#lasgalen writes

[trenarnolegolaslasgalen]

Chapter I: Prince of Mirkwood (Pt. I)

The waters were peaceful just as the lore of ages say they were. I could see we were still days from the everlasting twilight of Aman, but I knew in my heart that once we made it there, I would see my family once more. I watched as the four elves on board spoke with quietly amongst themselves. We were the last of our kin to sail to Eldamar. The presence of a Prince from the House of Durin did not seem unusual to them after all that had happened.

As Gimli slept by the bow, I could not help to find myself thinking about the past. I would miss my home and all that I had left behind in Arda. The world I had once called home had changed. The moment I saw Aragorn crowned king of Arnor and Gondor, I could feel a change in the air. After everything the Fellowship had accomplished, I knew that I would become little more than myth; legend at best. With the sealing of Aglarond, the Dwarves joined the Elves’ fate in a world we helped to create.

As the waves of the sea carried us toward the Undying Lands, I watched the final vestiges of Arda fade into mists of time. The land where I was born would become a memory I would remember forever in quiet disbelief with a curious longing. My adventure was coming to an end, even as my life would go on forever. In that world, I began life as the son of Thranduil, the Elvenking of the Woodland Realm known for most of my childhood as Mirkwood. I was on my last journey from which I would never return. Who would I become beyond the shores of Arda?

**** **** **** ****

I came into this world in Eryn Galen as Legolas Lasgalen Thranduillion in the month of Lótessë in the forty-first year of the Third Age. My mother was Queen Êlúriel Nenluin, a Nandorin from the lost land of Ossiriand. She died when I was still a elfling, but I remember that she was beautiful and kind. Before I was conceived, my parents took in Târthon, the son of my father’s best friend Melros. After he perished at Dagorlad during the War of the Last Alliance, his wife Árendil could not bear her grief and sailed to the Undying Lands leaving her son in their care. When I was old enough to understand, I was sad for Târthon but glad to have a brother.

My grandfather Oropher had died in the same battle that took Târthon’s father, but my grandmother Nimeithel was there to see me come into the world before she left for Aman with my mother’s father Nendúril. It would be the beginning of darkness for the Elves of Eryn Galen.--J.M.M ❁

© 2015. The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy—Book III: The Last Tale of Legolas Lasgalen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. All Rights Reserved.

[teawithmadalice]

THE DRAGONS DAUGHTER

Thranduil X OC! Daughter • CHAPTER 3

SUMMARY: Thranduil lost his beloved daughter 500 years ago, on his search for the white gems of Lasgalen- his wife's final gift to him, he finds a young elf who reminds him of his lost daughter.

Or An intruder breaks into Erebor and meets a peculiar She-elf.

WC: 1.3K

CHAP 2 • CHAP 3 (YOU ARE HERE) • CHAP 4

Many people find silence unnerving, but the young elfling had spent so long in it, the cold embrace of quiet was her only friend.

One thing any mortal must know about dragons, the ferocious, fire breathing, mountain dwelling beasts is that they sleep. They sleep for years upon years, waking up once their hunger had become so ravenous they wake and breathe fire and eat all whom cross their path, stealing any wealth or earthly possessions the victims leave behind, bringing them to their lair and sleeping amongst the fallens possessions.

For about 150 years after the fated day when Aewneth was placed at the mouth of Erebor, Smaug stayed awake, he taught the girl how to speak, read and raised her as his own flesh and blood, she was odd, even for the dragon, who has seen every type of mortal and immortal that has ever inhabited the lands of middle earth.

It had been 60 years since her father last awoke, Aewneth spent her time painting, weaving delicate embroidery, reading, writing, shifting through the hoard. It was repetitive, yes, but it was her routine. A quiet, methodic, systematic routine.

It was dusk when she heard the soft pitter patter of little, light footsteps that echoes through the maze of mines and rocky tunnels.

Interesting.

•••••••••

Bilbo Baggins wasn't a burglar. Maybe he could steal a sword off an orc or some food from a fellow traveler, but breaking into a fallen kingdom, stealing an ancient jewel from under a sleeping dragons nose and getting out unnoticed? Definitely above his pay grade.

But a Baggins will always stay true to his word, he promised the dwarves a burglar, and a burglar he will be. 

His breath was steady as he moved through the dark passageways leading into Erebor, the rest of the company would wait on the cliff side for Bilbo's return- or the sound of a fire breathing dragon waking up incredibly agitated from his 60 year long slumber.

His heartbeat hammered harder in every step he took closer to the horde- he fidgeted with the ring in his hands, just one foot in front of the other, one foot in fr-

"You are not supposed to be here." 

A soft voice spoke from behind the Hobbit, he jumped, dropping the ring with a clatter onto the stone floor, the noise echoing throughout the tunnels.

An elf stood behind him, her head was ducked slightly, the Dwarven halls of Erebor were seemingly not built for someone of her height. She wore a silver gown, with hand embroidered flowers at the scooped neckline, her hair flowed in golden waves down her back, silver rings and jewelry were intricately braided into her hair. He stammered to find his words, why would a she-elf be here, in the unlit halls of Erebor?

