any attention from the guards. “I had told him when I had first come here to prove I’m not an intruder. Even when I left,I left him a letter on the reason of my sudden departure. I am pretty sure he is angry that I have been away for a longer time than I told him. He feels lied to.” Legolas looked at her exasperated.He was at a loss of words. “I am still asking Ada to release you”, he said before giving her one last kiss and leaving the dungeon.

--Time Skip--

Y/N sat on her knees in front of the throne, her hands tied behind her back as she and everyone in the court watched the elven king twirling the gun he confiscated from the girl while looking straight at her. “How does this.....contraption....work..?” , he said pointing it towards the ceiling as Y/N’s eyes widened “Thran- I don’t think that is a good idea.THRANDUIL N-” bang “- o”.The noise made the ever stoic elves flinch with shock,Thranduil almost falling off his throne as he and his subjects looked at the precise hole on the ceiling above him. The distraction gave time to Y/N to easily get out of her restraints as she stomped up to Thranduil, snatching the gun out of his hand. “Give me that! You really need to start listening instead of being stubborn Thran ! One wrong aim and I swear to God one of us would have dropped dead including your dumbass!?”, she yelled at the still shock ridden elven king. He just stared at her, though through his stoic face she could very much see he missed her. She missed him too. She loved him,he was her best friend and she knew that excuses were usless, for she had broken her promise to him. He had waited, everyone had. She had to make it all right. She sighed, her eyes softened now,the same way they had softened for Legolas yesterday night.If there was any softeness left in the girl anymore it was probably only there for the father and his son. The rest leaving as years passed. She stepped down the throne as looked at Legolas, who was practically begging her to not do anything more stupid or she’ll be put in the dungeons again. But she was Y/N , a time traveller, adventure and stupidity practically ran in her blood. Not only that but she’d even claim that she new Thranduil a bit better than most. Being a time traveller gave her a chance to predict future or correct the past considering that was exactly what her duty was truly supposed to be,correcting timelines that is. She had restored the future elven race by making sure Thranduil was save and sound, she had overlooked him since he was a mere elfling and was probably also one of the reason the king had survived the wrath of the northern dragons with just his face scarred she had stopped looking after him after that. She knew Thranduil but he didn’t know her until she made a sudden appearence during the battle of the five armies .She knew how to make Thranduil forgive her and even more. She mumbled a few incantations and suddenly a small glass globe appeared in front of Thranduil. “Thran, I’m really sorry about what happened but what the globe shows is the true reason I broke my promise,” the woman said with full sincerity.

There was silence in the throne room before Thranduil made an action as if to dismiss the court asking only Legolas and you to stay. “You did it for us...”,he said confirming his own words earning a nod from the woman. “Then I guess I have to apologize for putting you into the dungeons although it seems to have been proven quite useful to you and Legolas. The other two in the room froze. One looking at the other in quite the shock unlike the king who seemed to have a smug look upon his face. “Globe you little shit !”, grumbled Y/N makng the globe dissapear. Legolas figured that the globe may have shown more than necessary. “I want to hear it from you, Iôn nin”,his father practically ordered. “Im mel hen (I love her)”,he replied a sudden shyness engulfing Y/N. “I know you will ask me to let Legolas go on adventures with you but I’m still quite unconvinced.”, said Thranduil deciding to tease the woman a bit more. Y/N only grinned bashfully before saying, “I figured, so I may have brought you the best wine from my age and it’s in my time travelling machine”. The king grumbled, “Fine ! But both of you better return here every 10 years !” “Aww will someone miss us?” “Shut up Y/N” “Ada!” 

--Time Skip--

“Are you ready to go my Prince ?”

“I promised Y/N, I promised to go on Everlasting Adventures with you..”

--Fin--

Yaay! Finally done ! I have been pondering like an idiot over this fic but I guess it turned out well ! This wasn’t a request but I felt like it was really interesting ! I hope you guys liked it ! Please do comment me your thoughts!” Thank you for reading ! I love you guys!

~Love, Hri 

[hypermanga]

Amralime? What does it even mean? (Kili x reader)

Requested by: @naniellesworld

Request:  Hi there! Hope you'll accept this other request from me! Thank you very much if you do. It's a gift for @dashesofink , so if you could tag her in please :) Request : Kili x Fem!Reader. Proposal.

Word Count: 1348

A/N:  Well, I’m really late posting this but I hope it lives up to the expectations <3. Also, the line of Durin doesn’t perish because I’m still mad about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For once in your life, you were at peace.

For once in your life, you could be glad for your actions, as your actions had brought you to where you were today.

Had you not fled Mirkwood at the precise moment the orcs attacked the back gate alongside the Company, not liking King Thranduil’s policies, you would have never met the love of your life.

Watching from one of the balconies that rewarded you with a breathtaking view of the mountain down below, you glanced at your lover, Kili. He’d been very cheeky when you’d met him, trying to bribe you into search him for he could have, as he had put it “Anything down his trousers” for which he’d earned a laugh from you as well as a spark of interest about his journey, as it was not every day that the dwarves of Erebor stumbled upon your kingdom.

You spent all night talking, for which you earned a reprimand from Thranduil, saying how all the dwarves were stubborn and greedy and didn’t need our help nor interest at all. But you were long gone, approving of the journey as well as the motives. Didn’t everyone deserve to have their own home? Well, it seemed Thranduil begged to differ, and that’s how you ventured to Lake Town and fought alongside the dwarves who had stayed with Kili, who was recovering from a poisonous arrow, courtesy of Bolg.

As the Battle approached, you made up your decision to participate after seeing Thorin’s unwillingness to see the consequences of the upcoming conflict. You gazed all the armours that were lined up and covered in dust alongside Kili “You don’t have to participate, you know, this battle is ours and ours only” He watched you intently “I’ve got people to protect, and perhaps I’m not the most skilled with a sword, but I can hold myself in battle” You sheathed your sword, turning away to go back to Dale “(Y/N)” Kili caught your wrist, looking sad, those sad eyes that were inked in your brain “Please...Take care...” “You too Kili...Don’t get yourself killed please” Part of his heart told him to stay alongside his uncle, but the other one wanted to go with you.

In this case, his lineage was stronger but it allowed his heart‘s other half some space to make him land his eyes on your lips “Kili, I...” He started to tilt his head, closing his eyes, with you mimicking his actions “KILI” Thorin’s booming voice broke you both from your train of thought “See you in the battlefield” You shrugged, plastering on a sad smile before cursing Thorin mentally for this and the future events if anything was to happen to Kili.

It had been a miracle for the line of Durin to survive the battle, you'd thought, as the ambush the orcs had prepared could have been fatal. Thank Valar, you'd decided to accompany Kili on his way to Raven Hill, as you had the feeling nothing good was going to come from there: Fili was almost murdered in cold blood, but the unconscious body of his brother had been enough for Kili to engage in battle with Bolg. You still remember to this day how you leapt behind the orc, stabbing him repeatedly with your sword, out of pure fear for Kili's life, as well as the genuine smile he had rewarded you with which made your heart jump from your chest.

Even in the middle of the battle, he was able to calm you and make you feel like everything was going to go well, that you were going to make it alive. From then on, you fought back against back in perfect synchronization, slaying through enemies together as if you’d studied the other’s moves all your life.  

At that moment no one could deny there was something more than just friendship, even Thorin, much to his dismay.

"Amralime" You turned, smiling at Kili "You ought to tell me what does that mean one day, Meleth nîn" "Whenever you tell me whatever does this mean" Making you chuckle "I will tell you...If you catch me!" You pushed him out of the way and ran for the corridors of Erebor "You sneaky...Come back! (Y/N) That's not fair!" You dodged gracefully anyone who happened to be in your way, such as Balin and Bofur, who just saluted you with a smile, they saw Kili not far behind "Thorin!" You stopped in a halt, as the Company's leader turned a corner, looking as majestic as per usual "(Y/N)" You tried to gaze anywhere but his eyes "Again fooling around?" He arched a brow, making you look down in embarrassment "Go down the stairs, take a left turn and a right one. It will be more difficult for him to catch you" He winked at you, making you smile back. Following his instructions, you made your way into a hall with a lot of columns in it,  making you understand Thorin's point "Oh (Y/N)" Kili said in a sing-song voice, making you hide behind a column "I know you're in here...Very funny Uncle! Taking her side" You heard him scream, as well as him stomping his feet in annoyance upon hearing Thorin's laugh.

