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thewulf · 1 year ago

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Only You || Legolas

Summary: Request: Can you do a elf reader x Legolas where he's finally home in mirkwood after the quest? Maybe Gimli is with him and he's like 'i see why you always talked about the lassie.' or something funny that exposes Legolas for how much he really likes her. He then confeses and asks to court her or something sweet pleaseee?? My fav fluff writer! Thank u!

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words and sweet as heck request. Really love this one. I didn't edit it too heavily so please be wary of general writing mistakes! Hope you all enjoy my fav elf imagine :)

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.9k +

TW: Pure fluff? No LOTR triggers

You had finally gotten a free evening to yourself after training for the better part of every evening for the last year with your father, Girdirion. He had been training you relentlessly after Legolas had left of the quest his father, King Thranduil, had sent him off on. That was over a year ago. You hadn’t heard much other than they had made it to Minas Tirith a few months ago.

Your father suddenly saw you as defenseless without your longtime friend at your side. Being the kings most trusted advisor, he had been trained for centuries and was a formidable fighter. It wasn’t until after Legolas had left that you had realized how serious the threat to middle earth was. Your father must had realized it too as he worked you to the bone, training you at every chance he could.

It was only after King Thranduil received word that the ring had been destroyed and his son was heading home did things begin to change. Your father still made you train but it wasn’t at every waking moment any longer. Tonight, was one of those nights that he had given you off as he had meetings to attend to with the king.

Time felt too slow as you waited for Legolas to return. He promised he would. You knew he would. He was all the way across middle earth, but you just couldn’t seem to wait any longer. You longed for you best friend, who meant much more to you than just a best friend, to come home.

As soon as you settled on your bed to begin reading the novel you had been meaning to finish there was a quick knock at your door. Who could that be? You weren’t expecting anybody at this hour after dinner. Begrudgingly, you set the book down just as you had gotten comfortable and made your way over to the door.

When you opened the door you scrunched your face in confusion, “Father? What are you doing here? I thought you were meeting with the king?”

He nodded, “I was. Then we got interrupted. There is somebody here I think you may want to see.” His smile let you know exactly what you were thinking. Legolas was home. He was back in Mirkwood after nearly a year and a half away. Sure, it wasn’t that long of a time for you in the scheme of your lifetime but it did feel like the longest year of your nearly two thousand years in middle earth.

“Legolas?” You tore out of your room not waiting for his response as you made your way to the throne room. You heard your fathers deep laughter behind you before he jogged to catch up with your lighter than air pace.

Once he caught up to you he had that knowing smile on his face. He had watched the two of you dance around the obvious feelings each other had. You never thought you were good enough to be with the kings son. He never thought you were interested in that way. But to everybody on the outside looking in it was rather obvious the two of you were destined to be together. Even if it was taking longer than expected. A thousand years longer than expected. See, King Thranduil and your father had agreed they would bless the union between the two of you should it come naturally. But neither had the heart to force it. He and your father knew as good as anybody these things had to find their way on their own, naturally. Even if it drove the two elder Ellon’s mad.

“Indeed, your elf has made it home.” He spoke as the two of you walked, much faster than normal, towards the kings room.

Before you opened the massive wood doors you turned to him with a sly smile and a hint of a blush dotting the apples of your cheeks, “My elf?”

Your father raised his eyebrows at you, “Go on then.” He pushed you forward ignoring your question.

When you pushed open the doors you couldn’t find the familiar blonde hair of your best friend. Even as you walked closer to the throne you looked all around the hall and only spotted King Thranduil who was giving you the same smirk your father just did. What were they up to? Where was Legolas? And why was the king looking at you like he knows something you didn’t?

“I apologize my king.” You bowed unsure of what else to do. When you turned to see if your father had followed you in you were left biting your lip seeing the door closed without him in the room. What was he up to? “My father said…”

Thranduil put his hand up pausing you right in your tracks, “Legolas is out in the gardens with a dwarf. A dwarf!” He sounded more frustrated than excited to his son after the time away.

But you cracked a smile instead. That was so him. He was anything and everything his father was not. The two of them could not have more different personalities. Your best friend was the one to push boundaries no elves would or could do seeing that his father was the king, “A dwarf you say? That sounds like him.”

Thranduil studied your happier than he’s seen you in an entire year expression full well knowing it was because Legolas was back from his grand quest. Thranduil rose from his throne before walking down to you. Having to look up to him because he was so tall all you could do was wait on his word.

He pointed his hand towards the entrance to the kings private gardens, “Go, you audience is rather impatiently waiting on you.” He gave you a knowing smile before retreating towards the door you had originally come in, likely to go find your father. Not wasting anymore time you made a beeline towards the doors that led to the private gardens you so rarely got to enjoy. He must have deemed it enough of a special occasion to grant access to not only you, but a dwarf as well. You knew Legolas was behind that as well. He was the only one to get the king to agree to something he might not want to do.

For the second time in a few moments, you threw open the heavy wooden doors leading out to the gardens. It did not take you long to hear the pair before you saw them. You paused hoping to catch just a brief moment between the two of them before you made your presence completely known. As you suspected the dwarf had Legolas distracted from hearing you walk out.

“Look at ya lad. Pacin’ like a horse.” The unfamiliar voice chuckled. You had a feeling the dwarf poked fun at the ellon more often than not.

You just knew he was rolling his eyes, the beautiful blonde prince he was, “I am not Gimli.”

But the dwarf just kept laughing, “Ya’ weren’t even this nervous when we rode up to the Black Gate.”

“Would you quiet down dwarf. She will be out momentarily.” That sounded just like the elf that had left a year and a half prior. It was almost too easy to get him worked up and the dwarf called Gimli certainly enjoyed playing into it.

“The little lassie has you this nervous huh?” You? You made him nervous?

Legolas let out a huff, “Gimli!” And you knew that was your queue to help spare the ellon from his friend who seemed relentless. You already liked Gimli from the sounds of it. You shut the door behind you louder than necessary to signal your arrival.

Taking a deep breath, you walked forward suddenly terribly nervous after those comments. What was Gimli playing on? Why would he be nervous to see you? You didn’t want to get your hopes up on feelings as you buried those away centuries ago. Your crush for the ellon grew slowly the first thousand or so years you knew him. Truly organic in the best way possible. Childhood friends to training partners to friends then best friends after it all. Once your training to become a healer had completed you had a sneaking suspicion all his injuries in the field were so he could come see you after some time away. He would only request you. Straight refusing the other healers help when offered. He would wait for you.

But then it just stayed like that. You thought it could grow into something more, but it dawned on you over the next few centuries his father had a say in who he courts and marries. Why would King Thranduil allow his son to court you of all elves? Sure, your father was his most trusted advisor, but you were no political gain in marriage. So you did what you did best, buried the feelings deep and bottled it all up.

The two of them quieted quickly hearing the door close. When you turned the corner you finally spotted your prince after far too long apart paired with an adorably red-headed dwarf who was staring right at you. You however were staring straight at Legolas as your small smile turned into a massive one. There he was, as handsome as ever, standing right there in front of you after too long. The longest either have you had spent apart from each other.

“Legolas.” You grinned before pulling him into a tight hug. It was when he gave you a big squeeze back that you simply just melted into the ellon completely forgetting you had an audience yourselves.

“Aye lad! You left out the detail of your Y/N being quite the beauty.” Gimli spoke up from beside you breaking the trance the two of you seemed to be under. You giggled once you pulled away from him seeing the look of horror cross his face at his friends comments.

You turned to the dwarf feeling the nerves wash away. You had the advantage here as Gimli seemed to want to torture your friend, “Hello. It is lovely to meet you. I am Y/N. Daughter of Girdirion, King Thranduil’s advisor.”

He pointed at you before narrowing his eyes at you, “Do you hate dwarves as much as his father does?”

You shook your head, “Hardly. You are actually the first dwarf I am meeting. I do not get away often.” You knelt down making yourself level with him, “You are much cuter than made out to be.” That earned a few stumbling words and a rather mighty blush to the warrior who seemed to have nothing but words. You managed to render him speechless.

This earned a snicker from your favorite ellon, “Elf got your tongue there Gimli?”

That comment must have meant war between the two of them. The dwarf cocked his eyes up to his friend, shook his head then turned back to you who was now back to standing instead of crouching, “Lady Y/N. It is lovely to finally meet you too. I feel as though I already know ya lassie.” He grinned knowing exactly what he was about to do.

You looked at Legolas with curiosity framing your face before returning your attention back to Gimli, “Do you?”

“Aye.” He nodded, “Legolas here would never shut up about ye. Y/N this. Y/N that. Y/N would love this. Y/N would hate that.”

You knew your cheeks were surely aflame with embarrassment just as Legolas’ were, “We have spent quite some time together over the years.”

But Gimli wouldn’t have that, “I think it has something to do with you lassie. The way you look. The way you dress. The way you seem to occupy his every thought.”

“That is enough.” Legolas finally chimed in giving his friend a hard stare telling him to get the hell out. But that only egged the red head on further. Your eyes bounced back and forth between the two of them before Gimli relented.

He bowed his head, “My lady.”

Echoing his actions you responded, “Gimli.” Before turning your attention back to the prince. Your eyes finally were able to scan his features. Not a hair seemed out of place. He was exactly as you remembered.

“Welcome home.” You gave him your biggest smile feeling like you could finally relax after seeing him alive and well.

He wasted no more time before pulling you into a second bone crushing hug. He had never been so forward causing you to let out a slight stutter in surprise of his actions. It was the last thing you had expected from him. But then again, who knew what he went through out there. Legolas was a strong warrior, but you knew how deeply this could impact anybody who had to go through it.

“I have missed you.” He whispered into your ear not letting his arms go from around you. He had no clue how his words were affecting you in that moment. Suddenly you felt that stupid little crush, that was surely love at this point, bubbling up from the depths of your heart that you had long since locked away.

When he pulled away after a few moments he took the time to look you over just as you had moments prior. He didn’t drop his hands from around your waist though, simply holding you loosely in his embrace. You had never felt his eyes or his hands on you heavily before or that you had noticed in the past, “I have missed you beyond words Legolas. I have spent a year and a half filled with the dread of the thought you may never come home. Seeing you here is the greatest gift Eru Ilúvatar could have bequeathed.”

It was then that Legolas knew just how deep your feelings ran for him just as they had run for you. He too had spent the better part of a thousand years being absolutely in love with you, his favorite elf, but making no indication of it. For he thought you may have eyes for someone else. He could not risk losing you in the event you said ‘no’ to his request to court you. But by the way you were looking at him he knew that was wrong. Your love laced eyes could not break away from his gorgeous blue ones.

He knew he needed to take the next step with you. Gimli was right. His dwarf friend spent the better part of the journey home convincing him he needed to ask the question he had been dying to ask you. He wanted to court you. Spend the rest of his middle earth life and the next one with you. He had never been so sure of that. The thought of courting another elleth felt wrong. It was you. It was always going to be you.

“Gimli was not lying, my lady.” Even though it came out as a whisper your ears could pick it up with no problem.

That shocked you. Was he admitting the same thing that you were? Did he have feelings for you too? “Pardon?”

He grinned seeing your dumb struck face, “You do in fact occupy my every thought. You are the reason I am here now. I fought for middle earth, yes. But for you more. Thinking of your smile pulled me out of the darkest of times

Your lips parted in utter shock at his admission, “Legolas, I…” You were at a loss for words as you processed his confession to you. Your heart was giving you away completely though as it beat faster than it ever had before.

He continued seeing as you were rendered speechless, “It was only ever you. It was only every going to be you, my love. You are my very best friend Y/N. I would never want to continue this life with somebody who was not you. It is only you. It will only ever be you.” He paused finding the courage to say what had been on the tip of his tongue for centuries, “I love you.”

Your jaw might have been on the floor at this point, “You love me?”

He nodded with a nervous expression, “More than you will ever know.”

That was all you needed before you walked forward, butting yourself right against his chest, “That is a relief my prince. As I love you too. More than you will ever know.”

Euphoria. The truest form of euphoria pulsed through your body as you too admitted what had always been so hard to admit.

His expression melted to that of pure elation. Gently he placed his hands under your chin, cupping your face so carefully, “May I begin to court you, my love?”

“I would be so honored Legolas.” Your head was turned up as you looked into his eyes for likely the millionth time. It was different this time. Charged with love and lust. Like you were looking at a new Legolas. One that you could get to know at a much deeper level.

He brushed his thumb over your lips sending shivers racking throughout your body, “Only you. Only ever you.”

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kat651 · 11 months ago

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How your elven lover kisses you/ shows affection

ℒℯ𝑔ℴ𝓁𝒶𝓈：

in public he’s a model of maturity. He offers you his hand and holds the door.