"Who are you?" She continued, not waiting for a response, voice still soft. Bilbo could not detect any malice or threat in her voice, she spoke softly, kindly, it was odd- why on earth is she here? she could hardly be on a mission, she wasn't dressed in armour, had no weapons on her person either.

"I'm Bilbo Baggins, from Bag-end." He smiled awkwardly, shuffling from one foot to the other, her stare was unsettling, the ice blue of her eyes pierced into his soul, she looked like one of the wood elves he had the misfortune of getting on the wrong side of. The mere thought of beer barrels made his skin crawl even now.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Bilbo Baggins from Bag-end. May I inquire why you are here? it is every dangerous, you know. A dragon lives amongst these walls" The elf tilted her head.

"I could ask you the same thing my Lady" he smiled, a charismatic laugh falling from his lips as he tried to ease the tension and the ever present thumping of his heart.

"I suppose you are right." And with a soft sigh she continued.

"I live here." She smiled, looking down at the Hobbit, "I've lived in these halls all my life, almost... 500 years now I believe."

She hummed absent-mindedly, eyes beginning to wonder towards the unlit torches on the wall, seeming to contemplate her next actions as she made no attempt to conceal her facial expressions. 

"How about I make us supper and we talk about why you have chosen to come here, you are no dwarf and have no blood ties to this fallen kingdom. You intrigue me. And if we are being completely transparent, ive never had company before."

"Of course my lady", his heartbeat thumps in his ears. Great. This has just become 10 times more difficult. Not only did he have to stealth a dragon, now he has to sneak past a young elfling with incredible hearing and fast reflexes.

Amazing.

She turned around, after gesturing the halfling to follow her, navigating effortlessly through the maze of tunnels, the soft fabric of her dress flowing behind her as she strides with purpose.

The ring in Bilbo's hands became heavier as he followed suit, as much as a home cooked meal seemed appealing after months away in the wilderness far from the shire, it would not get the arkenstone any closer to being in his possession. With a shaky breath and nimble hands, Bilbo slipped the golden band onto his forefinger, the familiar blur of invisibility invaded his vision, every motion swirled in patterns.

He continued to follow the oblivious she elf, though he created a bit more distance and stayed light on his feet, praying to every spirit in middle earth that the fall of his footsteps would not be loud enough to be noticed.

But Bilbo Baggins was playing the role of a burglar, he had been ever since he signed that contract back in Bag-end, and he mustn't let his company down, he will get the arkenstone, deliver it to Thorin Oakenshield and free his dwarf friends home from the tightened grasp of Smaug.

He must.

A soft white glow emitted from his peripheral vision, the maze of tunnels finally came to a close, here he could make a run for it, find the treasure and flee without any one knowing what happened.

Of course Bilbo knew that would be wishful thinking, but even he was bewildered once the labyrinth of corridors came to an end and he stared down at the heaps and piles of gold, finding a single white gem in the sea of treasure was almost impossible, and certainly would take longer than one night, the door into the mountain would close and he would be trapped. The fact that there was a sleeping dragons beneath said gold, a young elf with hearing as sharp as nails, and the fact that the only description of the gem he seeked was that it was "white" and that he would "know it when he saw it", only added to the inevitable failure of this mission.

A burglar Bilbo could be, a miracle worker? Not so much.

Bilbo spared a look behind him at the young she elf, she looked around bemused and bewildered,

"A disappearing halfling... How strange." She pondered quietly, eyes flickering around the great hall.

"Perhaps I imagined him" she hummed, turning on her heel and leaving back into the tunnels, going to God knows where. Bilbo thanked the elves eccentric nature in his head, before turning his gaze back onto the hoard.

Time to get to work.

••••••

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[clarakiki]

The spring revel

Thranduil x reader

Summary: Spring has come upon the Elvenking's realm and you know exactly how to celebrate it.

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Warnings: afab reader, no use of Y/N, mentions of alcohol and the reader and Thranduil being drunk, explicit smut, children (? not yours just yeah, they're there)

Notes: Hello my loves <3. Coming back to you with many firsts in this fic. It is my first time writing for Thranduil (I have a Lotr phase and can't get him out of my head) and my first time writing smut. So please excuse if it's not that great, I will get better I promise. I appreciate your comments and kudos and I hope you'll enjoy <3

You dance under the trees.

The air is warm and sweet, the torches glow with golden fire and the wine is flowing freely. The lush green canopy hides the night sky above, making it feel like you are in a great hall. 

The spring revel has come upon Eryn Lasgalen, and you are drunk and happy and free. Your bare feet feel the soft grass and cool rock and your short dress sticks to your body while you dance around the hill. 

Other elves twirl and jump around you, they take your hands and laugh with you. Tonight the line between monarch and subject blurs. The lively music of pipes and flutes makes your head spin. 