"I don't care, for I always win, nobody beats me at knowing these...CORRIDORS!" He had jumped behind one of the columns, not too close but not too far from you "Well, bummer. This would have been...PERFECT!" Now he was just two columns across from you "AW, C'MON!" He looked like an enraged child, making you chuckle. His ears perched at that, making you cover your mouth in fear and excitement "It seems my sweet (Y/N) is not here...Now she'll have to live without knowing what Amralime means" You let out a huff "Unless...She" He stalked to your column "Is..." Another step "Behind..." Another "This..." Another "COLUMN!" He got the one next to yours "FOR MAHAL'S SAKE" You burst out laughing, not caring for anything "So you think this is funny huh?!" He embraced you from behind, making you yelp in surprise "I'm sorry! It was too much" As you came down from the high, you slumped to the floor "Fine, you win" Now that you were to pronounce those words, nerves seemed to come back to you, making you light-headed again "It's okay, you don't have to tell me" He smiled "No, it's alright. Nîn Meleth means "My love" in Sindarin...So yeah, now you can connect the dots, I really, really like you. In fact I might be in love with you, Kili Durin".

At that, he appeared at a loss of words, before bursting out laughing "What's so funny?" "All these months, not wanting to tell me what it means, and it means the same as Amralime!" He used the column as support, gasping for air "Wait...Does that mean that..." He didn't let you finish the sentence, as he grabbed your face and kissed you with all the passion he could muster after his laughing fit.

And what a kiss, like the ones you'd read on when you were a wee elfling, dreaming about love stories.

As you parted in need for air, Kili took out a little box from his pocket "What's this?" "This, Amralime, is a courting bead" Your eyes widened at that "W-What?" "If that's okay with you, I would like to court you, in hopes of one day being your beloved husband" He sounded all royalty like, making you chuckle "Yes, I shall accept it with happiness and joy" You mimicked his posh voice, earning a snicker from him as he started to braid your hair "Now, your turn" You grabbed the other bead, and secured it carefully in the braid you'd done "Wow..." Your eyes glazed at the realisation "I'm bethroded" You smiled sweetly, laughing in desbelief at the words that just came out of your mouth "Yeah" Kili took your hand in his bigger one "I thank the Valar everyday for letting him cross our paths"

"I love you Kili, Nîn Meleth"

"I love you too, Amralime"