Will occasionally place a kiss on your hand or cheek when he can.

Will put an arm around you if you’re feeling uncomfortable.

When alone, he’s still gentle and caring.

Kisses all over your face.

Cuddles if you want them.

Thranduil:

he doesn’t care if your in public, he is going to kiss you.

Constantly pulling you to his chest.

Would carry you all over if he could.

Teasing you constantly.

Alone he’s insane. You’d think he’s been touch starved.

Holds you in his lap

Neck bites

Long passionate kisses

Falls asleep with you in his arms.

Haldir:

isn’t big on PDA the farthest he’ll go is gently holding your hand, but only if you ask him to or he senses your uncomfortable.

Uses a different tone with you than he does everyone else.

Once it’s just the two of you, he’s a completely different person.

Snuggles

Lets you play with his hair (always falls asleep if you do)

Butterfly kisses for days.

Clings to you like a child.

Elrond:

Will gently squeeze your shoulder as he walks past.

Soft smiles when no one is looking.

Not big on PDA.

once it’s just the two of you, its gentle snuggles usually while he reads you a book or plays with your hair.

Occasional kisses on the top of your head.

Is a softy.

Lindir:

to the untrained eye, you and lindir just seem to be good friends but there are signs, though only the people he’s really close to can see the signs.

He shows you subtle PDA by simple acts of service such as bringing you tea or grabbing something from another room that you may have forgotten.

If you’re sitting at a table, he’ll occasionally take your hand when he knows no one can see it.

Once alone however, if you aren’t each others center of attention he gets clingy.

Pulls you away from what you’re doing so he can have quality time with you.

Goes from soft and submissive in public to straddling you in the bed while placing kisses over your entire body. Is still gentle with you though.

Then suddenly, he needs you to baby him and hold him tight.

Loves to play lay with your hair.

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cowboybeepboop · 6 months ago

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Fields

"Come, let us get you into bed. You need your rest."

Pairing: Thranduil x fem! Human reader

Genre: Romantic smut

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: You’re the King's human lover and you share a special night together.

Warnings: Romantic sex, oral fem receiving, riding him, unprotected sex, p in v sex

a/n: Guys please bear with me, I’m working on some new lotr/th oneshots that shall also be posted soon. As per usual, please let me know if you have any requests and I hope you enjoy.

Thranduil had a quiet moment to himself, laying in a field of flowers as the sun set behind him. He had a look of tranquility on his face as his mind wandered to many different things. He kept his eyes closed. He heard footsteps coming near him, he didn't give a reaction to this though.. he had an idea of who it was.

“You look so peaceful like this,” you hum, lowering to your knees next to his muscular body. You brush his hair from his face, touch light and delicate.

Thranduil didn't move a muscle when you knelt down in the grass beside him. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke, his eyes still shut for the time being. “I am at peace, for now..” He said before his lips curled into a small smile.

“Until someone decides to ruin it,” he added, opening one of his eyes and looking up at you with a slight teasing tone in the last part.

You press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Shall I leave you alone then?” Thranduil's smile widened into a grin as your soft lips brushed against his.

He chuckled softly as he took your hand, looking up at you with a playful look in his eyes. “Don’t you dare,” he said in a quiet but firm tone.

“Come. Lay with me.” His voice turned more of a request as he tugged on your hand ever so gently, coaxing you to lay down next to him in the flowers.

You press your cheek to his chest, eyes fluttering shut as you listen to his heart. “As you wish my King.”

Thranduil wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest as his hand came up to brush through your hair gently in a soothing manner. He gently took one of your hands in his free one, intertwining his fingers with yours.

His chest rose and fell with each deep breath as the two of you lay there in the grass, just listening to one another's heartbeats. "That's a good girl.." he murmured with a soft, affectionate smile.

You find yourself drifting off to sleep, the warmth and comfort of his body like a lullaby. Thranduil noticed your eyes growing heavy and your breathing starting to slow, it was a sure sign that you were falling asleep.

He carefully wrapped his arms around you, gently rolling onto his side to pull you closer, holding your body flush against his. "It's okay, little one. Rest.." he spoke quietly, one of his hands gently tracing soft patterns down your back as he held you in a protective embrace, the sound of his steady heartbeat in your ear.

“Mm..” your voice is a soft murmur as you cuddle closer to him.

Thranduil smiled as you cuddled closer to him, his arms holding you in a firm yet gentle embrace as he buried his face into your hair, inhaling your scent. He gently nuzzled his head against yours, relishing in your warm and softness against him.

"Sleep, my darling," he whispered softly, gently starting to stroke his fingers through your hair as he held you in his arms. Thranduil's chest rose and fell with each quiet breath, finding himself starting to grow just as relaxed as you.

After hours of holding you in his arms, Thranduil felt you shiver slightly as a cold breeze blew through the garden, gently stirring the grass around them. Thranduil's heart ached to see you cold, his arms instinctively holding you tighter in an attempt to keep you warm.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, before carefully pulling you even closer to his chest. "Are you cold, my love?" he murmured quietly, his fingers continuing to glide softly through your hair.

“It is growing cold, Thranduil..” you murmur against his chest, not willing to leave his warm side.

Thranduil gently adjusted his grip on you, pulling you closer against him, almost as if he was trying to shield you from the chill in the air. He lifted one of his hands from your hair, tracing it to your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb against your skin, before he spoke again.

"We should head inside. You'll freeze out here.." he said in a low, gentle tone, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft kiss.

“Could you carry me..” you bury your face into his chest, shivering against him.

Thranduil felt your body shiver against him once more, and he gently lifted his head off of yours so he could look down at you. He chuckled softly as he heard your request, gently running his hand down your back.

"Of course, darling," he said with a hint of fond amusement. With a slightly playful smirk on his face, he shifted his body, carefully scooping you up into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.

Thranduil walked through the halls of his palace while carrying you in his arms, his long strides eating up the distance quickly. He could feel you melting against him as he walked, feeling a sense of satisfaction of being able to provide you with warmth and comfort.

Soon enough, he reached your shared room and he pushed the doors open with one hand, stepping inside and lowering you gently onto the bed.

You cuddle into the sheets, your skirt hiked up over your hips, revealing your smooth skin to his gaze.

Thranduil's eyes roamed over your body as you settled onto the bed, his gaze lingering on your exposed skin. His eyes darkened slightly as he took in the sight of you, looking so vulnerable, so delicate, and yet so alluring at the same time.

His own clothes were slightly disheveled, the top of his shirt unbuttoned ever so slightly, adding to the overall rugged appearance. He could feel a familiar heat rise in the pit of his stomach as he looked at you, slowly approaching the bed.

Thranduil's breath caught in his throat as you wrapped your arms around the pillow, your legs slightly parted and revealing even more of your skin to him. He could feel the tension in the air as he watched you, his eyes tracing along the curves of your body, like a predator stalking its prey.

He approached the foot of the bed, slowly crawling onto the mattress behind you, his large form hovering over you as his hands rested on either side of your hips.

“My king..” you murmur, relishing in his touch. Thranduil leaned down, bringing his body close to yours, his chest pressing against your back as he leaned down towards your ear. His breath ghosted across your skin, making you shiver as he gently spoke in a low, deep tone.

"Yes, darling?" he muttered, his hands on your hips, rubbing small, teasing circles against the bare flesh of your skin. He could feel your body heat against his, his own desire growing more and more as he looked down at you.

“You’re trying to seduce me..” you murmur against the plush pillow.

Thranduil chuckled softly, his hands slowly moving up and down your sides, his touch just light enough to tickle. "Is it working?" he spoke in a low, sultry tone, his breath warm against the nape of your neck. He lowered his head, gently nibbling on the exposed skin just below your ear, his tongue darting out to taste you.

You moan softly, enjoying the gentleness of his caresses. “Perhaps it is,” Thranduil's lips curled into a small grin as he heard your moan, the sound like music to his ears.

He gently licked and kissed the sensitive skin of your exposed neck, his hands continuing to roam over your body, tracing every curve, every dip and contour of your form.

"Perhaps?" he repeated with a hint of amusement in his voice, his mouth finding its way to your shoulder, gently nipping at the soft flesh. "Only perhaps..?" he teased softly, his thumbs pressing into your hip bones.

“My King..” You gasp, feeling the familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach as he touches you.

Thranduil continued to shower your exposed skin with kisses and nibbling, his eyes roaming over every inch of your body as he continued to touch you intimately. At the sound of your gasp, he let out a low, approving hum against the skin of your neck, his hands slowly moving from your hips, running up along your sides, to your stomach.

"Does it feel good, my darling..?" he murmured quietly, his fingers gently tracing patterns against your skin, leaving little jolts of pleasure in their wake.

“Very good..” you moan, shifting beneath him so you can gaze up at him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

Thranduil let out a soft, guttural sound of approval as you shifted beneath him, his hands still gently caressing your skin as his eyes met yours. He could feel the heat and desire building between the two of you, the air growing heavier as you looked up at him.

He couldn't deny the effect you had on him; just the sight of you alone was enough to make his heart clench. Thranduil slowly lowered himself down, his body resting fully against yours as he leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, searing kiss.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at the roots softly as your legs wrap around his hips.

Thranduil let out a low growl as you tangled your fingers in his hair, the tug on his scalp sending a wave of pleasure throughout his entire body. He pressed himself down onto you, his hips slotting perfectly in between your legs as you wrapped them around him, trapping him against you.

He couldn't help himself from pressing himself against you, his own desire growing more and more intense as he felt your body against his. Thranduil's lips moved furiously against yours as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance into your mouth.

Thranduil felt a shudder of pleasure as you parted your lips in submission, his tongue slipping past to explore your mouth as he claimed it for his own. He savored the taste of you, his own lust and hunger fueling his actions as he kissed you like an elf starved.

His hands slid down your body, seeking purchase and finding purchase on your thighs as he pushed them further apart. His own hips rocked against yours, the thin barrier that remained between their bodies slowly becoming an increasing irritant.

Your muffled moans fill his mouth as he grinds against you, sending shivers of pleasure through you. Thranduil swallowed each moan you made as he continued to kiss you, his hips rolling against yours in an almost feral manner.

The friction between you was maddening, only adding more fuel to the fire burning within him. He could feel your body's response to his movements, each shiver and shudder driving him even further to take what he wanted, to claim what was his.

Thranduil broke the kiss, lifting his head so he could look down at you, his eyes roaming over your flushed, panting form. "You're mine..." he breathed in a low, possessive tone.

“Always, I’m forever yours my King.” You cup his face, lips parted and cheeks flushed.

Thranduil's heart jumped in his chest at your words, the pure devotion in your voice making his own desires flare even stronger. He leaned into your touch as you cupped his face, his eyes dark and stormy as he looked down at you with a mixture of lust, love, and possessiveness in his gaze.

"You better be," he said in a low, gruff tone, his voice heavy with emotions. "Because I have no intention of letting you go, my darling. Ever."

You smile up at him feeling his fingers tugging at the hem of your skirt. “I shall not leave your side, love.”

With a gentle yet firm tug, Thranduil lifts the dress from your body, the fabric slipping off your skin like silk. He pauses for a moment, drinking in the sight of you laid bare before him, your curves and contours bathed in the soft glow of candlelight.

His eyes sparkle with hunger and admiration as they rove over your flesh, lingering on the swell of your breasts and the dip of your waist. He lets out a soft groan, his desire palpable in the air as his hands move to trace the newly exposed skin, his fingertips leaving a trail of heat wherever they go.

You can feel his arousal pressing into you, the proof of his desire for you unmistakable. His gaze meets yours, filled with a fierce love and a burning need to possess you completely.

With eager, trembling hands, Thranduil tugged at his own clothing, each button and lace coming undone with a sense of urgency. His garments fell away, revealing the sculpted planes of his body, his muscles defined by moonlight and shadows.

His eyes never leaving yours, he reached out to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples in a feather-light touch that has you arching your back with a silent plea. He smiles, a smoldering fire in his gaze, and then his hands slid down your body, his fingers hooking into the delicate fabric of your panties.

With a firm, yet gentle pull, he slid them down your legs, baring you fully to him. His arousal grew even more prominent as he took in the sight of your naked body, your legs open and inviting, revealing your slick and swollen folds that begged for his touch.

He leaned back down to kiss you once more, his hand moving to caress the soft, wet warmth between your thighs, his fingers slipping inside you easily, making you gasp into his mouth.

With a soft growl of desire, Thranduil settled himself between your open thighs, his eyes never leaving yours as he lowered his head to the juncture of your legs. His mouth watered at the sight of your glistening sex, your arousal like a sweet nectar to him.