At the head of a great carved table, which bends under the weight of fruit and soft bread and carafes of deep red wine, sits your husband, The Elvenking, and for once he seems to be enjoying himself. Upon his regal brow rests a crown of flowers and leaves and his lips are curled into a smile. His wine cup is never empty.

Perhaps that is the reason he lets the group of elf children prance around him. Some are singing to the music and dance around happily, some climb on his lap and look up at him with their big bright eyes. One child has dared to touch his crown and braid his hair. For once he lets them, for tonight is a time of celebration for everyone, both a king and a child.

The round ends and you can finally go rest for a moment. Your spent legs carry you towards your own throne, one set next to your husbands. It is a beautiful thing, spun from intertwining branches and adorned with carved writing. Budding blooms decorate the headrest.

With a sigh you plop yourself, rather ungracefully, into your seat. Before your husband can get a word out, the child sitting upon his lap starts: “Please my lady, come and dance with us.” The little boy pleads and others join him.

“Did you not ask your king to dance with you?” you ask, teasing them a little, for you know the answer. 

A choir of intermingling voices answers you, one over the other accusing their Elvenking of refusing them. You laugh quietly at their distress and at your husband's tired sigh. “Alright, dear children, I promise I will come and dance with you. But you have to promise me, to ask your mothers first and then to go to bed on time.” 

The little faces light up and soon they are all scrambling to find their parents. 

“You saved me, my love,” Thranduil laughs, a rare sight. “How was your dance? You seem already spent.” You know he is only joking and you decide to retaliate.

“Oh, it was wonderful,” you exaggerate. “It would be better, however, if a certain elf joined me for the next song?” It is meant only as a jest but he surprises you with his answer.

“Be good to me and I just might,” he voice is low and rich and it does things to you.

“Are you too deep in your cups, or are you teasing me?”

“Believe me, I know how to hold my liquor and I am totally serious,” he smirks and drinks from his cup. You want to kiss the smug look off of his face. You might just do that later tonight. No, you will.

“I shall hold you to that promise.”

“I have never doubted that, dearest, however I believe you already have a different partner for the next round.” He points towards the crowd and suddenly the elf children come running back to you.

You stand up, grab the chalice from Thranduil’s hands and take a deep swig of wine. It is rich and bitter and your face scrunches at the taste. “I will dance with you tonight,”  you warn your husband and let yourself be pulled away by a throng of laughing children.

—

The night has given away into the early hours of morning when you get back to Thranduil. The crowds have thinned, the music slowed and the elf children finally went to sleep.

“My love,” Thranduil says standing up, when he sees you. 

You come together like it’s second nature now. He embraces you around your middle and you hide your face in his chest. He smells sweetly of wine and flowers. You would drown in it if you could. 

He cups your face in his big hands and you look up into those cold cold eyes, warm only for you. “Are you ready to fulfil your promise?” you ask, voice low. 

He smiles at you like he does at no one else and your heart melts at the sight

“My king!” you exclaim drunkenly. “Let us dance around the hill one last time and after that I am ready to go to bed,” mumble the end of the sentence into his shoulder, your eyes already droopy. You feel him shake his head at your antics, but then he swoops down and kisses your forehead. You shiver at the gentle gesture. 

Thranduil, with you half leaning on him, leads you by your hand among the elves. A single lonely flute plays a slow melody, you feel entranced by it. The music and your husband's icy eyes lull you into a sleepy daze. 

You twirl in his arms and reach up to inhale his sweet scent, kissing his white throat. He hums above you and winds you to him even closer.

The air is warm and sweet and spring has come.

—

You are led back to your rooms by your husband, leaning on him, drowsy from both the dancing and the wine. 

You let yourself be lowered on the grand bed and look up at him with droopy eyes. “I want to kiss you,” you do not know if it's the wine giving you this courage or your sleepiness. 

Thranduil smiles at that, and it’s incredibly soft, and obliges you. He tastes like always, rich and full. “I love you,” you mumble into his lips. 

“And I you,” he answers, when he pulls away from you, setting himself gently above your thighs.

You don’t like that he is so far away, so you grab his hips and try to pull him back to you. “Please,” you whine. “Please-.”

“Use your words darling, you know I can’t read your mind,” he tuts above you, while starting to undo the lace on the front of your dress.

“Please touch me, I need you,” the fire is burning in your belly and you feel like you might burn if he doesn’t do something. Anything.

“Let me get you out of this dress first,” he promises and smirks, pleased with himself. His hands are careful, but sure, and soon the silky fabric of the bed covers caresses your skin. 

Then he stands up to undress himself. Reaching to take off his crown, he is a sight, naked, his brow adorned by flowers. Pale smooth skin and ice blue eyes. You swear he’s never been more beautiful than he is now.

“Come here, my love,” you say and he does. He lays over you and kisses you hungerly. You moan into his mouth, tangling your fingers in his silky hair, finding some of the braids the children left there. 

“Let me take care of you, dearest,” Thranduil whispers in your ear and you shiver at the thought. He trails kisses down and down until he reaches your thighs and licks and bites there until you're squirming under him, his strong hands pinning you down by the hips. 