Well, hope you liked it @dashesofink 😁 and was worth the wait!😘

~~~~~

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Prince Runaan headcanon

@julia on Twitter found this similarity recently and the first thing I thought of was: if the Sun staff belongs to the Sun Queen, does the Moon staff belong to Moon royalty, and if so does that mean that Runaan is a prince?

“Runaan of the Moonshadow Elves” is his full name. I never gave it much thought. But Rayla isn’t Rayla of the Moonshadow Elves. Lujanne isn’t Lujanne of the Moonshadow Elves. Only Runaan seems to have this long title.

Because it’s his title.

Let me make a quick list of princey facts and headcanons about Runaan, which spawned from a lively Discord discussion today:

elaborate, perfectly coiffed hairstyle compared to simpler or shaggy styles for the other Moonshadows we’ve met

by far the longest hair among the Moonshadows, or any elves except Queen Khessa

reserved demeanor, formal posture

different accent

specifically, British when everyone else (except Lujanne) has a Scottish accent, so there’s a bit of historical reference in there

(so Lujanne is now royalty or royal-adjacent too it seems)

Runaan’s mount just got revealed as a Moonstrider, which is a difficult creature to tame and control unless you’re an experienced and patient trainer/ rider, and we all know how Prince Callum had to take riding lessons all the time because That’s What Princes Do. So Runaan could have learned to ride his Moonstrider at a very young age as part of his princely duties and just be That Good now

Thranduil on his elk. That is all.

(no take your time it’s a good visual)

Rayla’s parents were Runaan’s best friends

princes don’t have best friends

what they do have is bodyguards

Rayla’s parents were primed to work for the Dragon Queen because they’d spent years guarding another prince: Runaan

of course Runaan had to be the one to speak his true feelings to Ethari, rather than the other way around. No one just walks up to their prince and confesses their love. It is Not Done. 

Rayla’s parents must’ve had pity on Runaan and Ethari and encouraged Runaan to speak up, because Ethari, however he felt, could never say it out loud, and that must’ve been really hard on him with all his big open feels

growing up in a royal environment would teach Runaan early on to separate his feelings into public and private, so he has no trouble switching into assassin mode

he may not have had much of a soft side until he met Ethari

he initiates the kiss by the pool, but he also breaks it. He’s learned how to be soft, but there are still hard limits built into who he is, and those will probably never change

Runaan’s bio says “he cares deeply for his people” and that means literally all the Moonshadow elves because he’s their prince

“Humans are liars” is probably something he learned from his family rather than as an assassin

Runaan being sent to a castle to kill a prince could have all kinds of deeper associations for him, but he took the job anyway

the Dragon Queen sent a prince to kill a prince, and to kill a king for killing a king

it’s likely that Runaan isn’t in line for the throne at the moment because he became an assassin. It’s dangerous work, and no one wants an unstable kingdom. I mean he is living in a tree with a cute craftsman

he could have had support within his family, but possibly only because they wanted his spot in the succession if he left to be with Ethari

whatever his connection to his royal family, he’s living near the border in the Silvergrove with Ethari and Rayla now, and there’s got to be a story there. Did he leave willingly, or was he chased out? Whatever happened, his bodyguards chose him over everything else and stayed with him. 

maybe the reason Rayla’s parents joined the Dragon Guard is less to do with Sarai’s death and more to do with losing their jobs at the Moonshadow palace

and maybe they weren’t a couple either until Runaan and Ethari fell in love, and their constant advice and nudging and sneaking the two to see each other brought them together until they fell in love too

Runaan doesn’t like sweets. He started off as a prince and moved into a tree. Sarai adores sweets. She started off as not-a-queen and moved into the palace. He probably ate all he wanted and got tired of indulging himself, whereas Sarai finally got to indulge for the first time.

[arda-tourism-board]

My writing (part 1)

I know nobody wants to hear about it, but I've been writing the same stories but slightly to the left each time since 2013 so I may as well share them. I haven't published anything, but i’m hoping to one day.

Also every time i do “quotes” it’s not a quote it’s just words to that effect.

Lillith (part 1)

Lillith (More/many) and Lucian (either enchantment or indebted) (the names were a joke about chosen ones that got out of hand), twin descendants of Arwen and Aragorn, recieve a Silmaril in their parent's will and they now have to hide it. An accident throws them back to the year 2000, before they've even been born, and they suddenly have to navigate the year in a new country, discovering the truth behind their long lost heritage while dodging the unawakened reborn Fëanorions and their "father", Kane Fey.

They start this by almost being run over by Nimrodel, who takes them in for some reason without question.

They don’t recognise them at first in the slightest, and Lucian (now Lukas) strikes up a friendship with “Tyler” before Nimrodel strikes it down.

They manage to befriend them, but things get more complicated when the eldest, "Russell," begins to remember who he was, and seems to recognise Lillith and her real name.

Without the binding of the oath, the Fëanorions are friendlier, less rageful, but their past life haunts them.

Lillith is apparently almost identical to someone they knew in Aman, who had a long affair and children with Caranthir, and disappeared with them around three years before the death of Finwë.

Lillith, who remembers nothing of this, and is most definitely human, is confused to say the least, but they just chalk it down to coincidence.

She and Caranthir - Matt - get closer anyway, but it doesn't work out because she feels he's trying to replace her with her apparent double.

Lucian gets involved with Idrillien - explain later - and begins getting involved with rediscovering their heritage even more. Lillith avoids them due to the political issues surrounding the Silmaril, opting to hide it instead.

Cut to 2020. Lillith has the Silmaril, and an accident occurs where she, her younger self, and her brother, are thrown back in time. This completes the 2020-2000 loop, and starts an 80,000 year loop.

Lillith (part 2) girl falls into middle earth is like, my brand.

Lillith is under a land with only starlight, the desert surrounding her and the only thing in her possession being the Silmaril.

In a fit of madness she eats it (yes I know the plot point is weird but stick with me). This connects her to the two trees, and gives her youth.

She eventually finds her way out of the desert and reaches the path of Eldar heading to Aman.

She joins them, learning the language with them and realising that she's in Arda. This is confirmed when they encounter Oromë, and he points at her and goes "wtf you're not an elf."

She ends up living in Alqualondë, but when she meets a young Morifinwë, she realises that the person she'd been jealous of and thought he was trying to replace her with was herself.

They have three children. Lillith refuses marriage. Marriage would bind her to stay by his side, and she knows what's coming next.

She steals her daughters away to Ennor, and spend the rest of her days in Rhûn, avoiding watching the inevitable.

In the end she falls in love with a Lindi (Nandorin) elleth, Ovranen (abound). Together they travel the world, visiting the most Eastern and Southern continents, eventually returning to Arda and Lillith finally meets Arwen and Aragorn, and finds out the fate of her daughters.

The first, named Helleneth (Sky Maiden), went to Doriath, and met and married Thranduil, a Sindarin Lord. She met her fate to grief from the loss of her fourth child, stolen from the crib (plot point for later on). At this, she confessed her heritage and was banished from Eryn Lasgalen, but an incident meant that everyone thought she was dead. She travelled to the Grey Havens under a new name, Lalyanon (traveller), and sailed home.

The second, named Kemeninya (Earth maiden), stayed in the North, living in Gondolin for a time, but when it fell, ran Northwards, eventually joining with the rangers of the North.

The third, named Rúnanen (freer), eventually rejoined with her father, and joined the Ñoldorin cause. She met the same fate as her father, run through with a sword, but instead dying at the gates of Sirion.

Lillith visits Kemeninya, now going by Dolenath (hidden), and they reconnect.

Lillith and Ovranen then recount their travels for archive, and then continue to travel, never settling down.

80,000 years old, Lillith calls on Nimrodel, and asks her for a favour. Take care of her brother.

Lost

I know crossovers are literally the worst thing in the world but I don't care so you can pry this one from my cold, dead, hands. There’s some romance in this one, but it doesn’t come until much, much, later.

Haruka, a Jedi master, on the run from the Empire, discovers a backwater world where she can disguise herself perfectly. Almost too perfectly. The customs throw her at first but she’s trained to adapt to anything.

She clips a translator to her ear, and she gets a job as a servant in Imladris.

Everyone thinks she's really young, and they're right. She's 32, and elves aren't fully matured until they're 50, but nobody told her that. She wasn't even aware she shared a species with them. Or anyone.

She's more concerned about the fact she needs to hide her left leg because it's made of metal and could rat her out to one of the very criminal merchants that could know about the Empire’s very large bounty on her head.

She does manage to evade the merchants, but when she leaves her leg on her bed at some point she has to explain that,,, maybe she isn’t local.

A diplomatic visit from Eryn Lasgalen in the form of the Crown Prince does change things though. Celeberyn points straight at Haruka and goes “you look exactly like my little brother. That’s weird.”

She’s panicking now because she actually has no idea where she came from, and just nods, and goes, “cool.”

Internally she’s freaking out because he mentioned that said brother had a missing identical twin (yes, you heard me, identical) and now she’s trying to figure out if she’s ok to exist here, cause she’s come across a lot of cultures and there isn’t a 100% track record with that.