He took his time, savoring the moment as he gently parted your folds with his thumbs, exposing the delicate pearl of your clit to the cool air. His tongue darted out, tracing a line from your entrance up to the sensitive bud, tasting you with a hunger that was centuries in the making.

His touch was feather-light, yet firm, as he licked and kissed you with an expertise that sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Each stroke of his tongue against your clit brought forth a new gasp, each nip of his teeth a shiver of delight.

He held your legs wide open, keeping you open to his ministrations as he explored every part of you with his mouth, his teeth grazing against your inner thighs, his tongue delving deep inside you, and his breath fanning the flames of your passion. His hands remained on your hips, keeping you firmly in place as he devoured you, his mouth moving with a rhythm that was both torturously slow and exquisitely perfect.

You could feel yourself growing wetter, your body responding to his every touch, your legs trembling as he brought you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Your back arches off the bed as needy moans escape your lips, your entire body quivering with the intensity of the pleasure he's giving you. Thranduil's mouth is relentless, his tongue flicking and circling your clit with a precision that speaks of centuries of experience.

His strong hands hold your hips in place as you try to buck against him, the sensations threatening to overwhelm you. His teeth graze against your sensitive skin, sending jolts of pleasure through your body that make your toes curl and your fingers clutch at the bedsheets. You can feel your orgasm building, a coil of tension tightening in your belly as his mouth works its magic.

You're so close, so very close, and he seems to know it as he increases the tempo, his tongue dancing over your clit in a way that has you on the brink. Finally, with one last, firm flick of his tongue, you fall over the edge, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crash through you.

You're a trembling mess under him, your body wracked with spasms as he continues to kiss and suck, drawing out every last drop of your climax before finally, mercifully, letting you collapse back onto the bed. He watches you with a smug smile, licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you, fully sated and utterly his.

With a gentle touch, Thranduil brushed your hair away from your cheeks, his eyes filled with love and concern as he studied your flushed face. "Are you tired, my love?" he asked in a voice that was a blend of tenderness and desire, his breath warm against your skin.

His thumbs traced the outline of your jaw, his gaze lingering on the way your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath you took, your breasts pressing against his chest with each gasp. The question hung in the air, filled with the promise of more intimate moments to come if you weren't too exhausted from the passionate encounter.

As you nod softly in response to Thranduil's question, you reach down and wrap your hand around his thick, aroused length. The velvety skin is hot to the touch, pulsing with the beat of his heart, and your grip tightens slightly, feeling the veins that run along his shaft.

"I'm not too tired to make sure you're satisfied," you murmur against his ear, a hint of mischief in your voice as you start to stroke him, your hand moving in a slow, firm rhythm. Thranduil's eyes close, his breath hitching in his throat as your touch sends waves of pleasure through him.

His hands tighten around your hips in response, pulling you closer as he lets out a low groan of appreciation. His eyes flutter open, meeting yours, and he smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection and desire.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice strained with pleasure, as he leans down to kiss you once more, his tongue tracing the curve of your bottom lip before delving back into your mouth.

With a soft whine of anticipation, you position yourself over Thranduil's erect length, the tip nudging against your entrance as you hover for a brief moment. Looking into his eyes, filled with a fiery passion that matches your own, you slowly start to sink down onto him.

The initial stretch is exquisite, his warmth and hardness filling you in a way that feels so right, so perfect. His hands tighten around your waist, guiding you down as he groans into your kiss, feeling the tightness of your body enveloping him inch by inch.

Each breath you take is shallower than the last, each movement of your hips sending shockwaves through both of you. Once you're fully seated on him, you pause, savoring the feeling of fullness before you begin to rock gently, setting a rhythm that's as ancient as the forest itself.

Thranduil's eyes never leave yours, his hands roaming over your skin as if he's trying to memorize every line and curve by touch alone. His breath hitches in his throat with every movement you make, every gasp and whimper that escapes your lips.

The bond between you, the connection of flesh and soul, is palpable as you move together, lost in a dance that's both fierce and tender, a symphony of love and lust that echoes through the very air of the room.

As you reached up to gently trace the pointed tips of Thranduil's ears with your fingertips, his eyes rolled back in pleasure, his hands guiding the rhythm of your hips as you moved above him. The soft touch was a heady sensation that seemed to resonate through his entire being, making him shiver and his grip on you tighten.

His breathing grew ragged, matching the pace of your movements, as you both danced together in the throes of passion. Each brush of your fingers against his sensitive skin sent bolts of pleasure through his body, making him growl low in his throat, his hips rising to meet yours with increasing urgency.

The room was filled with the sweet symphony of your combined sighs and moans, the rustling of the bed, and the occasional clank of his jewelry as his head moved back and forth against the pillow. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, the friction of your skin against his sending sparks of desire through both of you.

Thranduil's eyes remained locked on you, his expression a mix of love, need, and pure animal instinct. The way you touched him was like nothing he had ever felt before you, a tender yet powerful caress that seemed to ignite every nerve ending in his body.

As you continued to ride him, his own movements grew more demanding, his hands moving from your hips to cup your breasts, his thumbs rolling over your nipples as his hips met yours in a relentless rhythm that sent shockwaves of pleasure through both of you.

Thranduil's eyes widened in pleasure as he felt your inner muscles tighten around him, signaling your approaching climax. His own was building, the pressure inside him growing with each stroke as your bodies moved as one.

With a final, deep thrust, he swelled inside you, filling you completely as he reached his peak. The pleasure was intense, a crescendo of sensation that seemed to consume him entirely. You gasped as your orgasm washed over you, your body clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you.

The bond between you grew stronger, your spirits intertwining as your love and desire for each other reached new heights. Thranduil's eyes squeezed shut, a roar of ecstasy tearing from his throat as he released himself within you, the warmth of his essence mixing with the heat of your passion.

Together, you rode the crest of the wave, your bodies trembling with the force of your shared climax, until finally, you collapsed against him, both spent and utterly content.

Thranduil gently untangled himself from your embrace, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before rising from the bed. His eyes roved over your spent form, a mixture of love and adoration evident in his gaze.

He padded across the room, stepping into the connected bathroom. He turned on the taps of the large, stone bathtub, filling the room with the sound of rushing water and steam. As the tub filled, he added some scented essential oils to the water, creating a relaxing aroma that filled the air.

Once the bath was ready, Thranduil returned to the bedside, his gaze meeting yours. You gaze at him through hooded eyes, reaching for his soft blond hair.

Thranduil's hand found yours, and he gently helped you off the bed. "Come, my love," he murmured, his voice still husky. With steady steps, he led you into the bathroom, the steam from the warm water filling the room.

He helped you into the bathtub, his touch tender and careful as he guided you in. Once you were settled, he called for a servant to change the bedding, his voice carrying out into the hallway.

“Will you join me?” You murmur, sinking into the warmth of the water. Thranduil's eyes darkened as he watched you sink into the warm water, your body enveloped in steam and bubbles.

"Of course," he murmurs in response, his voice rough with desire. "I could never resist joining you." He entered the tub, settling in behind you, his strong legs on either side of you.

Thranduil's hands caressed your wet skin, lovingly trailing over every dip and curve as he gently washed away the remnants of your recent encounter. With each touch and movement, his love and devotion for you shone through, his fingers tracing patterns against your skin that felt like a silent declaration of his love.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, his mouth hovering just beside your ear. "Every inch of you is perfect."

“My King…” you murmur, relaxing into his strong chest, your eyes flutter closed.

Thranduil wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against him so that your back was flush against his chest. His chin rested on top of your head, and he inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"Yes, my darling?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your stomach.

“You flatter me too much.” You reply, head falling back against his shoulder as you relish in his touch.

Thranduil chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He moved his head down to place a soft kiss on your neck, his mouth skimming along your skin until it reached your ear.

"I cannot flatter you enough," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Every word I say to you is true. You are everything to me, and I will never tire of telling you how beautiful and perfect you are."

“You are beautiful as well, my love.” He washes your body as you lean against him comforted by his warmth.

Thranduil's hands continued their gentle caresses as he washed your body, his touch strong but still impossibly tender. He savored the feeling of your body pressing against his, and he took his time, relishing the moment.

"Your words are sweet," he murmured, his voice low, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. "But it is you who brings the true beauty into my life."

Thranduil carefully pulls you out of the water, his hands gentle and strong as he wraps a soft, warm towel around you. He takes his time drying you off, his touch reverent as he caresses each inch of your skin.

Once you are dry, he helps you into your nightgown, his fingers grazing over your sensitive skin in lingering touches. "There," he murmurs, stepping back to admire you. "Perfect."

“Thranduil, my love.” You cup his cheek, kissing his lips gently.

Thranduil's eyes closed at your touch, a low growl of pleasure rumbling in his chest as you kissed him gently. His arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer against his chest. He deepened the kiss, his mouth claiming yours with a fierce but tender passion.

"My darling," he breathed against your lips. "You undo me with a single touch."

Thranduil's gaze softened as he looked down at you, taking note of the exhaustion in your eyes. "But you’re weary," he observed, lifting a hand to caress your cheek gently.

His thumb traced over your skin in soothing circles, his touch filled with tenderness. "Come, let us get you into bed. You need your rest."

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wild-lavender-rose · 1 year ago

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What Comes After - LOTR

Pairing: Aragorn x fem!reader, Legolas x fem!reader, Boromir x fem!reader, Faramir x fem!reader, Elrond x fem!reader

Category: Preferences/NSFW

Summary: What they would say/do after you've cum hard for them

Warning: NSFW, insinuation of sex, aftercare

Legolas-

Whispered elvish between stuttered gasps of air

"Are you all right?"

Hovering over top of you, brushing the hair from your face, cradling your cheek as your body shivers from the aftershocks of pleasure

"I'm here, you're safe. I'm here."

Light kisses on your face

Holding you carefully as you both steady your breathing

Aragorn-

Shushes you as you gasp and shake, rubbing soothing circles against your thighs and hips while you come down from the high

Whispers assurances as he lays beside you, continuing to rub your sides and arms while watching your expressions closely

He smiles when you do, relieved that you're okay and he hasn't pushed you too far

Will run his fingers through your hair and compliment you on your performance

Gathers you into his arms the moment you reach for him, holding you close and whispering his love for you over and over again

Boromir-

Is initially proud of himself and the fact you're a quivering, gasping mess

His smirk fades as your breath remains stuttered, holding himself up over you

"Are you all right?"

You nod but he doesn't believe you

Flips over and moves you so that you're laying on top of him

Rubs your back and cards his fingers through your hair as your body relaxes at the sound of his heartbeat

Still pretty proud of himself

Faramir-

Would think he had done something wrong

Kiss you all over, assessing you with worried eyes

Would hold you the moment you reached for him

Gazing into your eyes, whispering again and again "I'm here, I'm here"

You would kiss him deeply to assure him that you were fine, a kiss he would gratefully return

Elrond-

He would encourage you to cum one more time for him even after you've cum so hard

Would kiss you once you're totally spent, slow and deep

Whisper elvish in your ear

Would leave briefly to gather some wine, a basin of hot water and a cloth

Sponge bathes your sweaty, heaving body, leaving a trail of kisses in between

Helps you to drink some wine

Would hold you carefully, talking about everything and nothing as you fall asleep

Fanfic Masterlist

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wordbunch · 2 months ago

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their love language [LOTR characters]

a/n: not requested, just a little idea that i've had and wanted to share 💛 do let me know how you liked it, what you think, and i always greatly appreciate reblogs and comments 🥰 i wish you a sparkling new year!

ARAGORN ♡ acts of service and words of affirmation

This man would do anything for the person he loves and he is the most comfortable when it comes to expressing his feelings in that way. Any type of physical labor and tasks is no issue for him if he can make it easier for you, and you have grown to notice it all the time and appreciate it. His heart doubles in size when you return your affections in that way too, especially since he isn’t exactly used to having things done for him. When the mood is just right, he has no trouble waxing poetic about you and elaborating his feelings, whether in Westron, Sindarin or any other language - you are worth all of them! When he does that, it’s usually in a hushed tone with a special air of intimacy, and it feels so sacred and special.

BOROMIR ♡ physical touch and quality time

He is one tactile man and a human furnace, like, constantly, and having an arm around you simultaneously means keeping you safe as well. It’s a way for him to show his love, but also to be his protective self. However it’s not just you he’s trying to reassure through gentle touches, he also feels better and happier knowing you’re there and so close. Due to his position, he has many obligations and not always the desired amount of free time, so he’s keen on spending all on it on you. Boromir feels immensely guilty if he must cancel something last minute, or be late for a meeting with you because he was held up somewhere else, but you can count on the fact that he’ll make it up to you tenfold.