“No more, just touch me,” you whine and pull at his scalp harshly.

To your horror Thranduil stops all together. He pulls himself up, your hands still in his hair. Above you he looks like a mythical being, one you should not have the honour to touch. 

“You have gotten so bold since we met. Commanding you king.”

With his slight smile and a teasing tone he brings you back to earth. “But you love that about me, my king,” you smirk at him.

“That is true, yes, but if I am to comply to you, and truly touch you like you want me to, you shall, let me tease you a little. As a treat,” oh, he sounds so proud, high and mighty. Yes he shall tease you, but you shall repay it tenfold.

With a satisfied smirk on his lips he returns to his task excruciatingly slow. He works you up again, lapping at your thighs, biting the skin there and holding you to the mattress by your waist. So the moment he does, finally tastes you with his tongue, it feels like you're going to burst. Dragon fire burns under your skin, unvanquishable, everlasting. Only he, Thranduil can save you. 

He is savouring your taste, as if it was sweeter than any wine he’s ever tasted. He builds you up to your peak slowly, taking his time, until tears of pleasure sting your eyes. The dam brakes, when you come from his mouth alone. It is deliciously painful.

Thranduil wipes his chin with his hand and lays next to you, circling his arms around you. You kiss him again, tasting yourself on his lips, reaching down to touch him. “Meleth nin,” he moans and you watch as his brows scrunch up and his blue eyes roll in pleasure.

You smile for yourself and kiss his neck, biting and sucking. The white skin goes dark quickly under your lips. In the end you don’t have the heart to deny him, and so you don’t tease him much. Still, he doesn't last long at all, for he was already bursting from eating you out. With a few final strokes he moans loudly and comes in your hand. 

You kiss for a time after that, but you both are too sleepy to continue properly. Thranduil, ever the gentleman, offers himself to go find a towel to clean you with. You would so like to watch him, as he prances around the room in all his glory, but you can’t hold your eyes open. You feel his gentle touches and hear his loving words, but at that you are already half asleep. The last you know is your husband pulling you to his embrace, holding you head to his chest.

You slumber as the dawn breaks.

[errruvande]

Hello! For the drabbles challenge, may I have Elrond (cause I love him so much 🥹) and the word is "necklace"?

Thank you, dear anon for participating in this little challenge 💓

The bright white cristal was shimmering under the hot summer sun of Imladris. Elrond took you with him to the marker to find, what he said, a gift for Arwen, he thought a council of a woman could help him out in picking the best jewelry. You leaned over a long table that was adorned in beautiful jewelries of different kinds: elegant rings with stones, bracelets of gold and silver and oh! A necklace. A necklace of gold, it looked like a ring that circles the neck, with one leaf on each end, from the right side of the ring a small droplet made of nothing else but the white bright gems of Lasgalen was hanging on a tiny twirled string of gold.

“You like this one?” Elrond took the necklace in his hands gently, not to damage the delicate string. You nodded, your pupils blown with amazement. “Can we try it on?” He faced the merchant and after waiting for his nod, he asked you to turn around. “Let me put it on, I want to know how it looks like on the neck.”

You did as you was told, you knew it must be worn to know how it feels and how it looks on a person. So you turned, gathered your loose hair to open the view for Elrond and sighted, already being upset that you'll have to give it back just in a few moments.

Elrond put it on, adjusting the ends with small leaves to make it fit your neck perfectly. The smile adorned his face as he took a step beck, studying you. “It looks perfect.”

“Then Arwen would love it!” You smiled back at him, radiating warmth, since you, as anyone else in Imladris, loved Elrond’s daughter purely.

Elrond chucked softly, not diverting his gaze from your smile. “Actually, my darling Y/N, it's for you”

You froze for a second, not expecting Lord Elrond to give you such a spectacular gift. You knew each other for a small amount of time and yet nothing of his deeds towards you made you think that he was romantically interested.

But is gifting such a beautiful necklace indicating romantic feelings or was it a gift of friendship? Now, you had something to think about.

Send me a word and a character from LOTR/TH, TLK or Vikings and I will try and write a drabble or ficlet ✨

[theoneandonlynikki]

So I commissioned my super cool amazingly talented friend @bigshartie for some fanart, and boy did they deliver!

This lovely lady is Queen Nimross, a character from The Soldier and The King. She's the Queen of Mirkwood, Thranduil's wife and Legolas and Tauriel's mother (twins in this AU). I realized I haven't posted a snippet with her in it yet, so here's a little bit about her:

Nimross (which means "white foam" in Sindarin) was an ordinary elf who often sang and played the lute on the streets in her hometown. Thranduil heard her performing one day and was enchanted immediately. They fell in love, married and had two children. Nimross was also instrumental in taking down her terrible father-in-law King Oropher. Sadly, she was killed by bandits when her children were 15 and her Jewels of Lasgalen were stolen. Thranduil did eventually recover them, and fell in love again with Bard, but his wife's death left him pretty messed up for a while.