After a long day of asking people random questions, she figures out that she’s fine here.

Her translator chip finally breaks (one of the twins stepped on it) and she just doesn’t talk to anyone for a month straight.

She turns 50, and offhandedly mentions it to someone because she’s kinda surprised she hasn’t aged yet and they just go what

Turns out she’s meant to go to school and stuff. And learn to write. That isn’t a class thing here, so they’re super concerned because this is a baby and she only has one leg and can’t write who did this to her

Turns out going “oh yeah I was a general in this war” when prompted to explain the situation has so many questions raised.

Everything is pieced together between her and Lisbeth, the youngest after her, in a clearing.

Turns out Haruka is the long lost twin “prince” of Eryn Lasgalen, stolen by someone looking to make a quick buck by selling her to the Jedi because of her hypersensitivity to the force. (elves are born very far and few between)

She swears Lisbeth to secrecy, but it all comes out when Legolas visits Imladris and demands to speak to her.

Turns out they’re linked, even across galaxies, and whenever she went through great physical or emotional trauma, he felt it, but Haruka learned to block out her emotions a long time ago, so never felt any of his. (Turns out that’s why her phantom pains are so realistic, because she was feeling the sensations on his leg to compensate.)

She is unable to deny the fact of her identity now, but she (rightly) refuses to go by her birth name, mainly because Haruka has been her name from the start anyway (it’s gender neutral).

She decides instead of facing her family, she’ll go back into space (because flat earth arda for elves is a mindset and she’s never even heard of it).

She manages (somehow) to find a merchant, and doesn’t realise she’s been followed by Elrohir until she’s dropped off on Lothal and he taps her on the shoulder like “hey where are we and what are all these creatures i’m scared”

She drags him with her to meet with the new Republic, and she gets a new translator chip, leg, and dyes her hair for fun (this is stressful she deserves the dark blue hair).

They eat lunch at a street café, and have a long conversation about Haruka’s torrid backstory. They don’t bond, but they do become friends.

Before, their dynamic was “random servant number 5″ and “lord” but now it’s “jedi master” and her “friend who only knows three words.”

She offers to take him home, but he declines on the basis that home will be there a lot longer than this will.

They start working together at the new republic. Turns out Elrohir makes an excellent fake body guard (he can fight but that’s not the point), and Haruka helps bring some of the old Jedi practices into the new order.

When the new jedi order falls, Haruka steals as many of the students away and takes them and Elrohir back to Arda.

They chill out in Imladris, hiding out for a few years before Haruka remembers that she left because she was avoiding the whole family situation, and has to confront the fact that she is royalty, and finally meets her dad (her mother’s fate is discussed above).

It goes a lot better than expected. The first thing he asks about is why she’s a woman, and it’s awkward, but they eventually fall into a good conversation.

Haruka thinks, “hey, maybe I can exist here in a family.”

But at the same time she’s got her found family in Imladris (cause you know she basically got adopted the minute she, a child, mentioned that she’d been in a war) (have i read too many salvage fics? yes. will i now compare elrond to hakoda? yes. you saw it here first folks only in this story she’s adopted by the entire serving staff.)

Haruka doesn’t venture to the stars for another for hundred years. For now, she’s just content on Arda. She takes to the stars again sometime after the end of the third age, now bored and eager to explore again. Elrohir comes with her. Together they build a new found family and crew, exploring the galaxy.

Part 2 coming soon

[bluebellhairpin]

Follow You

Thorin Oakenshield X Reader

A/N: Angsty then Fluffy. Exactly how I like it. - Nemo

Request: Hi could you please write a story about reader and Thorin... Reader having War scars on all her body.. And she is scared that Thorin might be put off by it and he shows her that it's not true.... -  @curioiscat

Summary: Erebor has been reclaimed, but not without some loss, mostly taken via bodily harm. However, celebrations are set to be held, and one dwarrowdam isn’t too keen on the idea. Thorin changes her mind. 

Masterlist  

The Company almost couldn't believe it. 

Erebor was theirs. 

It didn't belong to a dragon anymore. 

It wasn't being attacked by Orcs. 

It was home again. 

The Dwarfs from Middle-Earth had all come back, the mines in the mountain back up and running, and the trading towns of Dale and Laketown were flourishing and filled with forms from all walks of life once more. A celebration was held. It was for everyone, after all in a way everyone did help reclaim the mountain in some way.

Dwarves, Humans, and Elves alike would journey to Erebor, even Thranduil had made sure to get there early (thanks to some bribing) so as to not miss anything. But despite the buzz of excitement over the grand party, there was one that was more anxious about it than joyous.

(y/n) wasn't too keen on the idea of a party, especially when Thorin's sister, Dis, arrived at the mountain and took her - the only dwarrowdam of the Company - under her careful watch. (y/n) had no idea about how to act around royalty or high-courteers, Thorin and the rest of the Company weren't half as concerned about titles and formalities during the journey compared to what was expected. So Dis taught her, and for that she was grateful. Without Dis, she would've made a fool out of herself at least four times now, and still counting. 

But still, (y/n) had yet to be seen outside you quarters wearing clothes that weren't traveling clothes. 

Most of the other female courteers wore dresses that could've been woven from the gemstones in the mines. They sparkled and shone, they swished around their ankles like waves lapping at the shores, and the worst part for (y/n) - they often had nothing to cover their shoulders, and sometimes even a length down their back. 

(y/n) didn't like that at all.

She had no problem with the dresses themselves, she thought they were amazingly beautiful, but she just couldn't help the feelings of what others might think of her if she wore one outside of her room and Dis' company. Not that she didn't look good in the dress, in fact she was told frequently by Dis that she looked stunning. 

She was covered in scars, and she didn't think that looked good at all. 

The scars that littered her back, arms, torso, and most of her body were all from battle. Oh the stories her skin could tell. Somewhere old and white, some were faded, others left ghosts of scars that ached when the weather changed, others were from the journey to Erebor, still pink and fresh, and yet others newer, still tender and sore from the Battle of Five Armies. 

Even (y/n) didn't escape harm, no matter how hard she tried. After all, it was part of her duty to make sure the King and Dis' two sons didn't die, and if she gained some new scrapes and bruises from it then it didn't worry her. Not until now, when she'd have to practically show them off to everyone she walked past.

Now music echoed through the stone hallways, and (y/n) was stuck in front of her mirror again, Dis was nowhere to be seen, probably already downstairs in the hall with Fili and Kili, so encouragement wasn't coming anytime soon. Not from Dis. 

Thorin had been looking for (y/n) since before the party even started, he didn't feel like celebrating if she wasn't there too - even if she was halfway across the grand room enjoying herself with others. He hadn't been able to spot her in the hall, and no one else he asked could point to where she was. He was getting a little worried. Then he asked his nephews, and they pointed him to Dis, who then told him to check (y/n)'s quarters. 

So he did, and Dis was right. Thorin should've known, Dis always knows where (y/n) would be nowadays. 

Before he was halfway down the hallway to her door, she stepped out of her room, and Thorin felt his breath catch and his heart skipped a beat. 

Her hair was half tied back in loose braids, ribbons of golden yellow and blue twisted into the strands. Her dress matched her hair ribbons, a beautiful shining gold, with navy blue lace surrounding the bodice, sheer sleeves and the fabric edges. She was beautiful. 

But Thorin could tell something was wrong, she was wringing her hands, breathing deeply, and staring ahead at the wall. She shook her head, then quickly went back into her room, skirts lapping at her ankles. 

Thorin followed, stopping just shy of outside her door where he could hear her light mutterings. 

"I can't do this."

"It's so stupid, why can't I do this?" 

"It's not like I need anyone to hold my damn hand!" 

"I've taken on an army of Orcs, what makes this any worse?" 

Thorin watched her through the ajar door as she sighed, slumping onto the edge of her bed and rested her hands on her bare shoulders, head tilted back and eyes closed. He debated whether to confront her or not, from what he could see there was nothing wrong - to him she always looked perfect, and now she looked like nothing less than a goddess. But he of all people knew that what you feel can sometimes not be said though words. 

She was stressed, nervous, anxious, and any other word of the like, and he didn't know why. But he wanted to know why. 

"I've been looking for you." he said quietly, pushing the door open to give her time to compose herself. She shot up to stand, hands not moving from the skin of her shoulders, and she was as stiff as a board Thorin noticed. She was hiding something. No one stood like that on instinct. "It really is some celebration you're missing." he added. 

"I'm," she started, looking off to one side for a moment, "I'm not too keen on parties. Too loud." She was a horrible liar. Thorin tilted his head at her, quirking up an eyebrow with a small smile.

"You love it when Fili and Kili pull you into their shanties. Those two are as loud as it gets." ( y/n) relaxed slightly, defeated.

"I just," she sighed, "I don't like the dress. It doesn't suit me at all." Thorin shook his head.

"Mahal, you're wrong. You look gorgeous." 