FARAMIR ♡ words of affirmation and quality time

As a person who is well-read and a romantic soul, yet someone who hadn’t particularly received many verbal validations, his absolute go-to are words of affirmation! He will shower you with sincere compliments, praise your achievements, reassure you when you’re down… he will even write poetry for you, or just recite something on the spot, it’s honestly the sweetest. Much like his brother, Faramir can be quite busy, but he tries to make sure that none of his duties interfere with the time that he sets aside to spend with his beloved.

LEGOLAS ♡ gift giving and words of affirmation

This peculiar young prince doesn’t necessarily have a favorite way of showing you love and he can be all over the place with it - he hadn’t exactly had a bunch of experience with romantic relationships - but something that seems to be a constant is him giving you small tokens of his affections. Not even something fancy all the time, sometimes it will be a pretty flower or a hair pin, but everything pretty reminds him of your beauty and he wants you to know that. If he’s unsure about how to verbally explain all the ways you make him feel, he can always revert to one of many elven songs and poems to describe it!

FRODO ♡ words of affirmation and acts of service

He is a book boy and absolutely the type of person to write long, heartfelt letters! Initially he would hide behind them because it’s easier to write feelings down and slip that under your front door, but just give him time and soon enough he’ll be raving about how in love he is with you and how you’re the best of the best in his eyes - but face to face. Frodo is very selfless as we all know, and he’s able to anticipate your needs and help you with all sorts of things before you even ask for it. Also he really appreciates your gratefulness for it.

SAM ♡ acts of service and quality time

Acts of service is the ultimate love language of this sweet gardener!! He would do absolutely anything for you, strenuous or not, and not even expect anything in return. You’re aware of that and thus you make sure to properly thank him for everything he does in more ways than one. You always joke that he’s going to spoil you. Sam loves just existing with you, not even doing anything particularly significant, but just spending time together no matter what you do. Everything with you feels like home and he never wants to leave your side.

MERRY ♡ gift giving and physical touch

He definitely has a mix of all love languages, but surprising you with small tokens of affection and seeing your eyes sparkle in surprise is just his favorite thing! He notices and memorizes when you like something, and he will use the first opportunity to acquire it for you and make you happy. Besides that, having you physically close to him is a must - Merry is almost constantly fiddling with your fingers, has an arm around your shoulders, or just mindlessly scratching up and down your arm. It’s a simple reminder that you’re there, safe and loved.

PIPPIN ♡ physical touch and words of affirmation

Those are his favorite ways of both receiving and giving love: they’re so straightforward and genuine (and he is least likely to mess up). Everything seems better and brighter when your hand is securely clasped in his, or he receives a forehead kiss, or ruffles your hair and playfully nudges you. Pippin isn’t quite used to compliments and his cheeks will heat up every single time you offer him a genuine compliment or encouragement, and he wants to make you feel the same way - he can talk a lot anyway so, might as well talk about how wonderful you are!

ÉOMER ♡ acts of service and physical touch

Maybe he isn’t the best at romantic proclamations of love, or picking out the perfect anniversary present, but whatever you need him for, he will be there in a heartbeat. Secretly he likes to feel your eyes on him as he does something for you, it makes him feel very proud. Another thing that never fails him is physical affection, because sometimes hands and lips say more than words ever could. And he makes sure that you can feel exactly how passionate and loving he is in every single kiss and caress.

ÉOWYN ♡ quality time and physical touch

She loves her independence and her peace, but letting you in made her realize it’s not too bad having someone occupying her space and thoughts. Éowyn loves to include you in her daily activities and she really grew fond of doing all sorts of mundane things together - you just make them so much more vibrant and interesting. Something that became her weakness as soon as you two met was your gentle touch and affection like no other, especially after long days and during cold nights, and it’s a simple but effective way of showing how much she cares for you.

ARWEN ♡ words of affirmation and gift giving

She is a romantic soul through and through, and she never gets bored of praising you, whether it be for your kindness, beauty, wit, or anything else. She also loves discussing all sorts of topics with you and that’s one of the things that made her fall for you in the first place. Also, this beautiful elf-maiden likes beautiful, dainty things, and she loves making you happy through little surprises and meaningful gifts, especially subtle matching jewelry!

taglist my beloved (probs not even valid anymore but oh well) @starlady66 @queenmeriadoc @entishramblings @thesolarangel @silversword7000 @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place @valkyriepirate @emmaarenstarr @noldorin-painter @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver @fenharel-enaste @ironmandeficiency @starryeyedrogue @dinofromspac3 @wisheduponastar @lady-of-imladris @frodo-cinnamonroll @unethicallypleistocene @deadlymistletoe @suncran @high-sea-husbands @asianbutnoteastasian @aidansloth @moth-makay

@bubbleyukismile @kitexvi @herstudios @babe-bombadil

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entishramblings · 1 year ago

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Haunting Me

[Legolas/F!Reader]

A.N: I have been struggling to write (like usual), so I figured I would whip out a no pressure Legolas fic. ANYWAYS, I strangely loved writing this!!! Thanks for the request XOXO

Request: @goose-gremlin — “Could you maybe do a Legolas x Reader on their period?”

Pairing: Legolas X Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader is a member of Greenwood's Guard and is struggling with menstrual/period pain. Legolas takes care of her.

Disclaimer: I don't know elvish. I use the gracious elvish dictionary. Sue me lol

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: blood, menstruation/period, pain, PMS, slight nakedness (not anything spicy you filthy fools), fluff, sweet precious elf boy

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

(Y/N)’s nose twitched, the pungent, musty scent of the incoming vile beasts invaded the fresh earthy tones of the Greenwood forest. Her keen ears picked up on subtle scurrying, the sound carried by the drift of the soft wind. Her jaw clenched and her fingers adjusted the grasp of her sword as she felt the aura of the trees shift—a surge of adrenaline fueling her anxiety, worsening the pain in her abdomen. Briefly locking eyes with the other elves in her sector, spread among the trees alert and ready, she knew their moment of action was imminent.

(Y/N) summoned the little energy she had through a deep inhale, praying to the Valar that these spiders wouldn't be in such a frenzied state. Because, if so, fuck that. For at the present moment in time, she really didn't have the capacity to deal with that absolute, motherfucking horseshit.

Because, truly, getting killed due to slowness from fatigue and cramps from one’s bloodmoon cycle would be rather unfortunate and deeply regrettable. However, facing expulsion from the guard and losing her reputation as one of the hand-picked defenders of the royal line because of it would be even worse.

(Y/N)’s gaze narrowed as Prince Legolas, leader of the Greenwood Guard, raised a closed fist.

Nêl (Three).

Tâd (Two).

Mîn (One).

He opened his palm, signaling the command: Kill them. Kill them all.

With a firm thud, (Y/N)'s boots landed on the soft soil as she sprung from the trees. She was quick with her blade, hunting the spiders as if they were meaningless prey. Her weapon was an extension of her form. Every movement was fluid and graceful, a testament to her mastery of combat. Despite her pain, she spun and twisted with ease, severing the arachnids' limbs effortlessly.

As she fought, she made sure to keep an eye on the Prince, knowing that if anything were to happen to Legolas under her watch, the king would surely banish her. Besides, she harbored no desire for him to meet his demise. She found him rather…admirable. Nothing more than that—of course not.

As (Y/N) advanced upon one of the vile beasts, her senses tingled with warning. Abruptly, she halted in her tracks, narrowly dodging an arrow that whizzed past her stomach. Her eyes narrowed as she wiped her head to see just who fired that arrow. A scoff escaped her lips as she locked eyes with him: Rekón.

When the battle came to an end, (Y/N) strutted towards Rekón, who was wiping the edge of his blade upon his thigh.

“What the hell was that out there?!” She snapped at him.

“What is it you speak of?”

“You nearly put an arrow in me!”

He shrugged. “Perhaps, you should have been faster, Shadowfoot.”

She scoffed at Greenwood’s nickname for her. “You're lucky I am fast. I can assume you don’t want elven blood on your hands��especially my blood.

He sheathed his blade and crossed his arms. “Don’t exaggerate, (Y/N). It’s unbecoming. Besides,” he leaned in and his voice lowered, taking on a snarky tone, “I don't care if you're handpicked by the King to be the Prince’s shadow, you're a pain in the ass.”

“Really, Otuuk Fe`Saign (warg kisser)?! I could have you and your ass in the mud faster than you could say—”

The rather tense interaction was interrupted by Legolas clearing his throat beside the pair. “What is going on over here?” he demanded.

(Y/N) huffed, not taking her eyes off the man before her. “Rekón here nearly redecorated my abdomen with a fucking arrow!”

The Prince sighed. “You know we can’t always calculate every motion on the battlefield, (Y/N). I am sure Rekón meant no harm.” He paused, turning his attention to the ellon. “Rekón, in the future, mind your arrows.”

“That’s the reprimand he gets?! Are you fu—“

Legolas looked at the elleth. “Watch your language, Shadowfoot. I expect this attitude to be gone by the time we enter my father’s halls.”

With that, Legolas walked away, calling out orders to burn the spider carcasses and move out.

As he disappeared into the mess of elves, (Y/N)’s brows pulled downward in a grumpy frown. “Princeling Ass,” she murmured to herself.

Unbeknownst to her, as she turned away, Legolas' gaze followed her, seeking out her form and lingering as she walked away.

….

The sun had not yet risen when the Prince’s sector of the Greenwood Guard arrived back in the Palace. The warriors dispersed into the armory, diligently stowing their weapons and armor in their designated places. (Y/N), however, did no such thing. Instead, with a persistent scowl etched on her face, she marched through the room and passed through the arched exit of the armory—presumably heading towards her chambers. Legolas's gaze tracked her suspiciously as she departed.

As the day progressed, the members of the Prince’s sector resumed their usual routines. Because it was their first day back from patrol, they were exempt from basic guard duties and standard positions. Instead, they utilized the early hours of the morning to bathe and rejuvenate themselves before gathering in the dining hall for breakfast. The remainder of the day was theirs to unwind and compile their patrol reports—the King sought to stay informed about all occurrences and perspectives during patrols, for a darkness seemed to be spreading among his trees.

At supper, Legolas moved among the tables in the dining hall, gathering last-minute reports from the warriors in his sector. As he did so, he scanned the long wooden benches, searching for the scowling gaze that had accompanied the last couple of days of patrol; however, there was no such gaze and no such person that it belonged to. Simply put, there was no sign of (Y/N).

She had missed all three meals and had failed to submit her patrol report.

Legolas cleared his throat before he addressed the elves from whom he was collecting papers. “Have you seen Shadowfoot? I need her report,” he inquired.

They shook their heads, more interested in their food than one missing shadow.

Legolas sighed, but refrained from pressing further. If anyone knew her whereabouts, they would have mentioned it.

Therefore, he made his way to her quarters.

When he arrived, he knocked softly on the door, but was met with silence.

"(Y/N)," he called out, his voice carrying through the wooden barrier.

Still, there was no response.

After a moment’s hesitation, Legolas reached for the door knob and twisted it slowly. The wood swung open quietly under his touch, exposing the darkness of the room beyond. Moonlight filtered in through the opened window, casting shadows that danced across the floor, the curtains billowing gently in the cold night air.

Legolas carefully stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind him. As he took in his surroundings further, surprise crossed his features. He didn't know what he had been expecting since he hadn't been in (Y/N)’s quarters, but it most certainly was not this.

The room was a complete mess. Clothing lay strewn about, along with various trinkets—small hand-carved boxes, beautiful natural rocks, and melted candles absent of flame. Several stacks of books were piled beside the bed, a few of them open and their pages still. Her weapons were scattered haphazardly, some resting on the floor, others on the table or atop the dresser. Legolas even noticed a few knives embedded into the wooden door—a sight that would surely displease Ada.

It was chaotic but calm in a sort of strange way. Typical for (Y/N), he supposed.

The Prince moved to walk further into the room, but was quickly halted against his will. His foot had gotten caught and, if it wasn't for his swift reflexes, he would have face-planted upon the stone flooring.

Legolas sucked in a sharp breath as he stabilized his form. Glancing down, he discovered the culprit—a crumpled tunic tangled around his boot, its fabric caught between the lacings.

He immediately sighed in dismay.

The blond-haired Prince reached down to untangle the stubborn garment. It proved to be a more challenging task than he had anticipated, requiring a few moments of quiet curses and annoyed grunts before he managed to free himself. Carefully, he folded the fabric and placed it upon a nearby chair.