The story takes place about twelve years after Nimross died. She's quickly become one of my favorite OCs (not sure what the term for "fanfiction version of a canon character with little known information" would be, so OC it is.) Will I write a snippet with her? 100%, at some point.

Feel free to make art of Nimross if you want, as this is her official design. And if you want Max to make awesome art like this for you, visit their Instagram @maxipad.mt! Support my friend! Give them all the money and all the commissions! They deserve it!

[tiny-and-witchy]

Okay here we go.. As I promised @entishramblings after this post, I am now here to share my tengwar practice sheets in a little bit more detail. Although, these were initially just for practice so I actually haven't been paying much attention to precision and aesthetics of it.. Well, at least not enough to show them to people in this way so here we go @entishramblings , this is for you!!

(I will be posting this in pieces, I tried to make it into one post, tumblr wouldn't let me so I have to write it all over again, so sorry in advance for all the notifications.)

Here we go:

I started with some well known names of people, elves and places, like Imladris, Galadriel, Glorfindel and so on.. Also there are names of my friends and some half names (I started writing and realised it couldn't fit there) and random letters..

And if we juuust look towards the right side here:

You can see I wrote my name next to Legolas. (I may be not-so-low-key-head-over-heels in love with him..)

And here:

On the left, we see 'Eryn Galen' and 'Eryn Lasgalen', which translates to Greenwood (my baby's homeland how was I supposed to resist). And on the right is 'Celebrimbor', a name again, and 'Mae govannen' which is a phrase of greeting..

[lady-of-imladris]

CHAPTER 11 - I REALLY THOUGHT I LOST YOU

Synopsis: Thranduil lost his Queen. Now they all have to deal with it.

Word count: 2k

Pairings: Thranduil/OC

Warnings: Dealing with loss

Additional stuff: This is a super sad chapter and it took me a very long time to write it. Sorry. BUT. In honour of me finishing my degree, here you have it. There are 4 more chapters coming your way. Maybe there will be smut again.

Link to the chapter overview

That was the night I nearly lost you I really thought I lost you - The Great War (Taylor Swift)

After finding out what had happened, Celebrían did not talk to Elrond for weeks. If he had known it all along, why hadn’t he done something? Celeborn did not talk to Galadriel for months, remaining behind in Lasgalen alone while the Lady and their army returned to Loríen. She had been their daughter. Galadriel could have stopped it all. Why hadn’t she done anything? Thranduil did not speak a single word to either of them for many years. In fact, he barely talked to anyone. He did not leave his chambers for days. Did not eat, did not sleep. The king just laid there all alone in the darkness, his face pressed against the pillow on which his wife’s head had rested just such a short time ago.

Anarríma had been dead for a week when he thought he could not take it any longer. Why her? Why his Anarríma? “You are a cruel God, Ilúvatar,” he cursed amid the tears, “what monster would take a mother away from her child?” Thranduil dragged a hand over his face. Her blood was still all over him. “Take me. I beg you, take me, I cannot live without her.” The king fell to his knees sobbing violently. If the Valar had allowed Beren, a mere mortal, a second chance at life with the one he loved, even at the cost of immortality, why would they not grant it to her? “Bring her back. Take me instead if you must but please. Please. Bring her back.” Soft skin brushed his cheek. “Meleth nin. You know it does not work that way.”

Thranduil’s head whipped around. She stood there, shining like sunlight amidst all his darkness. As she always had, smiling down at him sadly. “Ana,” he whispered almost inaudibly. “Thranduil I need you to promise me something.” He tried to reach for her hand but he could not move. Was this what dying felt like? Had the gods answered his prayers? “Anything my love. Anything.” “You have to take care of Legolas. He needs you. You have to be there for him, you have to raise him and you have to tell him that I loved him. With all my heart I loved him.” Thranduil tried to get up, to go to her, to wipe the tears off her face, but he could not. “I can’t do this without you, Ana,” he confessed. She walked towards the door. “I know. But you have to.”

Thranduil awoke on a sunny morning, curled up on the floor. The pain in his entire body had dulled somehow. He sighed. The gods would not let him go to her. She would not let him go to her. ‘Fine, I will play your game,’ he thought to himself and rose from the ground with a loud sigh. He dragged himself to the bathroom daring a glimpse in the mirror. He had never looked worse. Thranduil could not possibly face anyone in that condition. He bathed. He washed his hair. He got dressed. His guards immediately stood at attention, startled by their king’s sudden appearance outside of his chambers catching them by surprise. Thranduil did not know where Legolas was or who was with him, having closed himself off from the entire world for over a week, but he knew that he would find him. And he did.

Celeborn was cutting up a slice of bread with butter into smaller pieces for the little Prince in the garden whilst Legolas was running around barefoot on the grass trying to catch a butterfly. Thranduil said nothing. He just sat down next to his father in law, who offered him a chunk of bread. Thranduil took it. “Is she still here?” Celeborn shook his head. “She returned home with her army.” “Her army?” Celeborn huffed a laugh. “I don’t know if there is an ‘us’ anymore after what happened.” Thranduil reluctantly ate the bread.