"You're saying that just because." A moment passed after she spoke.

"What's really wrong?" Thorin asked, throwing formalities and subtly right out the window. (y/n) gaped at him for a few moments, and then her hands came loose around her shoulders.

"The bare skin. I'm... Not used to it very much." she said, shifting on her feet as she looked up at him. Thorin frowned, stepping further into the room. She looked at him, seeing in his eyes he still didn't understand, but wasn't going to ask her to explain. She sucked in a breath and let her hands drop, revealing scars that started on her shoulders that crept down onto her back. The most prominent one was her newest, one he'd heard of but hadn't had the chance to see.

She was helping the Elf Legolas up at the frozen waterfall when she was - somehow - caught blindsided and almost had an Orc's axe go through her neck. If Legolas wasn't able to stop the Orc's momentum in time, her head would've rolled instead of just getting a sizable cut. She had to stop fighting, but she was still alive, and that's what mattered to Thorin. Her injury was much like his foot; not deadly, still a nuisance, but at least they were alive. 

"The scars. Everyone will stare." She mumbled, going back to fiddling with her hands. 

"People will stare, but not because of your scars." Thorin said, taking her jittery fingers in his hands. (y/n) looked down at where their hands met, and let out a contented sigh that Thorin almost missed. "You beauty is only added to by the things you'd call flaws that mar your skin. They tell a story of you, and no wall paintings, folk stories or inscriptions can do that well. Not even if there was a hundred of them." Thorin rested a hand to cup her jaw, tilting her downcast eyes to meet his.

"Thorin..."

"You are you, and I-" Thorin stopped for a moment, leaning forwards to gently press his forehead to hers. "I love you." She leant back, looking up into his eyes, her own wide in awe.

"You love me?" she asked, letting out a breathing laugh.

"Scars and all. I wouldn't have you any other way." he said smiling, bringing her hand up to press a kiss to her knuckles. 

"Why, my king, I'm honored." (y/n) giggled, bowing in a jest. Thorin sighed, rolling his eyes at her before tugging her hand as he started walking towards the door. (y/n) still seemed reluctant, but with Thorin pulling her along, she didn't fight against it.

"I am no king to you, only a dwarf asking the most precious person in his life for a dance." Thorin offered, looking back at (y/n) as she closed the door behind her. "All I ask is one dance, maybe share a drink if you want, then you can come back here if you still feel off. Okay?" Her smile was small, but her eyes told Thorin that she didn't mind his proposition.

"One dance and a drink." she nodded, taking his hand in hers and pressing a kiss to it, just like he did to hers. "I was able to fight Orcs alongside you. I followed you across Middle-Earth and into battle, for you I've been able to do things I never quite thought I would." 

"You could do all those things on your own. But if, for this, you need someone by your side," Thorin started, "I walk with you forever." 

"You were my king first, then my friend. Now you say you love me and will stand by me," (y/n)'s smile was wide, she couldn't stop the words coming out of her mouth, and Thorin couldn't help the mirrored smile that formed on his face too, "And I know I'll follow you anywhere you want me too."

[coralstories]

An Unexpected Arrival: Chapter 7

Word count: 1266

It’s another “main character shows up in Mirkwood and has to figure out how to survive”, but this time with my OC Aurelia Castillo and she freaks out first. Have fun laughing at her!

A/N: the bolded text is a different language, text in italics are thoughts

Warnings: none really, Lia has a moment of panic

The morning after her breakdown, she and Tauriel went to see Thranduil. They told him all about their efforts to find a way home for Aurelia, but they had no luck so far. Aurelia also explained more about her powers. She stressed that she could not bring someone back from the dead. Then, Thranduil had a question for her. 

“You have made it clear that you will listen to no commands from me since I am not your king,” he began. “However, if I ask you to assist the healers in some cases, would you?”

“Of course,” Aurelia said immediately. 

Thranduil was surprised at her easy agreement. Something of his surprise must have shown on his face because Aurelia smiled. 

“I’m a healer,” she said. “It’s my duty to help whoever I can. Besides, I offered to do odd jobs around here from the first day. You didn’t take me up on it, which gave me time to try to figure out a way home. Since I’m not getting anywhere, I’m not going to be mad if I have something to distract me.”

Thranduil nodded. 

“I will have you report to the head healer this afternoon.”

“Thank you, King Thranduil,” Aurelia said, tilting her head. 

Thranduil chuckled. “You continue to surprise me, child.”

Aurelia smiled. She was not offended at being called a child because she could hear the endearing note in the elven king’s voice. After that, Aurelia recovered her bright and cheery personality. The only difference was that she began to fuss over Emlithor, which he secretly enjoyed. She also started to befriend Lúthon. The elf whose life she had saved continued to bring her presents and gifts whenever he saw her. He deflected Aurelia’s protests, always claiming that he owed her a debt he could never repay. Sometimes it was a simple flower crown.

“Lúthon, my room is already full of flowers!” 

“All the better to suit your own bright and beautiful self. Besides, without your light, I would not be here.” 

“What?”

Other times it was a dress that he had ordered custom-made for her.

“Lúthon, you know I make my own clothes here, right? You didn’t have to go troubling one of the seamstresses!” 

“Ah, yes, but you deserve to have something made for you, something fit for royalty. You are, after all, a life-giver, in more ways than one.” 

“You’re ridiculous.”

Aurelia kept her promise to Thranduil and visited the healers at least four times a week. Even if there were only minor injuries, Aurelia helped keep the place tidy. She changed the bedsheets, washed rags, and restocked supplies. She never inserted herself into a situation unless asked, which the healers appreciated. When one of them commented on it, Aurelia shrugged and replied, “You all are very capable. Unless you ask for my help, I really don’t think you need it.”

Most nights, she and Tauriel continued to study the library’s endless book collection. Tauriel began training her with a weapon and they threw ideas back and forth during practice. Unfortunately, they did not see any real results. Aurelia, while having long given up hope, did not stop her efforts. Either she would find something soon and go home, or she would find something years from now after having lived a nice life in Mirkwood. She still ventured into the forest with Emlithor and Tauriel on occasion. But they were quick excursions, meant only to give her room to breathe. 

She met with Thranduil once more to give him an update on her status. That night, Aurelia was perusing some of the old books before bed. One passage in a particular volume caught her eye. When she realized what she was reading, she went back and read it again. Eyes widening, she read it a third time, and read the paragraphs before and after it. Her heart rate quickened. She leaped from her bed and ran through the halls back to the throne room, hoping Thranduil was still there. The guards at the door greeted her cordially. Aurelia had become a familiar face throughout the palace. She surprised them by barreling right through them. 

“Thranduil, I think—!” she started, then stopped short. 

Thranduil was standing, or rather, prowling around the pedestal beneath the throne. As he took another step, she saw what, or rather who, he was circling in such a menacing manner. It was Thorin, son of Thrain, King Under the Mountain.

Of course, Aurelia recognized him immediately. Richard Armitage was rather attractive, and he had recited Thorin’s full title more than once. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she realized what was happening. The book slipped from her grasp. She glanced back to Thranduil and saw cold anger on his face. It was much more intense than when she had first been dragged into the throne room. She stumbled backward, into one of the guards.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized quickly. “I didn’t realize—“

“Get her out of here,” Thranduil snapped to the guard.

The guard put a hand on her back, and she held his arm as she turned with him to the door. She glanced back at Thorin with wide eyes and saw his angry expression clouded by curiosity. Aurelia allowed the guard to lead her back into the main hallway, shell-shocked. A realization was dawning on her.

“Have you never seen a dwarf before, my lady?” the guard asked.

Aurelia patted his arm. She recovered her smile and looked up at him. 

“Not in person!” she exclaimed. “His hair and beard are wonderful, don’t you think?”

The elf guard made a face. “No,” he said. 

“I figured you’d say that!” Aurelia said, laughing. “It’s pretty dirty right now, but I think it’s pretty cool. I mean, it works on some people.”

Aurelia ran back to her room and threw the book down on the bed. She sat against the door and clutched her head between her knees, her mind whirling. 

She had assumed that she had arrived after the Battle of the Five Armies, or even after the Return of the King. It seems she was wrong. Now, Thorin and his Company were here, ready to cause turmoil, albeit unintentionally. She didn’t want Tauriel, or any of them, to go through that pain. She knew what would happen, and she looked ahead with dread to the Battle. She knew who would—

Her head shot up. She knew who would be killed, which meant she knew who she could save. She stared open-mouthed at the floor. The epiphany hit her like a lightning bolt: she was here for a reason. She had a purpose. After all, it was her duty to heal whoever she could. She stood up quickly, only to be knocked over by the door opening. 

“Ow!” she exclaimed, catching herself on the bed frame. 

“Oh! Aurelia, I’m sorry!” Tauriel exclaimed. “What were you doing in front of the door?”

Aurelia knew how to take an opportunity when it was presented to her. She turned around and smiled at Tauriel.

“Well, actually,” she said. “I wanted to go see those dwarves. They’re in the dungeons, right? I’ve never seen a dwarf in real life before!”

“We’re not supposed to visit them, Aurelia,” Tauriel said. “They’re prisoners for a reason.”