Cautiously, he advanced to the large bed. At first, he could not spot the warrior within, given that the fluffy comforter and mountain of pillows were blocking his view. However, when he pulled back the blankets slightly, sure enough, she was buried deep within. The pillows were arranged around her like a protective nest and she was laying on her side. Her hair was splattered across the cushioned fabric and her expression was…one of pain. Her brows were pulled tight, her nose crinkled, and lips slightly parted.

At this, Legolas frowned, for he was now troubled deeply.

Diligently, the Prince reached out to brush some hair from her face, but just as his fingers made contact with her cheek, his action was interrupted.

(Y/N) suddenly sat up, a knife in hand. With wild eyes, she tried to slam it into his carotid artery.

He reacted quickly, Legolas intercepted her arm, preventing the blade from reaching its target. For a moment, they both froze in that tense position, the gravity of the situation sinking in as they processed what was happening.

(Y/N) was breathing quickly and she appeared very disheveled and confused. It seemed to take her a moment longer to grasp the situation fully.

"Jukkete (fuck)," she breathed out, trying to catch her breath before snapping at him. "Legolas, I almost killed you!"

The Prince still held her wrist. “(Y/N),” he began, “Are you alright?”

She huffed. "You know better than to sneak up on me like that, Princeling!" With a sharp twist, she pulled away from his grasp and settled back into the blankets. “What are you doing here?”

He raised his brows. “Princeling?” he questioned, a hint of amusement in his tone.

(Y/N) only grunted in response.

He sighed. “No one has seen you all day and—“ his sentence abruptly halted as he noticed a red stain upon the comforter. “(Y/N), you are bleeding!” He exclaimed. Without hesitation, he grasped at the blankets, in an attempt to detangle her form from them, as he continued his babbling of concern. “Why didn’t you tell me you were injured on patrol?!”

“Legolas,” she interrupted, her voice firm.

“Is it from Rekón’s arrow?! I thought you said he ‘nearly’ hit you?”

“Legolas,” she tried again.

He yanked the blanket further.” Because I swear to the Valar if it was from him, I will—“

“Legolas! Stop!” She snapped, her patience wearing thin. “I’m not injured.”

His jaw clenched in frustration. “(Y/N), I have been a warrior for all my life, I know the site of blood. That is blood. You cannot lie to me. I am your sector leader, your Prince—“

“Legolas! It’s my bloodmoon cycle!” she interrupted, sitting up to glare at him once more.

An awkward silence settled into the dark room.

“You are in pain,” he stated.

“I’m fine.”

His brows raised again. “Now, why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you're a princeling ass,” she retorted.

“No. Because for the last three days of patrol, your demeanor has been notably irritable, as you are now. You've been favoring your left side, your jaw has remained tightly clenched, and your skin a shade too pale. Not to mention, you've consistently had your hand on your hip, I'm assuming in an attempt to try and alleviate discomfort, and you even vomited behind a tree on two occasions. And, here you are, Shadowfoot, in bed, sleeping the day away in dirty clothes and not caring that you lay in blood.” He paused before finalizing his evidence. “You are in pain.”

“You have been spying on me?! I am supposed to be your shadow.”

“I have been keeping an eye on you,” he clarified.

“Why?!”

The muscle in his jaw twitched. “Because you are a member of my sector. You are my responsibility.”

“You are my responsibility,” she corrected.

He released hot air from his nose. “I am required to keep an eye on all of my warriors, whether they were hand-picked to guard me or not.”

(Y/N) huffed, shaking her head. “Did you know Sethna took a pretty nasty hit to her leg?”

“Don’t try to change the subject,” he gruffed.

“Legolas, did you know about it or not?”

A rather long moment of silence extended into the night before the Prince reluctantly responded in a low tone. “No.”

“Then you don't watch every warrior like you watch me.”

He inhaled slowly, trying to steer the conversation away from what (Y/N) was insinuating. “Is Sethna alright?”

“Yeah, she’s fine.”

Legolas nodded slowly, before returning to the main topic. “Why didn't you tell me you were in pain while on patrol?”

She rolled her eyes before muttering his name. “Legolas.”

“Why haven't you seen a healer?” he persisted.

She exhaled slowly, knowing Legolas wasn't going to let this go. “Because the healers document everything, and those records get attached to evaluations.”

“So?”

“So, I would be dismissed from the guard and relieved of my position!” she snapped.

He snorted lightly. “You would not be dismissed from the guard nor relieved of your position.”

“Others have gotten so for far less!”

Surprising her, his normally collected tone turned into a rough reply. “That doesn't mean that you would have!”

She frowned, her once loud voice now subdued. “What's that supposed to mean?”

He sent her a warning look, his eyes cautioning her against probing further.

Silence reigned for a third time that night before Legolas spoke softly. “Rest. I will draw you a bath.”

“Princeling, I do not need you to draw me a bath. I do not need a bath at all. Like I said, I am fine.”

He shook his head. “You are in pain. Let me help you.”

“Legolas–”

He cut her off. “(Y/N), do not try to argue with me on this. That is an order. Shadow or not, I am your superior and you will listen.”

With that, he stood and made his way into the bathing chambers, leaving the elleth alone with her thoughts.

She let out a slow, contemplative exhale before sinking back into the embrace of the bed once more. Lost in a haze of exhaustion, she must have drifted into a brief slumber, for it was only moments later that Legolas returned, his thumb brushing against her cheek. His voice, barely above a whisper, reached her ears. “(Y/N),” he urged softly. “Come. The water is hot. It will alleviate your pain.”

Groggily, she opened her eyes, confusion evident in the furrow of her brow.

“Come,” he repeated.

Gradually, she sat upwards, letting her legs dangle off the edge of the mattress. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, praying to the Valar for the pain to settle.

“If the pain is too much, I can carry you,” Legolas offered in a gentle tone.

She scoffed, her eyes opening to glare at him. “I can manage on my own.”

With that declaration, (Y/N) stood up and took a few cautious steps forward. But before she could proceed further, a sharp gasp escaped her lips as the agony surged through her body, causing her to double over.

A comforting warmth enveloped her lower back as Legolas placed a reassuring hand there. He remained silent, respecting her pace and refraining from pressing his earlier offer.

A small whimper escaped her lips, tears threatening to escape from her eyes.

Legolas’ hand began to move in soft circles. “It will pass, Shadowfoot. I am here,” he whispered.

Slowly, she resumed her movement, inching her way towards the bathroom. Upon reaching the basin's edge, she gripped onto the sides tightly. She squeezed her lids shut once more, focusing on her breath.

Standing only inches behind her, Legolas spoke softly. “(Y/N), please, will you let me assist you? I hate to see you suffer.”

She exhaled through her nose, seemingly debating his offer. After a moment of contemplation, she relented. “Fine,” she stated, “but if you breathe a word of this—”

“I will not say a thing. I swear it,” he assured.

She nodded, accepting his promise.

“Let's get you undressed and in the bath then.”

With caution, his nimble fingers found the hem of her tunic and began to lift it over her head. Ensuring her stability by placing one hand gently on her hip, he then carefully guided her trousers downward, assisting her as she stepped out of them. Shaking slightly, she lifted each foot into the tub, one at a time, as the Prince's firm hand remained securely on her waist. Slowly, she lowered herself into the water, his touch barely trailing up her back as she descended. Her eyes closed and a sigh of relief escaped her lips, settling into the soothing heat of the water.

Legolas cleared his throat awkwardly. “I will just be in the other room. Call out if you need me.”

She simply hummed in response.

The Prince swiftly left the bathing room, making his way to the door leading to the hallway. Peering out, he caught sight of a maid. He called out to her and motioned for her to approach.

“Yes, my lord?” she inquired politely.

“I need you to fetch a new set of bedding and obtain the following herbs: valerian, boswellia, and athelas,” he instructed.

She nodded in understanding.

“And please, keep it discreet. I have an injured warrior in here who wishes for the injury to remain quiet.”

The maid nodded once more before hurrying off to fulfill his requests.

Legolas returned to the room, feeling the cool breeze from the open window once more. With determined strides, he crossed the space and closed it firmly, halting the chill from entering any longer. He then took to light some of the candles, casting a warm glow within the room before moving to the empty fireplace. He quickly grabbed kindling and wood from the basket beside the silent hearth, setting to task. Before long, the flames crackled loudly among the stone, radiating a comforting warmth that dispelled the lingering chill.

It was then when the maid entered, a large basket brimming with fluffy fabric in her arms. Placing it beside the bed, she then retrieved a pouch from the top. Approaching the Prince, she bowed her head. “The herbs you asked for, my lord.”

“Thank you,” he replied, accepting them graciously.

The maid took to changing the sheets, making no mention of the blood. Legolas cleared a space upon the table in (Y/N)’s room. Placing a cast iron pot—one of which was kept in each room—over the now vibrant flames, he filled it with water from a pitcher. As the water began to boil, he used a small bowl to grind the fresh herbs into a paste with a pestle. Once sufficiently smashed, he ladled some of the boiling water over it and allowed the mixture of herbs to steep, filling the air with its earthy aroma.

The maid, having finished her task of making the bed and straightening up, bid an awkward farewell to the Prince before exiting the room.

Legolas sighed, taking a seat in the chair beside the table, his ears attuned to any sounds from (Y/N)'s direction—just in case.

Nearly 45 minutes passed before she emerged from the bathroom. She was clothed in soft trousers and a loose top that hung off her shoulder, her hand pressed lightly against her abdomen.

“How do you feel?” he inquired, breaking the quietness of the night.

She turned her head towards him. “You are still here?” Her gaze swept across the room, trailing off as she took in the sight of the lit candles, crackling fire, and fresh bedding.

Abandoning the chair, he approached her and gently put his hand upon her bicep. “How is the pain, (Y/N)?”

As if suddenly drawn from her thoughts, she registered that he was indeed beside her. “I, uh, it has lessened a bit.”

He nodded, guiding her to the bed. Pulling back the clean sheets, he motioned for her to get in. Surprisingly, she complied, settling into the comfort of the fresh lavender scent emanating from the blankets and pillows.

Legolas briefly left her side before returning with a cup of tea, mixed from the healing herbs. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he lifted the cup to her lips, encouraging her to take a sip. “Drink this. It will help.”

The steam kissed her face as she took the cup from him. As she drank, the warm liquid flowed down her throat and into her stomach, providing instant comfort. When she finished, she passed the cup back to him. “How do you know how to make such a tonic?”

The Prince placed the cup upon the side table. “My father used to care for my mother during her bloodmoon cycle, before she passed from this world. She too had excruciating pain. He taught me the right herbs to mix, the benefits of heat, and—” he paused, his hand moving to her lower back, where he began to massage lightly. “—what points to press to alleviate pain.”

She exhaled slowly, letting her eyes flutter closed.

“He had said, ‘One day, you will have a wife who too suffers such pain. This you must learn for her.’ And I listened.”

(Y/N) did not open her eyes. “I am not your wife.”

Before he could stop himself, his lips betrayed his secrets. “You could be.”

At this, she opened one eye, as if she was trying to subtly evaluate what his words meant based on his body language. Sensing the sincerity upon his expression, her other eye opened too. She put her full attention on him. “What?”

His cheeks flushed, the tips of his elvish ears reddening, though the warm glow of the fire hid his embarrassment. He turned his head away. “Forgive me, (Y/N). I—I didn't mean to be so…so forward.” He hesitated, then looked back at her, seeing her flabbergasted expression. “I–I suppose there is no hiding it now. The reason I keep such close watch over you is because my heart won't let me do otherwise. I fear, well, I fear that you are not just a shadow following my path.” He exhaled softly. “(Y/N), you haunt me in the most beautiful way.”

She shifted from the pillows, drawing closer until her face was mere inches from Legolas’. “You–you care for me?” she whispered.

His hand tenderly cupped her cheek, his thumb moving in a soft motion. “More than I could ever put into words.”

“Legolas,” she whispered. “Your father did not assign me to your sector. I was supposed to be appointed to protect him. I—I requested to be assigned to you.”

The Prince’s gaze met hers. “Why, (Y/N)?”

“Because you too have been haunting me.”

Legolas wasted no time. He pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s in a gentle kiss and she responded eagerly. She tasted of herbal tea and hope, while he tasted of honey and peace. His hands gently cradled her face, while hers found their way to the back of his neck, fingers entwining in his hair. The scent of fresh lavender surrounded her, mingling with the aroma of pine that clung to him. In their embrace, their minds intertwined, both haunted by the other's presence—in the most beautiful way.

Slowly, they parted. Legolas pressed a kiss to (Y/N)'s forehead before speaking softly. "Lay down. Rest. I will watch over you."

She looked up at him. “Won't you lay with me? I am cold.”

He snorted, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips like the stem of a flower being plucked from a spring meadow. “You only want me to alleviate your pain, don't you?”