When Legolas noticed his father he ran up to him immediately. “Ada!” he jumped into his father’s arms so forcefully he knocked them both to the ground. Thranduil landed in the grass, Legolas on top of him, holding on to his father as much as his little hands allowed. “Ada I missed you,” he said. Thranduil choked back the tears. He had failed his son. ‘Forgive me, Ana. I will try to be better,’ he thought to himself. “I am sorry my little leaf, I was not feeling well. But I am here now and I promise I am not going away again.” The King of the Greenwood sat down next to Celeborn again, Legolas still in his arms. “Were you not feeling well because of Nana?”

Thranduil was glad his son could not see his face at that moment. He looked over at Celeborn, helpless. His father in law did not look much better than he probably did, swollen red eyes and a deep sadness that would never really go away. How had he managed it? How had he been able to care for Legolas amidst all this grief when Thranduil had not even managed to sleep? ‘You don’t get to lie to him,’ his eyes seemed to say, and Thranduil agreed. He owed it to his son. To his wife. To Celeborn. “Yes little leaf. Because of her.” “I miss her too, Ada. So much. But she will come back to us! Grandfather said she could!”

“She will be free to return to us,” Celeborn took over, “one day. But that day is still far in the future, Legolas. Your mother fought very bravely and now she needs time to heal. It will take many centuries until she is well enough to leave the Halls of Mandos. The next time you see her, you will be all grown up.” “But that is too long!” Legolas complained. “Why can we not visit her in the Halls of Mandos?” Thranduil tried to fight against the tears in his eyes. A battle he lost. “My little leaf, that is simply not possible. We have a duty to our people. I am their King and you are their Prince. Even if we were able to reach the Halls, we could never leave this place.”

Thranduil would remember little of this conversation and those days of grief in later years. But he would never forget what Celeborn had done for him. Would never forget his own failure. From that day on, no matter how great the pain, he pushed through. For his son. For his people. For her. If she returned from the Halls of Mandos one day, tens of thousands of years in the future, how could he possibly face her? He went to Celeborn one day and said to him “it does not matter what she did. She is your wife and you love her. Cherish the time you have together.”

The night before he was supposed to leave Lasgalen, Celeborn slept fitfully. He was anxious about his reunion with Galadriel. The Lord of Loríen did not know how he would react to seeing her again. A flickering light in the corner of his eye woke him up in the middle of the night. She was sitting on the bed with him. He could feel the weight of her hands in his. Celeborn stared at his daughter in disbelief. “Hello Ada.” She smiled softly. “Anarinya? What are you doing here?” Celeborn wanted to sit up, to hold his daughter in his arms once more, but he could not. “I have come to thank you for taking care of my son. And to say goodbye.” She squeezed his hand tightly. “Anarinya how is this possible? How are you here?”

A playful smile crossed her face. He remembered that smile. He had not seen it in a long time. “Let’s just say the Valar now know who they are dealing with.” “I don’t understand,” Celeborn looked at her in bewilderment. “I will explain it to you one day. Give it a few thousand years, Ada.” “Anarinya what are you talking about?” How could she know the future? She rose from the bed and kissed him on the cheek. “We will meet again, I promise. Please try to forgive Ammë, she had no choice. Goodbye Ada, I will miss you.” He tried to catch her hand, stop her from walking away but he could not move. “Anarinya?” he called after her as she walked towards the door. She stopped and turned. “Will it be worth it?” The Queen of Lasgalen did not answer his question. “Things are now in motion that cannot be undone,” she said solemnly and disappeared.

“Legolas.” A whisper, nothing more. The little Prince stirred in his sleep. “I love you so much my little leaf. I will love you until the stars go dark and the ruins of Numenor rise from the seas.” The woman bent down to kiss the little boy’s forehead. “Your path will not be an easy one, Legolas. But I promise, it will all be worth it in the end. Namarië my little leaf. Namarië.”

several centuries later

“Legolas!” Thranduil called from the balcony. The young elf walked hastily towards his father. “A beautiful night, Ada, is it not? The stars have not been so bright in quite some time.” He was right, they seemed to shine twice as bright tonight and there were no clouds in the sky. “Especially those over there,” the Prince continued, “what constellation is that, Ada?” Thranduil followed the direction his son was pointing in. He downed the remainder of his wine before answering his son. “Anarríma.”

Legolas squinted his eyes in thought. “That name,” he mused, “I think I have heard it before. It sounds so familiar but I can’t quite place it.” Thranduil looked at his son. The older Legolas got, the more his hair turned from the silvery blond he got from his father, into the warm golden locks of his mother. He had her eyes too. A constant reminder to Thranduil that he had failed to protect his wife. She had been a formidable fighter, but ultimately not good enough. Thranduil turned to leave the balcony. “I expect you to attend your archery training tomorrow morning. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Good night, Ada.” Legolas stayed there, leaning against the wall staring up into the sky. Thranduil turned his gaze once more toward his son, who was deep in thought trying to remember. How could something be so familiar and yet so distant? Anarríma felt like destiny. Like comfort. And yet every time he reached for it, it was gone. Replaced by a seemingly infinite darkness he did not dare touch. Thranduil sighed. It broke his heart to see him like this. He had made the decision a long time ago. Try to forget, so Legolas would not miss his mother so much. Maybe he had been wrong? “Legolas,” he called out once more, “she was your mother.”