“And what reason is that? Besides, you’re Captain of the Guard right? Don’t you have to check up on the prisoners at some point?”

Tauriel stared at Aurelia. She brandished her best innocent smile, a hopeful expression in her eyes. Tauriel sighed.

“This is true. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to bring you along.”

“Yes!”

[d3-iseefire]

Unfinished Hobbit/Once Upon a Time Snippet

I know the entire plot for this one so I’ll get to it eventually - it wouldn’t be very long, just a few chapters or so. :)

Bilba padded through the corridor, nodding in greeting at various people as they passed by. She kept her head up and her back straight. Her dress, a deep silver with purple embroidered, jeweled panels, was impeccable. She’d tamed the wild curls her hair was prone to as best she could, tying them back with a purple satin ribbon and draping the entire mass over one shoulder.

For all intents and purposes she looked flawless.

She looked like a Princess.

 Looked.

 That was the word.

She looked like a Princess.

She turned a corner and found herself in an empty stretch of hall. Almost immediately her shoulders slumped and she leaned against the wall, one hand and her forehead against the cold stone. She wrapped her other arm around the ever increasing swell of her stomach. No one could tell her exactly how long a half hobbit, half dwarven pregnancy might last but she had still had two months to go before she was full term for a hobbit, let alone a dwarf who was usually pregnant much longer. She sincerely hoped it wouldn’t go much past the nine month mark. She wasn’t sure how much bigger she could handle getting without literally bursting.

“Bilba?” a familiar, concerned voice spoke just behind her. “Are you alright?”

Bilba grit her teeth and straightened. Why was it that every time she faltered, even for an instant, there was someone right there to witness it? She took a deep breath, turned and put on what she hoped was a convincing smile. “I’m fine, Fili. Just resting a moment.”

He didn’t look convinced. He stepped forward and held an arm out. “Why don’t you sit down for a moment?”

Bilba’s shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. She quietly took his arm and allowed him to guide her to one of the ornate benches that dotted the various corridors of Erebor. She sat down awkwardly, one hand on the small of her back as it protested.

Fili sat next to her, still looking worried. “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call Oin.”

“I’m pregnant, Fili,” Bilba said dryly. “Not dying.”

“I know,” He settled back, clearly ready to sit beside her until he was convinced she wasn’t going to spontaneously go into early labor in the hall. He was dressed in the robes and clothing befitting his rank complete with a circlet on his brow.

He didn’t just look like a Prince.  

He was one in every aspect.

If he’d shown up at Bag End dressed like that, along with Thorin and Kili in their regalia, complete with crowns and honor guard…would she still have treated them the same? Agreed to go with them?

She wasn’t sure.

It had all been so…abstract. The Shire had no royalty. Status was based on reputation and character, followed closely by wealth. The closest thing they had to royalty were the Tooks, her own family, but none of them had ever viewed themselves, or been treated, as such. She had always had a sterling reputation, been considered above reproach and had known many others in like regard. So when the Durins had arrived she’d reacted to them as she would to a fellow Hobbit of her station and class.

She hadn’t gotten it, not really.

They were nowhere near her station or class.

Or…to put it more accurately…she was nowhere near theirs.

Even after they’d left she’d failed to grasp it. To be fair she doubted anyone would have mistaken any of their Company for royalty. All three Durins had been as mud splattered, exhausted and beaten by the elements as the rest of them.

It hadn’t truly hit her until after they’d taken back the mountain, when she’d stood alongside the rest of the Company, a crowd of newly arrived dwarves kneeling behind her watching as Gandalf crowned Thorin the King under the Mountain. Fili and Kili had stood on either side of him, dressed as they always dressed now, and it had been in that moment that she’d finally, truly gotten it.

Much to her horror.

Had she understood sooner she’d never have treated them with such familiarity, never shown such disregard for their station, and she certainly would never, ever have ended up in the situation she now found herself in.

Trying to be a Princess and falling woefully short.

“Where’s Kili?”

Bilba flinched. Someone walked past and she corrected her posture as best she could. While most of the dwarves treated her with respect there were a few who were…decidedly less than kind. They might not have said anything to her face, yet, but she’d heard the rumors they’d started. About how she’d taken advantage, entrapped a Prince, was only interested in money and power and status. She’d done her best to rise above it, to prove she was more than what they said, even if all the while she felt she was failing miserably. “Thranduil is visiting. Kili is taking him on a tour to see some of the newly restored halls while they wait for Thorin to be free.”

That was mostly true. There had been a tour and Kili had headed it.

She couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice as she spoke and Fili was far too perceptive to miss it.

“Let me guess. He brought Tauriel with him again?” When she didn’t answer he scowled. “So much for Thranduil being less of a bastard now that the alliance is back on.”

“I don’t think it’s that so much as he’s just oblivious,” Bilba said wearily. “She is the Captain of his guard after all, it makes sense for her to be here.”

Fili leaned against the wall. “I suppose.”

Bilba doubted Thranduil had any idea of the general awkwardness of things. It probably wasn’t as if Tauriel spent much time telling her liege about her personal problems.

Especially, Bilba thought bitterly, when, if she did, it might mean she wouldn’t get to be around Kili anymore. Thinking of him made her gut twist and she grimaced, turning her head away from Fili as a wave of nausea rolled through her.

“Why don’t you go lie down, Bilba? You look tired.”

She dug her hands into the fabric of her skirt, remembering the way she’d stuttered to a stop in her tracks as Kili dismissed her in front of Thranduil and Tauriel. She’d then had to stand like an idiot as he walked off with the two of them by his side, Tauriel walking far too close with her head down near his as if the two of them were sharing in some grand secret.

Yavanna but it had been humiliating.  

If she were in her own home, if she were married to a man she’d chosen and who’d chosen her, things would be different. She’d have stood up for herself, insisted on going, told Kili she wasn’t comfortable with him being around Tauriel, talked to him. But she wasn’t at home, and Kili didn’t love her and so she stayed silent from the very real fear that, were she to complain, Kili would take Tauriel’s side.

She knew Kili didn’t love her because she knew full well what he looked like when he was in love. She’d seen it when they’d been in Mirkwood, when he’d been around Tauriel. Back before the party in Lake-town where they’d celebrated how far they’d come, where there had been far too much alcohol and far too little common sense. How Kili had behaved around Tauriel back then was nothing like how he behaved around his hobbit wife now. When it came to her, Bilba thought tiredly, Kili was awkward and distracted, lately more so than usual. Several times now she’d caught him simply staring at her, a completely blank look on his face. Coming from someone who always wore his emotions on his sleeve it was discomforting to say the least. Was he regretting his choice? Had he decided that honor, in the end, was not worth denying his heart? Was he trying to think of ways to quietly put her aside and move on with the woman he actually wanted?

She had tried to make things as easy as possible for him. He deserved that much, he’d never been anything but kind to her in spite of the awkwardness. She didn’t see him very often, his duties keeping him busy, but he was still with her every time she went to Oin for a check-up. He was always there to escort her to and from meals and never failed to ask how she was doing. Sometimes Bilba convinced herself he did it because he cared, other times she was equally convinced it was because he cared about the baby. That line of thought always brought pain so she did her best to avoid it but it had a tendency to creep in anyway, particularly of late. She’d gotten so large it had become difficult to get in and out of bed, to the point she’d finally caved and brought it up to Kili. He’d been unaware, the two of them didn’t share a room after all. His chamber was on the other side of a large sitting area that connected their suites, much too far to hear her if she called to him for help. She’d expected, at worst, he’d offer empty platitudes and had hoped that, at best, he might have some stairs added to the side of her bed or possibly lower it so she didn’t have to struggle quite so much. He’d done both, and then had gone a step farther and had started sleeping with her in it. It was incredibly awkward but also gave her great peace of mind and, for that, she was grateful.

In return, she did her best to be a proper wife and Princess. To not embarrass him, or give anyone cause to question his judgement when it came to marrying her. No one outside the Company, after all, knew the truth. As far as they knew he’d married her for love and Mahal had blessed them with a pregnancy almost immediately after. The baby being a mix of both races was a great help in that no one could say exactly how long the pregnancy should last so even if the baby were born tomorrow no rumors would arise over how “early” the baby had come.

It all looked perfectly proper. It was important that it look proper. Thorin had ruled well in the Blue Mountains but never in Erebor and Fili and Kili had always preferred being behind the scenes. They had much to prove to their people, that they were capable of ruling the kingdom and that the heirs, both of them, were honorable, mature, and responsible. A scandal could shake the people’s faith in their King, and in the heirs he’d chosen to succeed.

So it was important, and it was why she’d waited in the cold hall for Thranduil and Kili and Tauriel to return from their tour after she’d been dismissed. She’d be a proper hostess, as she would have done had she been back home in the Shire, and offer them refreshments on their return.