She grinned back at him. “Perhaps, Princeling. Though, I did not lie, I am cold.”

With a playful roll of his eyes, Legolas kicked off his boots and drew back the covers. He allowed his body to melt against (Y/N)’s, providing warmth as he gently began to massage away her tension.

A content sigh escaped the woman’s lips as she snuggled further into him, eagerly stealing his warmth and accepting the pain relief he offered.

“Princeling,” she murmured, “You better not breathe a word of this either.”

He chuckled lightly, “I will not say a thing, Shadowfoot. I swear it.”

…

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#vayawrites #lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #legolas #Legolas fic #Legolas fanfic #Legolas fanfiction #Legolas x reader #legolas/reader #legolas x y/n #legolas greenleaf #legolas drabble #Legolas imagine #legolas fics

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faeriichaii · 1 year ago

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hi!! i’ve never requested smth before but your writing is so good im gonna give it a shot💫 could i request a legolas x human reader where she somehow accidentally touches his pointy ears not knowing that they’re sensitive for elves and legolas asks her to keep doing it (fluff/like half smut more like teasing maybe?) and legolas is just this soft baby who begs her for her touch 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Sensitive ~ Legolas x Human!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much!! You're like so sweet <33 Oh that sounds very interesting 🤭 I like the idea!! I think I once read like one with a bunch of the elves where the reader accidentally touches their ears and like!! So I hope you enjoy the story <33 (and ngl I was so close to turn it into a smut rip)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff, lil bit smut (if you squint your eyes) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 875 ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Aini Nin ~ My Angel ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Gi Melin ~ I love you ࿐ྂ

Summary: You knew that Legolas could endure quite a lot, but what you did not expect is his reaction to touching his pointy ears

You loved keeping watch during the night. Everything seemed so calm and quiet and it was the only time of the day where you really get the chance to be by yourself. Where you get the chance to think about everything that happened so far and everything that still has to come. Sometimes Legolas joins you during your watch times. These were your favourite moments with him. You always have the most wonderful talks and share your thoughts with each other.

Being alone with him fills you up with joy and warmth. One could almost say you get drunk by his intoxicating charm that he shares specifically with you. Both of you were once more sitting on the logs, around a fire that has been put out for quite some time now, talking about the future ahead. “Do you think your father will like me?” You suddenly asked him, using a stick to draw a heart onto the dirt beneath you. “There is no way he could not. He will adore you as much as I do Aini Nin.”

A bashful smile graced your lips, as you wrote your initial, as well as his into the heart. “I can’t wait to meet your hometown my love. And your father. I want to see everything and get to know all about Mirkwood.” Looking up at him, you caught him already staring at you. His eyes were shining with love and care for you. “And I wish to visit your hometown. Learn all about your family and the customs you share.”

His arm snaked around your waist, in order to pull you into his warm side. Dropping the stick you used for your small drawing, you leaned into him. “Do you think we should take Gimli with us?” A laugh escaped Legolas lips at the thought of the dwarf running around the palace grounds. “I think that would either end up in multiple deaths or banishment on his side.” Chuckling at his response, you leaned your head onto his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“I love you.” You said, gazing up at him lovingly. “Gi melin, Meleth Nin.” He gave you a soft kiss on the lips, which you immediately reciprocated. You still were looking at him, shining in the moonlight like an angel sent from heaven, as you noticed one of his braids getting loose. “Oh Legolas, can I re-braid your hair?” “Of course.” With that you stood up to take your place on his lap. His hands gently laid on your waist, as you undid his hairdo.

“I wish I had soft hair like you do.” You said, brushing your fingers through his white strands. “Your hair is already perfect as it is Aini Nin.” He softly whispered, as he leaned into your touch. A gentle smile graced your lips. Quickly giving him a loving kiss on his temple, you resumed your work on his hair. Parting the strand into a few sections, you began to weave your fingers through them. The quietness of the forest was interrupted, as Legolas let out a hitched breath. You raised an eyebrow at the sound that escaped him but continued to braid his hair.

His hands tightened around your hips, as your fingers accidentally brushed against his ear. You noticed that his ears slowly gained a red colour by the tips. A smirk played on your lips, as you let your hand brush against his pointy ear once more. Legolas let out another shaky sigh. “Are you alright my love?” You asked him, playfulness evident in your words. “Yes, it’s just… my ears. They are sensitive.” A little giggle left your lips, as you abandoned the braid and instead focused on his ear. You gently let your fingers trail along the pointy form. The elf underneath you let out a soft whine at your touch, slightly leaning into your hand.

His breathing got ragged, hips also moving up into you while pressing you down on him. “Should I stop Meleth Nin?” You innocently asked, playing with the tip of his ear. “No, please. Don’t stop.” A whine followed his words, as you put your other hand around his other ear, massaging both of them equally. Warmth spread through your body at the sounds that escaped your lover underneath you. The elven prince tried his best to keep as subtle and quiet as possible, in order to not wake up the others around you. “Do you love it when I play with your beautiful elven ears?” “Yes.” His breathy answer was muffled, as he hid his face in your neck. “Please don’t stop.” He whispered, giving you a gentle kiss on the exposed skin. Legolas cheeks were rosy and so were your own. You knew that elves could endure quite a lot, but you did not expect them to have wobbly knees after just a touch to the ears.

Suddenly you stopped your little ministration, making the prince underneath you whine sadly. “I am sorry my love, but you don’t want to wake the others now, do you?” You said, smirking slightly at his flustered expression. His hands tightened around your waist, as he brought you closer. His warm breath hit your ear. “You are going to regret this.”

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fel-09 · 26 days ago

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Hello there! Hi, hey I really like your Thranduil x Reader stories! I have a suggestion if you are taking any!

Thranduil is used to others trying to get close to him, being overly kind to get a favor. Or even the most bold being unnecessarily flirty in hopes of getting his favor. Why does reader stand out? Because they are kind to his son, his young son Legolas. Most usually brush the young prince off, but you? You actually listen and care for Legolas like he was your own.

And what better way to get into the heart of a King than through his son?

Through the Eyes of a Child

The halls of Thranduil’s grand palace had always been filled with whispers. Elves seeking favor, nobles using honeyed words, warriors boasting their latest victories in hopes of earning his approval. Thranduil had seen it all—flattery, manipulation, and, at times, even seduction. Yet, none of it impressed him. None of it mattered.

What did matter was the boy who ran through those halls, golden-haired and bright-eyed, a prince who was often overlooked by those vying for the king’s attention.

Legolas had grown up in a world where he was acknowledged, respected even, but rarely truly seen. He was a child, and in the courts of the woodland realm, children were meant to be well-mannered, obedient, and silent. Most elves bowed to him as they passed, speaking to him only when necessary, their interest feigned.

But then there was you.

From the moment you entered Thranduil’s court, you had been different. You had not tried to charm him, nor had you sought to curry favor with his advisors. Instead, your attention had gone to the one who needed it most—the child left in the shadow of a king.

You had knelt before Legolas the first time you met him, speaking to him as an equal rather than an obligation. You had asked about his training, about his interests, about his thoughts, as if they truly mattered. And to him, they did.

The first time Thranduil had noticed, it had been a passing observation. He had been seated upon his throne, listening to reports from the border patrol, when he caught sight of you in the courtyard. Legolas had been talking—excitedly, passionately—and you had been listening, nodding, smiling, engaging in a way that no one else had bothered to do.

His son had laughed then, and Thranduil had paused mid-sentence. He had not heard that sound in quite some time.

That was when the king first took notice of you.

Legolas had always been an eager learner. He adored archery, much to his father’s pride, and he had a sharp mind when it came to strategy. But he was still young, and youth, no matter how noble, carried uncertainty.

“I do not think I will ever be as good as the others,” Legolas had confessed to you one evening in the training yard, his small hands gripping his bow tightly.

You had crouched beside him, adjusting his stance with gentle hands. “Great warriors are not made in a day, little prince,” you had said. “They are made through patience, through practice, and through belief in themselves.”

Thranduil had been watching from the shadows, unseen, unheard, as he so often was. He had expected you to offer words of encouragement, but what he had not expected was the unwavering sincerity in your voice, the depth of care in your touch as you adjusted his son’s fingers over the bowstring.

No one spoke to Legolas like that. No one took the time.

That night, the boy had gone to bed with a smile, clutching his training bow like a prized possession.

Thranduil had remained awake long after.

It became routine. Every day, Legolas would seek you out. Every day, Thranduil would catch glimpses of your interactions. Sometimes, it was as simple as a walk through the gardens, where Legolas would babble about whatever fascinated him that week, and you would listen as if it were the most important tale ever told. Other times, it was training, your patience never faltering as you guided him through forms and techniques.

What struck Thranduil the most was how natural it all seemed. You did not dote on the boy in the way some might to gain favor. You did not feign interest for the sake of appearances. You cared.

And Thranduil found himself watching more closely than he intended.

There was something disarming about you, something that made him uneasy, not in fear, but in unfamiliarity. He was used to seeing others through the lens of skepticism, always questioning their intentions. But with you, he saw no ulterior motive.

That unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

One evening, Thranduil found himself in the library, lost in thought as the fire crackled beside him. It was a rare moment of solitude, one he found himself needing more often these days.

A quiet voice interrupted him.

“You are thinking too much.”

He turned, raising a brow at you. You stood in the doorway, hands folded behind your back, your expression neither intimidated nor bold—just honest.

“That is an accusation few dare to make,” Thranduil remarked, amusement threading through his voice.

You shrugged. “Few see past the crown.”

A pause. He studied you then, truly studied you, as he had so often done from afar. But this was different. This was not a stolen glance through a crowd, nor a fleeting observation from a distance. This was face to face, eye to eye.

“You care for him,” Thranduil said at last. It was not a question.

You nodded. “I do.”

“Why?”

The simplicity of the question caught you off guard, but you did not hesitate in your answer.

“Because he deserves it.”

Honesty. Again, that disarming honesty.

Thranduil leaned back, exhaling through his nose as he considered your words. “And what do you hope to gain from it?”

Your brow furrowed. “Nothing.”

For a long moment, he said nothing. He only watched. And in that silence, something shifted.

Thranduil had spent years building walls around himself, fortresses of cold logic and caution. He did not let people in easily, nor did he trust without reason. But you? You had found a way past his defenses without ever trying to breach them.

Not through deception. Not through charm.

Through kindness. Through sincerity.

Through his son.

And Thranduil, for the first time in many, many years, found himself wondering what it would be like to lower his walls just a little.

Just enough to let you in.

Time passed, and your relationship with Legolas changed. One day, as you walked along the riverbank, you suddenly heard a shout.

Legolas stood a few feet away, gripping a sword, his stance tense yet eager. His blue eyes shone with determination as he pointed the blade at you.

— I want to test myself. Fight me. — His voice was firm, though there was a trace of hesitation in it.

You blinked a few times, surprised by the challenge, before a sly smile curled on your lips.

— Your Highness, are you sure you can defeat me? ~

Legolas mumbled something under his breath, shifting slightly where he stood.

— I'll at least try... — he admitted, a little embarrassed.

But before he could react, you lunged at him—not with a sword, but with open arms. Swiftly dodging his blade, you tackled him to the ground, sending both of you tumbling onto the soft riverbank.

— Ah! — he let out a startled yelp, but his surprise quickly melted into bright laughter.

You joined him, your own laughter spilling out as you held him down. The golden-haired prince laughed so freely, so genuinely, that the very air around you seemed to shimmer.

Something was happening.

The riverbank—so quiet moments ago—now pulsed with warmth, the golden glow of tiny lights flickering like fireflies around you both. The very essence of the place shifted, embracing the joy radiating from your shared laughter. Such a phenomenon was rare. Emotions, in their purest form, could sometimes imprint themselves upon the world, leaving a permanent mark, but only if they were powerful enough to be accepted by nature itself.

High above, from a shaded path, Thranduil watched.

The scroll in his hands nearly slipped from his grasp as he took in the sight before him.

It had been centuries since he last witnessed something like this.

His lips parted slightly, and he murmured, almost to himself:

— Legolas...

At the sound of his father's voice, the young prince quickly rose from the grass, his expression alight with joy. He sprinted toward Thranduil, who, despite his usual restraint, opened his arms just enough to embrace his son.

Meanwhile, you pushed yourself up on your elbows, brushing a few strands of hair from your face as you looked up at the king. Meeting his gaze, you smiled.

Thranduil released Legolas and stepped toward you, lowering himself onto the grass beside you with effortless grace.

You raised an eyebrow.

— Your Highness, it is not proper for a king to sit like this on the grass.