It came back to him then. Falling asleep in his mother’s arms, his head tucked under her chin. Chasing her through a meadow with flowers so bright it seemed unnatural, her laughter. And how much she loved him. Until the stars go dark and the ruins of Numenor rise from the seas.

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[scary-grace]

25 26 and 28 for Kairos for the writers' ask!!

25) Share your favorite line

It's mean to make me do this from a 565,000-word fic lol. But this is a piece of description I'm proud of from Chapter 12:

Thranduil wasn’t paying attention on the drive from town to Eryn Lasgalen. As a result, nothing on the road looks familiar. Not the trees, in full leaf and towering up against the blue sky; not the stone walls, mossed over and almost hidden in the grass along the edges of the road; not the curves where the trees arch up and over the road and the long straightaways bounded by fields on either side. The sun is high and bright. When Thranduil leans out the window and looks up, he can see birds swooping and wheeling in the sky, and all the while Bard sings.

26) Share your favorite detail

My favorite detail(s) are probably all the New Hampshire/New England things I've tried to wedge into the story. I've only been there once, in the summer, but it made a really strong impression, and I put a lot of research into the flora and fauna that would be present in the story, as well as the climate! I really wanted it to feel alive.

28) Write a new summary for the fic, but badly

Traumatized man, 38, is so desperate to become a local that he moves into the only place on the planet that's guaranteed to make his trauma worse.

Thank you for the ask!

send me a question + a fic

[tathrin]

For the WIP folder game I'd love to hear more about Coming Home Under the Shadows!

Oh no, I completely missed answering this one, I'm sorry! Thank you so much for asking though, I haven't touched that story in ages but I really do love it so!

Anyway, this was the original title for Coming Home Under the Trees before I realized that it didn't make much sense to reference the Shadow, given that the whole point is that the Shadow is now defeated and Mirkwood can start lightening again and become Eryn Lasgalen...but I never changed it on the file title lol.

I'm not sure if you've read that one or not, but short version: it's a largely plotless world-and-character-focused meander of Gimli and Legolas journeying to Mirkwood after the War of the Ring, and Gimli meeting Legolas's friends and family and discovering his Weird AF Forest for the first time and maybe discovering some Feelings along the way shhh.

...and I feel really REALLY bad about the fact that it's currently sitting on a cliff-hanger that was ABSOLUTELY NOT supposed to be a cliff-hanger, but I just can't get the next chapter sorted-out in my head to finish writing and post it, I'm so sorry to everybody who's been waiting for what comes next!

I promise Gimli is FINE.

[brannonlasgalen]

Would you ever print your fic? I know I'd buy it 😆 and it's waaaaaaaay better quality than the other fic prints out there like ye Olde 50 shades

This is the second ask I've gotten referencing that idea, and it is a lovely one. 🥰Unfortunately, printing/binding and selling my fic would be a blatant copyright violation, and Tolkien is DEFINITELY not in the public domain haha. So no joy, I'm afraid.

However, if you go on Ao3 there are both EPUB and PDF download options, which you could import into your eReader (Kindle, app, etc.) Then you can read The Healing of the Elvenking whenever and wherever you'd like! 🤗💚

[brannonlasgalen]

Oh, this is GORGEOUS. Can y'all IMAGINE The Healing of the Elvenking bound like this??😍😍😍

Skin Deep by Epilachna

Thranduil knows better than any that beauty is only skin deep, but what does he believe lies underneath? Early Third Age and beyond.

fic by Epilachna

772 pages / 214,677 words

Title Font: Aniron

Body Fonts: Pilgrim, Cirth Erebor, Better Grade

More on the process below the cut!

Such an epic fic! This is the first and only fic I've done from FF.net, but the commissioner was kind enough to help with pulling the text off the site (FF.net does not make it easy!) It's a big early Third Age fic, featuring Thranduil and an OC that takes on a life of her own as Thranduil's future wife. The sun & moon paper with the graphite duo book cloth is stunning imo, and I modeled the rest of the book after the original LOTR novels. The title page took inspiration from The Hobbit, but the rest was influenced heavily by the trilogy. I dug up the original fonts as well; Pilgrim for the body text, and Cirth Erebor for the title page writings. It also matches the original lettering, which was "The Lord of the Rings translated from the Red Book". This version reads, "Skin Deep translated from FF.Net"

The only difference with this typeset was the inclusion of Aniron, the movie's title font, for the title and drop caps (the original books did not have drop caps; they were not as fashionable during this era of publishing, especially for fantasy novels). Overall, I think it works as a wonderful homage to the source material - and fits Skin Deep right alongside Tolkein's works on a shelf. The commissioner also commissioned a copy for the author, and I do hope you enjoy holding your work in your hands!