Her gut had clenched inside her when she’d seen Thranduil coming back alone but her smile had never wavered. Thranduil been mildly surprised to find Kili and Tauriel not immediately behind him but hadn’t been overly concerned, heading off to find the rest of his contingent without another thought.

But Bilba, because she was a fool had headed down the corridor to see if Kili needed anything.

Well, that was the excuse she gave herself anyway.

She’d come to a dead halt as she’d started to round a corner and caught sight of them, standing far closer than was appropriate, her head lowered toward his.

“You’ve more than satisfied your honor. How long until you look to satisfy your heart?

Bilba hadn’t waited to hear Kili’s response. She’d backed away, nearly stumbling in her haste, and had left the tunnel.

She hadn’t thought that Tauriel would go that far. Yes, the woman made a habit of showing up whenever she could and was always hanging around Kili but to actually go to that extent, to confess her feelings to him and encourage him to abandon his own wife, Bilba hadn’t expected that.

Of course, it wasn’t as if Tauriel had said anything Bilba hadn’t thought herself.  The thought that Kili could change his mind, decide love trumped honor and set her aside in favor of Tauriel. But the notion blame for it might be placed on her…or the mere thought that he might consider trying to separate her from her baby…

She wrapped her arms around her stomach and felt a flash of anger run through her. Her emotions were all over the place nowadays, happy one second, sad the next and anger the moment after. For the moment it was anger. She’d done her best, how dare Tauriel?

“Do you want me to escort you to your room?” Fili asked suddenly. “I can--”

“I don’t want to go to my room!” Bilba said sharply, cutting him off. A few passing nobles gave her startled, and somewhat censuring looks, and she tore her gaze away, her face burning with shame. Good job, Bilba, she thought bitterly. No wonder everyone wants you out of sight all the time. Honestly, it seemed like that was all anyone said to her anymore and, maybe, possibly, they meant it innocently and were genuinely concerned but every time their lips spoke one thing, her ears heard something else entirely.

Leave.

We don’t want you here.

Out of sight, out of mind.

 Go.

 Away.

 She wasn’t going to cry. Not in the middle of the damn hall in front of Fili and whoever else happened by. She put a hand on the bench and grimaced, struggling to push herself up. Fili jumped to his feet and grabbed her arm to help her.

“I am going to take a walk,” she said, once she was up. She kept her face turned firmly away from him and tried to control the waver in her voice. “You don’t need to go with me,” she added, anticipating his response. “I’m sure you have other duties to attend to.”

“Bilba.” There was pity in his voice. She’d always hated pity. Not trusting herself to speak she simply shook her head and headed off down the hall. Fili didn’t follow but she could imagine him standing in the hall behind her, watching. No doubt word would get back to Kili of her near breakdown in the hall and he would have yet one more reason to be disappointed in her.

One more excuse to justify sending her away as soon as the baby was born.

She reached out and rested a hand lightly on the wall, tracing her fingers along the stone as she walked.

The restoration was going faster than she’d have thought possible. Smaug, as it turned out, hadn’t done as much damage as originally thought. He’d gone in a straight line from the front gates to the Treasury and back again when he chose to leave. Aside from the gates needing repair and the corridors the dragon had passed through, the rest was simply a manner of cleaning and setting things back to rights.

Dwarves had begun streaming in from the Blue Mountains in a ridiculously short amount of time. Thorin had sent word via raven and they had come to the mountain in droves, racing to beat the rapidly deepening winter.

If Bilba had possessed an ounce of intelligence she would have done the same, in the opposite direction. Back to the Shire where…well, she knew the sort of welcome she’d have received there. Running off with a dozen males and returning unwed and very pregnant? Still, at the very least she could have lasted the winter in her home and then made preparations to leave in spring, perhaps to Rivendell or Gondor even.

If only she’d gone when she’d still had a chance.

If only.

 ***

 She ended up in the Treasury. Probably not a great idea considering the rumors of her apparent gold lust but it was the one place she was guaranteed to be left alone.

Unlike the rest of Erebor, the Treasury had sustained heavy damage. Not just in the treasure itself being scattered about but in broken and damaged columns, all of which would need to be repaired, the ceiling above them shored up once more before any thought could be given to sorting the mounds of gold and gems.

The guards were not at their posts but were just around the corner, crouched down over a game of cards spread out on the floor. Neither noticed as Bilba entered the Treasury.

Coins clattered under foot as she moved through the massive room. Thorin had ordered paths to be cleared through the treasure allowing access to various areas and she trailed along them, able to appreciate it now that there wasn’t a dragon lounging about.

It was silent, almost oppressively so.

She found her way to the stairs leading to the passageway out of the mountain. It felt like only yesterday she’d crept along, fear choking her at the thought of having to face Smaug.

Her hand went to her stomach. She’d been expecting then but hadn’t known it and would continue in that vein for another two months. Long enough for the dwarves to convince her it was too late to make the journey home and to remain in Erebor until spring.

Fool that she was, she’d agreed, never realizing until too late how utterly the decision would damn her. For not the first, or second or third, time she cursed that night in Lake-town. The end of their quest in sight, the Company had let loose and thrown a party. A party with enough alcohol to render every last one of them good and utterly drunk, well past the point of inhibition and common sense. A party where Bilba should have quietly refused all drink and retired to her bed like a proper, respectable Hobbit.

Could have, would have, should have.

Didn’t.

The end of the passage loomed ahead of her and she went and pressed her hands against it. There was a low, deep rumble and the rock obediently moved, sliding outward. Bright sunlight washed over her and Bilba sighed in relief, calm and peace washing over her.

She finished shoving the door open and stepped out onto the large shelf jutting from the side of the mountain.

It was a beautiful summer day, well past the time she would have left had things gone differently. A warm sun shone merrily down and a light breeze rustled the distant tree line. The land had already began to come back to life and a thick carpet of emerald grass spread out along the valley floor below.

Bilba went and awkwardly managed to sit and settle herself against a spot where the wall jutted out and curved, creating a natural alcove that protected her but didn’t obstruct her view.

She leaned back, allowing the rock to take her weight, and listened to the quiet sound of the wind and the chatter of birds.

She closed her eyes and tried to pretend she was back home in the Shire and had never left at all. Never ran off into the wild with a bunch of strangers, a fact which, in retrospect had probably done little for her reputation or good name; had never literally bearded a dragon in its den and, above all else, had never made an idiotic decision that had resulted in her marrying someone hopelessly in love with someone else.

The baby moved and she wrapped her arms around her stomach. A few tears pushed out of her eyes against her will and she angrily swiped them away before returning her arms to their original position. Kili wasn’t sending her away without her baby, she decided. If she couldn’t go back to Hobbiton with her child then she wasn’t going. She doubted Kili would press the issue but if he tried she’d take her suit to Thorin if she had to. Kili could set her aside but he wasn’t taking her child from her. Tauriel could just deal with it.

At least there was one good thing to come out of this mess and that was she had no doubt Kili would be a good father. He might not be in love with her, might even be considering putting her aside at some point, but he’d never wavered in his excitement over the baby.  

Maybe she would never be entirely accepted, or loved, or happy.

But her baby would be loved, and happy, of that she was sure.  

It would be enough.

It would have to be.

***

“Figured I’d find you here, lazing about while half of Erebor goes mad looking for you.”

The words permeated her mind and Bilba tensed, even still half asleep. The air around her had cooled considerably and she recognized the tale tell stiffness in her body that suggested she’d been asleep a long time, and not in a particularly comfortable position.

She opened her eyes to fading light, the sun rapidly falling toward the horizon. Between her and it, as she’d feared, stood Tauriel, arms crossed across her chest and staring at her with a very clear look of disdain.

“I feel asleep,” Bilba said, guarded.

“As I said,” Tauriel sniped, “no surprise. I wouldn’t expect you to have concern for anyone but yourself.”

Bilba paused in the act of starting to push herself to her feet, frowning up at the other woman. Tauriel wasn’t usually so openly hostile toward her. There were the occasional looks, the snide remarks or insinuations but nothing like this. Usually she was far too busy trying to be inappropriately close with Kili to bother with Bilba.

Grabbing an outcropping of rock, Bilba struggled to get to her feet. Tauriel made no effort to help, simply watched her.

When she’d finally gotten up she got a closer look at Tauriel’s face and paused again, this time in surprise. The light was fading rapidly but wasn’t yet gone enough to hide the redness to the other woman’s eyes or the stiff way she held herself.

“Are you alright?” Bilba asked in surprise.

Tauriel’s eyes narrowed. “I’m fine,” she said shortly.

“The mountain is looking for me?” Bilba asked suddenly, keying into what the woman had said. The slightest bloom of hope rose in her, only to be quickly crushed by Tauriel’s next word.