He didn't even blink at your words. Instead, he regarded you for a long moment before finally speaking.

His voice was steady. Certain.

— Will you become my wife?

#x reader #fem reader #the lord of the rings #thranduil oropherion #thranduil of mirkwood #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x reader #thranduil #thranduil oropherion x reader #thranduil x you #legolas

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zepskies · 2 months ago

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One Promise

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Summary: After the battle at Helm’s Deep, you find it difficult to enjoy the victory feast. Aragorn notices your melancholy and tries to comfort you.

AN: Don't worry, I've got more Dean Winchester, Jason Teague, and Beau Arlen stories coming soon, but I had to finally get out my first ever LOTR story. So if you're a LOTR fan, I would love to know what you think of this! I thought it would only be right to start with Aragorn, our rugged hero. In this one, the reader is Éomer and Éowyn’s sister (the middle child, age-wise).

Word Count: 1.4K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, hurt/comfort, and fluff

“Tonight, we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country,” said Théoden King.

You watched from the crowd before him in the great dining hall of Medulseld, unable to hide your heavy heart. You needed no reminder of what the victory at Helm’s Deep had cost your people.

Théoden raised his chalice full of Rohirric ale and declared, “Hail, the victorious dead.”

“Hail,” the crowd echoed back to him, as was the custom. You repeated yours more quietly before you drank from your cup. The ale tasted like swill on your tongue; not because it wasn’t well-made, but because you didn’t have the heart to enjoy it.

Soon the hall was filled with the chatter and boisterous laughter that came with good food and heavy drinking, and after a battle such as this one, there would be no shortage of spirits. You weren’t surprised that Éomer, your older brother, instigated a drinking game with Rohan’s guests.

“No pauses, no spills,” he said, handing Gimli and Legolas each a pint poured straight from the cask.

“And no regurgitations,” the dwarf added, a mischievous gleam in his eyes when he glanced at the elf.

You smiled, but even in that, it didn’t reach your eyes. Éomer noticed you, or more accurately your unusual quietness.

“Are you all right?” he asked. You saw through his usual stoic expression to the concern laced underneath. You tried to give him a proper smile when you nodded.

“Yes, perhaps just tired,” you said. You took your leave of them with the idea that you might get some fresh air, see the night stars. The memory of being trapped under the depths of Helm’s Deep while a bloody battle raged above was seeped in your subconscious. After the fortified walls of the stronghold crumbled, you remembered thinking, A great crypt this will make of us. Buried forever under ash, orc blood, and bone.

And then the morning came, along with the sun—

“Oh,” you gasped at knocking into someone’s sturdy form. Aragorn, the Ranger, stopped you from tumbling to the floor. His hands were strong, but gentle holding you steady by your arms. Your gaze caught on his left hand, where a silver ring on his forefinger, holding a small green jewel, reminded you that he was no mere rugged ranger. He was the main reason any of you survived the long siege.

“Are you all right, my lady?” he asked. His voice was even and kind. Always kind.

You tried to steady yourself inside. You always struggled to do so when you looked too deeply into his eyes, so wonderfully blue as a cloudless day. Your face began to warm in a blush.

“I am sorry, my lord,” you said, quick and breathless. Your sloshing cup lied between you two. After a moment, it settled a little. You noticed he didn’t have a drink of his own, and so you found yourself raising your cup in offer to him.

Those cloudless eyes rose to meet you. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and his hands slid around yours to bring the cup to his lips. You were spellbound where you stood; you couldn’t even remember blinking while the man took one long sip. He eventually released your hands and inclined his head in thanks.

When you smiled, it almost reached your eyes.

His head tilted slightly. “Are you truly well?”

Your brief happiness faded, and your lips pursed. “Why must everyone ask me that?”

His earnestness shifted into amusement.

“It is a good night,” he said. “One that is hard won.”

“Hard won, indeed,” you agreed, but your tone was heavier.

It didn’t escape his notice as you nodded to him in respect, hesitated briefly, then slipped away from him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw your younger sister Éowyn watching, a small frown marring her features. She had been looking for him.

Aragorn gave her a reserved smile to acknowledge her, but his gaze couldn’t help but be drawn to the path you took away from him. So, he followed you.

He found you based on where his instincts led him—out of the dining hall, and onto a wide ledge that served as a balcony overlooking the immense hill on which Meduseld stood. The cold night air tugged at the skirt of your dress and blew your hair wild on the wind. You held yourself against that cold.

You also flinched at Aragorn’s hand on your back, no matter how gentle he was. His brows furrowed.

“I apologize for intruding, but it is cold out here,” he said.

After a moment, you shook your head and turned to him, drawing your cloak closer to your body. “You are not intruding, my lord. I only…I needed room to hear my own thoughts.”

A weight settled over Aragorn’s heart when he looked at you, so forlorn. Since he’d come to Rohan, and since Théoden King had been freed of his madness, the light in your eyes had begun to brighten day by day.

Aragorn fought at Helm’s Deep for all of Rohan so that its Golden Hall might not fall to Sauron’s malice. But in his mind, it was also your face that too often flashed before his eyes while he fought and scraped. He drew strength whenever he remembered your smile, however rare it was to behold.

“And what do they say?” he asked you in a quiet voice. Quiet, but not without care.

You were looking out at the dark horizon instead of him. You held yourself tighter against the chilled wind.

“That this peace is a lie,” you said. “That all too soon, the next battle will be upon us…and you will leave.”

You looked over at him then, holding his attention far greater than you knew.

“You all will leave, and this hall will once again become a colder, darker place,” you said.

Your admission struck him, so much that he didn’t at once know what to say. He only knew that he didn’t want to see you walk away from him again.

He reached for your hand, the one that lay at your side. He stepped closer into your space, until his broad form was all you could see. Admittedly, there was nothing else you wanted to see, save for the pale glowing stars above. There was a time that you thought you might never see them again.

Aragorn raised his free hand to curl a finger beneath your chin. He murmured your name, and you allowed him to tilt your face upwards so he could see you. Your tearful eyes slowly met his.

“Hope is not lost,” he said.

“But you cannot promise that all of you will return,” you said. With a steeling breath, you finally allowed yourself to be more honest. “That you…will return.”

Aragorn’s eyes widened slightly after he caught your meaning. Then, he softened.

“No. I cannot promise that,” he said.

You bit your lip as a tear fell down your cheek. He swept it away, drawing his thumb tenderly there against your skin.

“But there is one thing that I can promise,” he said.

Your head tilted in question, and it gave him the perfect opportunity. He leaned down and touched his lips to yours. At first it was cautious, a question. You inhaled deeply. Your eyes fell shut.

His second kiss was firmer, heady like red wine. Your trembling hand rose to touch his bearded cheek, and he steadied you by holding your hand there. He broke from you, just to press another tender kiss into your palm, then the inside of your wrist. Your breaths came out in a shaky rush.

“What does this promise mean?” you asked.

Aragorn paused, looking up at you again. He found you smiling. It was small but true as it lightened your face from its despair. Now, he saw hope. He saw fledgling joy.

His lips tugged at a similar smile. “It means I will carry you with me, even when we are apart.”

He moved your hand to rest over his heart.

“It means I carry you here now, even though I stand before you,” he said.

You splayed your fingers out, so your thumb could caress at the edge of warm skin not covered by his collar.

“Then I will do the same.”

AN: Eomer is coming next on the LOTR train! 💜

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tathrin · 10 months ago

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The next story I am Definitely Not Writing: a fic where Legolas and Gimli make it all the way to the Undying Lands before they realize that in addition to loving each other more than anything else in all of Arda, they are also in love with one another (this is less a realization on their part and more an assumption that just about everyone else in Aman makes on sight, and eventually they hear about it and go oh...dang...maybe...? and Legolas's mom facepalms forever) and hey what if they got married, then...?

Only the thing is, while an elvish marriage is very simple and requires literally nothing but the folks involved deciding to do it (and no, Thranduil is not allowed to demand that Gimli fetch some priceless jewel from the Fëanorian section of Tirion in order to prove himself worthy of Legolas's hand, although he tried very very hard to convince everyone that it was a great idea) a dwarven marriage is an elaborate ceremony, requiring the participation of both a dwarven officiant and several members of one's kin to perform the various elements of the ceremony.

...all of which are in short supply in this land of elves and valar.

Except. well. there aren't any other dwarves in Aman...but what there is, is the guy who made the dwarves. And he is VERY fond of Gimli. So when he learns that Gimli is kind of moping about the fact that he can't marry Legolas in dwarven-fashion, Aulë ENTHUSIASTICALLY volunteers to be the officiant and to set everything up and arrange just the BEST DWARVEN WEDDING EVER...

Because, you know. he's never actually been to one?

Gimli is stricken with horrified shock to realize just how much his own Maker has missed out on interactions with his beloved dwarves over the years, and immediately agrees to this plan (even though he knows it won't be a real dwarven wedding without his family there; but he'll swim back to Middle-earth before he says one word about that anywhere that Mahal can hear! he is going to do everything in his power to make this the best wedding ever for the sake of his Maker, dammit!).

So he gets to work crafting all the necessary accoutrements (with enthusiastic help from Celebrimbor and all his other elf-smith friends that Gimli has acquired since coming to these shores which is, let's be honest, quite a few) and carefully teaching Legolas all the necessary Khuzdul phrases and ceremonial steps that they can do to mimic as much of a proper wedding as they can without anyone else to help...

And when the big day comes, Aulë is vibrating so hard he's on the verge of setting off seventeen different earthquakes across the island, and not even Yavanna can get him to relax. Gimli and Legolas arrive to the appointed place, and find that they aren't alone: Aulë has invited Celebrimbor, too, seeing as he's the only elf in Aman who has actually participated in a dwarven wedding before with makes him the local expert as well as the closest thing to "kin" that Gimli is going to find on these shores...except.

Well, Mandos might be in charge of elvish souls, but dwarves? They belong to their Maker. And if Mahal decides he wants to...well, who is going to stop him from waking some of them up early, before the breaking of the world? Especially if he doesn't ask permission first. So when Gimli and Legolas hesitantly walk into this foreboding stone chamber, eerily close to the Halls of Mandos, wondering wtf is going on and have they offended the valar somehow and are they in trouble and if so how bad is it...?

Well, turns out Gimli will have kin at his wedding after all.

Mahal can't bring any of them back to life, not without the intervention and permission of Eru and probably Mandos too; but as long as they're in his halls, he can wake anybody he wants. So soon there is a great crowd of bewildered but enthusiastic dwarves gathered around Gimli, as he tries to explain what the heck is going on to a whole passel of relatives and friends, some of whom died even before the Lonely Mountain was reclaimed and don't even know how the Battle of Five Armies ended, let alone the whole thing with the Ring and the Fellowship...

And Legolas and Celebrimbor are standing near the entrance watching fondly, Legolas weeping around a great big smile and Celebrimbor torn between joy for Gimli and his own ever-bitter sorrows and then...

"Khelebrrimbor?" calls a deep dwarven voice, in a thick Khuzdul accent, and Celebrimbor stiffens like he's just been shot.

Suddenly there's a ruckus as a very burly dwarf is shouldering through the crowd, and Celebrimbor stumbles forward and throws himself at Narvi with a wail, and it's at least ten minutes before anyone can get a coherent word out of either of them (although it takes considerably less time to catch the gist of Narvi's lecture about how dare you and lucky he's already dead, or I'd have a gift for him he wouldn't forget in a hurry and what were you thinking???).

Legolas gives Aulë a very pointed raise of his eyebrows, and Aulë shrugs around an unabashed grin. "Who in all the ages of the world is more of an expert on marriages between elves and dwarves than the two of them? I am a craftsman, Greenleaf; of course I would want to make use of their skills and experience in this endeavor. Nothing more to it than that."

Legolas hums noncommittally, but his eyes are dancing.

Mahal ignores him and steps forward to start the wedding. It takes even him three tries before he can shout loud enough to be heard over the tumult and get everyone's attention, but eventually he gets them all to quiet down enough for the ceremony to begin. Not everyone in attendance is entirely thrilled by the prospect of Gimli marrying an elf (that elf) but no one is so cross that they walk back into their dreams of stone to avoid it, which Gimli chalks up as a victory.

(Legolas's terrible Khuzdul pronunciation doesn't help, but the very enthusiastic way he praises Gimli when the ceremony reaches that point makes up for a lot. By the time he finally runs out of words, a few of the more recalcitrant attendees have changed their tune about him. The fact that he's so good at weaving the required braids doesn't hurt, either.)