[errruvande]

Find the word tag

Thank u again for the tag @lord-aldhelm 💓🥺

I don't know if you supposed to look it up in one fic or a few, I absolutely don't have all of these words in one fic, so it's gonna be a mix of my wips i guess?

Foolish:

This is from my other Alfred x f!Reader (Uhtred's sister yes!!) WIP that I've started back in 2022 (I know wild) but now want to finish.

"You came here with that silly smile of yours, Y/N, i know exactly what you're gonna do. You're gonna do something stupid, very stupid, foolish and dangerous."

Bright:

The next one is from my Elrond drabble for the drabble challenge.

A necklace was of gold, it looked like a ring that circles the neck, with one leaf on each end, from the right side of the ring a small droplet made of nothing else but the white bright gems of Lasgalen was hanging on a tiny twirled string of gold.

Peaceful:

This one is from Finan x Reader (possible multi chaptered) fic

"Lord, ya sure we need to swim?" Finan's voice shranked a little, while he was overlooking the peaceful surface of the river: black in the night, it looked like a bottomless pit that would lead you straight to Hell. He gulped. "Lord..."

Froze (aka freezing):

The last one is from my "Of Uhtred Ragnarsson and Young Odda" crack fic I started writing AGAIN back in 2022 (they both should have been posted as a part of TLK after-party but alas, my block came in earlier than I had a chance to finish them and now i'm gonna finish them all)

Alfred drilled him with exhausted stare, even the happiness of the victory over the Danes could not hide his weariness of being someone he never wanted to be, having the duty beyond his capabilities, as he once so deeply believed, so Uhtred failed to seat, freezing in the air before his butt had touched the wood of the chair.

Your words: gentle, fight, bed, warning

No pressure tags: @persephones-journey @ulfrsmal @emilyhufflepufftlk @holy3cake @ladyinred2248 @maybankwrites

[tkwrtnewsfeed]

Newsfeed #113 July 6, 2019 (6 Cermië)

YOUTUBE: Are You Ready for Us?

Yeah, not that it matters–we’re going to go there anyway. We are so busy now that we have to find some way to interact with our readers and answer their questions. Since there are two of us in two different countries and time zones, finessing will be involved (so will casting someone to speak for us when we’re busy and I’m not showcasing the sword fighting I use to choreograph battle scenes).

First off, The House of Durin @thehouseofdurin debuts in the Fall of 2019 so you’ll just have to deal with me and @tkwrtrilogy @tkwrtrilogy2 @tkwrtrilogy3 @trenarnolegolaslasgalen @oflordsandkingstkwrtbook @tkwrtsongofsevenrivers for a while (and all its other parts: @extendedtkwrtrilogyend @tkwrtrilogylasttale)

But wait! There’s MORE! (and, @staff this is a book that kids can read).

You’ll never guess who’s coming to town.

Okay, okay. Lindir isn’t the only “loremaster” in town. Even the Keepers have tales and boy, is it interesting! (If you’re reading Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen @tkwrtrilogy3 right now, one of the first of them is lurking around in Doriath.

Just when 2019 couldn’t get any busier, 2020 is filling up like a rain barrel in a monsoon. Other than the occasional familial disagreement I have, I spend most of my time coming up with ways Thranduil can conquer the world. He already has LinkedIn mesmerized I have no idea how he pulled that one off. I mean he’s actually got “stans” on a business networking site! 😂🤣

Nothing surprises me anymore when it comes to Thranduil. Someone called him my magnum opus today so his opus will be returning in the Winter of 2019.

So, to recap, The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy and The House of Durin will be on YouTube in 2020 (at some point) and you’ll get exclusive looks into Loremasters: Keepers of the Tales and updates on the other books like Book III: The Last Tale of Legolas Lasgalen, The Song of Seven Rivers and Of Lords & Kings.

So, if you were wondering where I’ve been for the past month, well, now you know.

Okay, no. I was writing. But Galadriel just fell in love with Celeborn in Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen. I’m guessing at some point her harrowing tale of crossing the Helcaraxë will come to light. 😎

[brannonlasgalen]

Your writing is magnificent. I wish I could print the healing of the elven king into a book of my own and read it constantly.

Wow, thank you Nonnyelf! What a lovely compliment. 🥰🥰🥰

[iamjaynaemarie]

I asked for it and you got it. Coming Soon (details here: @tkwrtnewsfeed ) because every book series needs a place fans can talk to each other (access to cool stuff because it's more convenient for me).

No, really.

[brannonlasgalen]

Thranduil and Illyrea, anyone?

slow burn mutual pining but the burn is emotional and the fic is pwp. they smut it up while both wanting more and thinking the other one wants to be friends with benefits. having only this much of them is torture but not having them at all would be worse. each of them dreads the day their lover falls in love with someone else. both of them are so surprised to learn they've both been in love with the other the whole time