“It’s not as if they have a choice,” she said, her voice acidic. “If they didn’t look for the pregnant interloper it’d be quite the scandal wouldn’t it? Appearances must be kept up.”

Bilba flinched. “Well, in that case,” she said quietly, “I suppose I should go let them know I’m alright.”

She turned her back on the other woman, refusing to be drawn into a petty squabble. She headed into the tunnel, hearing the scrape of Tauriel’s boots behind her as she followed. They walked in silence back into the Treasury where Bilba made her way down the stairs and to the paths leading through the Treasury itself.

“Why him?”

“What?” Bilba stopped and turned to see Tauriel standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at him. “Why who?”

“You know who,” Tauriel said, her teeth clenched so the words came out in a near growl. “You go and get drunk and you’re facing a dozen equally drunk dwarves. Why is Kili the one you ended up with? Of everyone there, why him?”

“I don’t know,” Bilba said.

“That’s a lie.” Tauriel headed down the stairs until she was only a step or two above Bilba. “You had feelings for him.” She said it as a statement. “Before he even met me. He wasn’t interested though so when you saw your chance to trap him, you took it.”

Bilba’s mouth fell open even as her face flushed. Tauriel couldn’t possibly know – no one did. She’d been so careful to hide anything she might have felt…or at least she thought she’d been careful.

“You’re assuming I somehow made myself get pregnant after only one encounter with him,” she said, her face heating at speaking about something so private. “Which, I can assure you, I did not. Kili isn’t the only one affected by this,” her voice rose, her blood starting to boil for the first time. Why was it everyone treated Kili as the victim and her as some sort of temptress who’d gotten exactly what she wanted? “I had to give up my home,” her voice cracked and she took a deep breath and clenched her fists, “and my people and land all so I could live here, married to someone who doesn’t love me, with a people who say awful things about me, where I have to spend my time watching you shamelessly throw yourself at my husband every chance you get.”

She took a deep breath, nearly shaking with anger, not just at Tauriel for once, but at Kili. He’d married her because it was the honorable thing to do but then did nothing about the rumors, or about Tauriel. “As for any…feelings I may or may not have had toward Kili at any point on the quest--” A jolt of the heart every time he looked at her, a racing pulse, crushing pain every time he looked right through her, pain that, as much as she believed impossible, had grown worse after he’d met Tauriel… “I would never seek to trap Kili.” Here the first tears made their way out and she cursed showing weakness in front of the other woman. “Kili wasn’t a helpless victim. We both made a mistake and we’re both paying for it. No matter what I did or did not feel for him,” Past tense, make it past tense, “I would never have deliberately sought to hurt him.”

Never. She loved him far too much for that.

Damn it all.

Tauriel was staring at her, her face expressionless.

Bilba turned her back on the other woman and started walking again. She was shaking and her breath was hitching in a way that suggested she was quite close to breaking down entirely. She had a horrible image suddenly of Tauriel reporting her to Kili and he, in turn, getting angry at his unwanted wife taking it into her head to mistreat his mistress.

Near mistress anyway. She had no evidence Kili had actually crossed any boundaries with Tauriel but he hadn’t exactly gone to any great lengths to set any either.

Her mind went back to the words she’d overheard in the tunnel and she felt a new flash of anger. The mountain might treat Kili like a victim but Bilba had been the one acting like one. Maybe it was time for that to change. She’d kept silent, kept out of the way, hoped the way people treated her would change but it wasn’t. If Tauriel’s outburst was any indication, it was getting worse.

So maybe it was time she started demanding a change. She doubted Kili would approve and part of her feared he would hate her for it.

But the other part of her, the one she usually tried to ignore, quietly acknowledged he probably already did.

She couldn’t hear Tauriel behind her anymore. She stopped and turned, only to see the path behind her empty. “Tauriel?”

A noise caught her attention off to her left, coins sliding and clinking. Bilba moved over and caught sight of Tauriel just as she vanished over a mound of treasure. “What are you doing? It isn’t safe over there.”

The area was one where Smaug had knocked over a pillar. They weren’t just there for decoration, they shored up the ceiling overhead...

[red-riding]

Sleeping Prince?: Potion Prompt

Im so excited! This is the first day of the 13 days of spooky writing event created by @dumbassunderthemountain​. The prompt for today was potion so I took inspiration from that plus the tale of sleeping beauty with a twist. I tried to switch the classic gender roles in the fairytale and remove all the creepy issues with consent the story deals with. I hope y'all don't mind all the Thranduil content I have been doing lately, Im not sure what's up with that. Just feel inspired ig ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You worked as a personal made to Prince Thranduil of Mirkwood. Your job was hard, but it payed well and helped you support your family. Your favorite and least favorite part of the job was the prince himself. On one hand, you found his presence enchanting and on the other it stung your heart to be around him. You see you fell in love with the prince, despite knowing it was impossible to be loved back. You were a commoner after all, and he was royalty. Despite this fact the prince and you shared many conversations together while you were cleaning his room. Everyone of these conversations made you just fall deeper and deeper in love with Thranduil; Little did you know the same was happening to him. 

On one particular night, you and many other servants were serving dinner for the royal family. You listened to King Orphoer and his wife argue back and fourth about potential royal matches for their son. You could see Thranduil zoning of as his parents rambled on about eligible princes of other elven kingdoms. It hurt you to listen but you kept a stone face as you poured the queen a glass of wine. Another servant did the same for the king and prince. Too busy with arguing the King and Queen did not take a spit of wine, however the bored prince did, hoping to realize some of his stresses. 

A minute too late a guard frantically rushed into the dinning room interrupting the king and queens squabble. 

“What is the meaning of this sudden interruption!” The King barked at the guard.

“My King forgive me, But I had no choice! The wine is poisoned. An enemy the kingdom tainted the wine with a potion!” The guard panted out.

“Poison, find who did this so I can-” Oropher roared only to be cut off by a thump caused by Thranduil fainting back into his chair causing it to sway backwards and tip over. 

The queen immediately rushed to her son along with myself and other servants to help bring the chair back up and try to wake the prince.

“My son, he drank the wine. Is he dead? Please someone save him” The queen pleaded tears forming in her eyes. 

“N-no, miss. Based off what we could figure out its an extremely powerful sleeping potion.. with only one known cure.” The guard nervously elaborated, with worry lacing his voice.

“What is the cure, we must find it as soon as possible” The king demanded.

“It’s umm, not physically tangible.. you see the cure is true loves kiss.” The guard nervously explained.

A Look of shock and panic passed over the kings face at this. We all knew why. Thranduil did not have a true love, how would we save him. 

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

With no possible way to wake their son the king and queen kept him asleep in his bedroom, hoping that a miracle would happen to wake their son.  Despite the prince now being asleep for a month at this point you were still employed to clean his room everyday; ridding it of any dust that may have formed. 

You could not quite say what overcame you whenever you where in there, but it felt as if a supernatural force, a spirt perhaps was pushing you towards the slumbering prince. Maybe it was the spirt of the sleeping prince. You normally never obeyed the pull, but today either your will was weaker or the spirt was stronger.

You let yourself be pulled to stand besides the bed the prince laid on. As you looked down at the face you had grown to love and missed a thought what whispered into your mind; Kiss him. It felt almost as if the same spirt dragging you towards the price planted that thought into your mind. You thought the idea over, no one would ever know if you did and maybe, just maybe it would wake him. The idea of you a peasant being his love seems absurd but you could hope you were wrong. 

Giving into the spirts request you leaned down to place a soft kiss onto the sleeping princes lips with a pink face. When your lips touched his it felt as if sparks formed. You pulled away, hopeful eyes watching the prince. After about a minute and Thranduil showing no sighs of waking you gave up and returned to your chores. 

You began dusting off a wardrobe only to hear a groan and ruffling of sheets behind you. You looked behind you to be overwhelmed with shock and happiness; Thranduil had woken up. You ran to the prince and hugged him, not caring if you would be punished or possibly killed. 

Thranduil chucked as he wrapped his arms around you. “Took you long enough, I thought you would never kiss me.” Thranduil teased being his usual playful self as if nothing happened. 

“Took me long enough- wait! You were the spirt I kept feeling.” You exclaimed. Thranduil nodded his head a grin on his face. “Does that mean.. you love me?” You asked putting the pieces together. Thranduil nodded his head again watching you with amused eyes as you starred at him in shock.

“I think since you took so long, you owe me another kiss  would’t you say.” The prince teased causing your cheeks to be tainted pink. Before you could think of a response Thranduil pulled you into a love filled kiss. 

Soon you both pulled away In need of air both flaunting love sick grins. “Now can we get some water? You have no idea how thirsty I am, I mean its been a month.” Thranduil joked. 

“Sure. lets just hope there is no potion in it this time.” You joked while giggling.