There aren't nearly enough refreshments for a crowd that size afterwards, of course, since Gimli and Legolas weren't expecting anyone but themselves and Aulë to be there; but that doesn't much matter, because 90% of those in attendance don't have the sort of corporealness that would allow them to eat the dwarven delicacies that Gimli spent all morning fussing over anyway. (That doesn't stop some of his more elderly relatives from scolding him for not following their recipes better.) They're solid enough that you can hug them or kiss them, in the case of a certain former smithlord of Eregion or get half-knocked off your feet by their congratulatory backslaps, but they aren't alive. They're still the dreaming dead...it's just that for the moment, they're dreaming in a bit more wakefulness than usual.

In the end it's not what one would call an orthodox dwarven wedding, no; but it's a lot closer than Gimli thought he would get, and since he's hardly an orthodox dwarf, the small tweaks and oddities of their strange situation don't bother him in the slightest.

As for Aulë, he's never been happier.

And if it takes a long, long time for Celebrimbor to finally leave (and if he tries to devise a way to prop the door open on his way out)...well, Aulë is enjoying himself far too much to do anything but pretend not to notice. Even when Námo clears his throat at him very pointedly.

Twice.

And then again. And again.

"Aulë...!"

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frost-queen · 2 months ago

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Intertwined branches (Fem!Reader x Legolas)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @floatlosers, @alex–awesome–22, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23, @melsunshine , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic , @eliscannotdance, @p0nycurtis, @slythetic, @bitchybananaflower, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr

“This forests feels sick.” – you let out, standing at the edge of the woods. Feeling slightly nauseous. If you should take one more step, the disease would sicken you even more. – “You are right.” – a deep voice came through, coming at your side. Making you slightly turn your head to the wizard. – “This forest is very sick, my friend.” – Gandalf continued with a deep breath.

Leaning against his staff. – “And… and we are to pass it through?” – A higher voice came in, making you turn your other side. Gaze much lower. – “Yes Bilbo Baggins.” – Gandalf responded. Taking a few breaths before staring in front of him. – “It is our only way.” – he finished. You looked over your shoulder, seeing the dwarves take a moment to catch their breath.

Kili taking off his boot, turning it over so any small rocks could fall out. Thorin keeping a watchful eye at you. You inhaled deep coming to lean closer to the wizard. – “Gandalf.” – you simply started. The wizard already knowing enough. Nodding his head with slightly pouted lips.

“You will lead them to safety.” – he said making you widen your eyes. – “Me? Where are you going?” – you asked as he already stepped away from the forest. – “Gandalf!” – you called out catching the attention of the dwarves. Gandalf hopped onto his horse as you came running over to him.

Grabbing his horse by the reins. – “I have other business to attend. We shall meet again in haste.” – he spoke, giving his horse a kick. You let go of the reins, stumbling back. – “Where is he off to?” – Kili asked confused. You took a deep breath before turning to the thirteen dwarves and a hobbit. – “Gandalf will meet us soon.” – you informed them.

“Gather all your things. We must venture through the woods if we wish to keep the orcs off our backs.” – you told them walking towards the woods. – “I’m not listening to you in charge!” – Thorin said loudly. It made you stop and sigh deeply. – “No chance I am following an elf in there!” – he finished.

“Thorin!” – Bilbo called out stepping in. You held your hand out, letting the hobbit know it was alright. – “If those are your believes, I shall not contradict them, but do know I only have the best interests. Is there anyone that wishes to follow me?” – you asked.

Bilbo raised his hand, coming to stand beside you. Thorin glared at him. – “She’s our best chance and you know it Thorin.” – Bilbo spoke, keeping his thumbs in his pockets with a little shrug. Fili and Kili both raised their hands as well. Stepping over to your side.

“Has she not proven her loyalty long enough uncle?” – Fili asked. More dwarves came standing by your side. – “The forest is the quickest way through. It will take us weeks if we go around. Weeks we do not have. Durin’s day is approaching.” – you reminded him. Thorin huffed loud. Walking over, avoiding all eye contact. All of you ventured into the woods. Remaining close.

You took the lead, minding your every step. Gaze forwards as you had the sharpest vision and hearing. – “Y/n.” – you hummed loud to acknowledge the person that spoke to you. A small presence coming at your side. – “Do you know these woods?” – it was Bilbo who asked.

“These woods are Mirkwood.” – you explained to him, keeping your focus in front of you. – “Long ago woodland elves roamed these woods.” – you went on. Bilbo interested in the world far beyond his cozy hobbit hole. – “Where are they now?” – Kili asked huffing loud to keep up with you. – “I do not know.” – you responded.

“Perhaps long gone, for this forest is sick. It is very sick.” – you spoke stepping over a branch. – “How can you tell it is sick?” – Kili questioned further. – “The air is thick and full of stench. The forest is not healthy.” – you gestured at the ground. Kili looked down seeing how dead the ground was. Making him swallow hard.

The deeper you went into the forest, the darker and gloomier the forest became. Taking a deep breath at the webs woven between the trees. – “I feel like we’ve been here before.” – Bifur called out, scratching the back of his head. – “Are we going in circles?” – Fili asked. Bilbo furrowed his brows, watching his feet carry him further.

Thorin rushed to the front, grabbing you by your clothing, shoving you with your back against a rock. Pulling out his sword. – “Have you been leading us in circles? Make us loose our minds so we could be easy prey?” – he called out. – “Thorin stop!” – Bilbo called out. – “Quiet master burglar!” – Thorin snapped back. – “Answer me elf!” – he spitted out like it was a curse word.

You did not flinch. Keeping your gaze stern on the dwarf. – “It is the forest. Keeping us here. Taunting with our minds.” – you replied. – “Do you not feel it. The nauseating feeling inside of you. It is the sickness entering your mind.” – you explained to him. – “I do not wish to harm you Thorin Oakenshield!” – you called out, shoving his sword away from your throat. – “I am here to help you. That is why I signed that contract.”- you reminded him of so many nights ago in a hobbit hole.

Thorin grunted loud taking a step back. Fili took him by his arm. Thorin didn’t wish to know anything of it, shoving his grip off. – “What do we do now?” – Dwalin asked curious. You looked up to the trees. Barely any rustling through their leaves. – “I shall take a look from above.” – you called out.

With swiftness you jumped up. Grabbing a hold of a branch and pull yourself further up. Higher and higher you went. Feeling lighter with each step. At the very top, you popped up from between the leaves. Feeling the midday sun on your face. Taking a moment to let it all in. It felt liberating. Healthier. You then gazed at the horizon. – “I can see the edge of the forest!” – you shouted loud.

“It is but a day’s path.” – you went on. Trying to listen for any response. It remained silent. – “Dwarves?” – you called out, wanting to hear an answer. Lowering yourself a bit more, you knelt down on a branch at the highest top. Looking down at the dark and sickening forest. – “Dwarves?” – you repeated waiting for an answer.

It was then that you heard a shout, making you gasp loud. Quickly you made your way down. Seeing how the webs had increased. A path of woven webs between the trees. Your head turned in the direction where you heard more shouts.

Quickening your pace, you ran from branch to branch. Remaining up high, jumping over to the closest branch. Taking your sword out, letting it hang stiff backwards. You jumped further onto another branch. Seeing thick sacks of web. Some of them still squirming. Moving your sword swiftly forwards you ran up to a sack. Taking a leap as you cut the cord.

Landing gently on another branch. The sack had fallen down with a loud thud. Seeing how it was squirming on the ground for a way out. You jumped for the next sack, cutting it loose as well. When you made your way over to the third one, you were finally greeted by it’s master.

A giant spider punched his front legs up, showing you it’s sharp fangs. Angry that you were cutting loose their food. Looking sharply over your shoulder, you saw more spiders crawl up. Quick on their eight legs. The spider in front of you thumped their front legs forwards as you jumped back.

Swinging your sword across to cut off a bit of it’s leg. It squealed and rattled it’s fangs together with a clicking sound. Hopping to the next sack, you cut it loose watching it fall on top of another sack. In one of them had Thorin been able to free himself from the webs. He briefly looked up to you, standing amidst the spiders. They kept tapping their front legs in your direction.

You held your sword above your head, glaring back at them. Knowing they craved your elvish bones as well. Whatever that could feed them. A spider launched at you. It made you jump up, stomping your foot on its face. It’s head got pushed down. You ran further over it’s body, setting yourself off to cut off another sack of webs.

Knowing down below, Thorin was freeing those that had fallen. Suddenly you heard some grunts, making you turn your head. From between the thick webs you saw another sword slash through. Cutting a few sacks of webs. – “Bilbo!” – you called out, overjoyed that he was unharmed. It startled him, looking around for your voice. He spotted you between the webs, his eyes suddenly widening. – “Y/n!” – he shouted loud with a shaky point.

You already felt the presence behind you. The clicking of fangs together. You quickly spun around, taking out a dagger. As the spider lifted it’s body up, you stabbed it right from underneath it. Pulling your dagger free as green goo came leaking out. You then cut off a leg with your sword. The spider screeched loud, stumbling back. You turned back around to Bilbo, seeing danger behind him. You threw your dagger towards him.

Bilbo’s eyes widening as he saw the dagger go his way. Fly past him as it made him turn around. The dagger hitting a spider right in a few of it’s gathered eyes. The spider screeched, stomping it’s legs around. One of its legs kicked Bilbo, sending him down. – “Bilbo!” – you shouted loud watching him fall. Falling through webs that seemed to ease his fall down.

Taking a web, you used it to slide down. Spiders above you, making their way down as well. From above you saw some spiders had made their way down. Blocking Thorin’s path. He rose his sword ready to fight. Then his attention got drawn away. Something in the trees moving quick and swift.

You immediately saw that they were elves. Coming from the trees, making their way down to slash the spiders. You dropped to the ground, standing sturdy on your feet. Searching for Bilbo through the mess of webs. – “Master Baggins! Master Baggins!” – you called out. – “Over here!” – you heard a faint voice reach out. Slashing your way through webs. Cutting your way through to him.

He sighed relieved at the sight of you. You pulled him up to his feet, giving him a little shove in the right direction. Spotting how the elves had gathered around the dwarves, made you tap Bilbo on his shoulder to stay out of sight. He nodded, slipping off.

You hid between the trees once more. Sneaking up to the other elves. Drawing your bow as you pointed it at one of them. – “Lower your weapons!” - you called out. Immediately a few other elves turned their bows at you. – “You travel with these dwarves?” – the person you held under shot spoke. Slowly turning his head to you.

His bow raised at you as well. – “With whom I travel is my business.” – you answered with a glare. The elvish boy quirked his eyebrow up. You kept staring at him, something about him feeling familiar. Hearing sudden shouting made you pull your attention away. Draw your bow away and fire a shot.

The arrow hitting a spider right in the mouth as it lowered. Kili looking frantically behind him at you. – “A dwarven nalla speaks a' lle.” – the elf spoke in an Elvish tongue. Hinting that the dwarven cry had taken your attention. – “Amin listen a' i' nalla en' nosse.” – you replied.

“What is she saying?” – you heard Bifur whisper to Bombur. – “Don’t let him trick you Y/n!” – Bifur then called out. Making the elvish boy quirk his eyebrow even more up. – “Y/n?” – he repeated intrigued. You blinked surprised when he lowered his bow on you.

Stepping closer to you. Getting very close to observe your features. It made you lean back, keeping your gaze away from him. Wondering what drove him this close to you. Perhaps something drove him to you. – “It cannot be.” – he whispered out in shock. You slowly let your gaze go towards him. Slowly recognizing something in them.

Something old and familiar. Something or someone you had long not seen. – “Legolas?” – you said with furrowed brows. The elvish boy nodded with a smile. – “Y/n!” – he repeated gesturing at the others to lower their bows on you. So they did. Legolas smiled brightly, wrapping his arms around you.

“She’s hugging the elf… should we be worried.” – Bifur whispered to Fili. Fili kept glaring at Legolas. You broke the hug free. – “Release my dwarven friends, Legolas.” – you told him. Legolas held a hand on your shoulder, turning you slightly away from them. – “You call these dwarves friends?” – he questioned.

“And you damn well know it!”- Fili called out with an interruption. – “You are trespassing. I have no other choice but to bring them to the Elven king.” – Legolas called out. You stepped away from him, coming to stand with your friends. – “Then you must capture me as well.” – you let out. – “Y/n!” – Legolas whispered to you, letting you know you were doing something stupid. You stood your ground, remaining by their side. – “Take us to your king.” – you told him. Legolas cleared his throat before giving out the signal.

Some elves pushed your friends forwards to march. Legolas falling in step with you. Unable to stop looking at you. Stop looking at the friend he had not seen since childhood so many times ago. A friend he didn’t think he would see again. You glanced back at him, unable to hide your smile. Feeling a little more save with him around.

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