#the Librarian and the Elvenking

[mimilind]

The Librarian and the Elvenking - Part 1

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 2100

Parts: [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

��� ✧ ♕

1. The Anonymous Borrower

When your carriage rolled into Dale for the first time, you were struck with how quaint the town was. Nestled in a bend of the river, it had narrow, winding streets and stone houses with slate roofs. Columns of smoke rose from its many chimneys, and a bustle of humans crowded the streets.

Strider’s hoofs clopped merrily on the stone pavement and the wagon wheels squeaked. After many days on the road, you looked forward to a pleasant supper and a warm bed for the night.

Unsurprisingly, everyone gawked at you when you passed them by. It was always like this when you arrived at a new place; you were an elf with a mobile library in a city of men, of course you would draw attention. But you knew they would get used to you after a few days and return to business as usual, with your service as a – hopefully – pleasant addition in their lives.

You had started your library service roughly thirty years ago, after the War of the Ring, and by now you had been in many human cities. You never stayed for long; as soon as you found someone there willing to copy the books and create a more permanent establishment you would move to a new place. As a result, there were now libraries in several towns, both in Breeland, Rohan and the new Brownland settlements – and today the time had come to Dale. You had only left Gondor alone, for there the new king had built libraries of his own.

It was a lonely life; that was the only downside of being a mobile librarian, but the joy you brought to remote settlements made it worthwhile. And in all honesty, you had never had many friends back home in Imladris anyway.

In the morning you set up your stall in the town square, exposing some of your more popular volumes in stands in front of the carriage, and beside them a sign explaining how it worked. Soon a curious crowd gathered around you, looking at titles, skimming pages and – a few – signing up to become borrowers.

From experience, you knew the first few days would be slow, with people mostly looking, but when some of the more daring had tried your library it would spread like ripples in the water. By the end of the month you would probably have gained a large number of regular customers.

You were just taking a quick lunch in your carriage when three elves walked by. They were the first of your race you had seen in Dale, which was a largely human town with the occasional dwarf resident. Judging by their clothes, these were Wood-elves; garbed in the greens and browns of the forest as was their habit. 

The elves regarded your mobile library with curiosity, mumbling among themselves. Then the taller of them, a silver blonde ellon, sidled up to one of your stands and picked up a book. 

You put your meal aside and stepped out, whereupon he jumped in surprise and nearly dropped the volume. 

”Oh, I see you have discovered ‘The Principles of Lust,’” you said. ”It’s my only Haradrim work; very popular with the married couples. Shall I sign you up on my borrower list?”

The ellon’s pale cheeks had become bright red, and he quickly put the book back. ”I don’t think my wife likes that sort of thing.” 

”Such a shame. Hm. Maybe she would enjoy a book of fables? The Gondorian ladies adore them. This was written by Lady Finduilas, who was the wife of the former steward in Minas Tirith.” You picked up a colorful booklet.

”What are fables?” The ellon seemed almost reluctantly interested. 

“Short stories with talking animals as the main characters, where the reader learns valuable lessons of life – such as not coveting what others have, or judging a book by its cover.” You chuckled. “Pun not intended.”

His lips quirked up at first, but he smothered it before his features had progressed into an actual smile. “It seems risky; lending books like that. What do you do if someone just keeps them? Humans are not very trustworthy.”

“Well, as you can read on this sign here, borrowers leave their name, address and a security deposit, which will be repaid once they return the volume. The deposit can be money or something of equal value. Jewellery is fine too.” You nodded at his fingers, where several elaborate rings gleamed. 

The elf hid his hands behind his back. “I see.”

“I have lost a few books, but mostly by accident. One girl dropped a book in the bathtub, and I get the occasional ripped page – but I have several copies of each volume, and I brought material for repairing them if needed.”

“All this sounds like a lot of trouble. What’s in it for you?” The elf frowned. He had the most formidable eyebrows you had ever seen. Very expressive.

“Well, mostly I just wanted to give the humans some hope and joy after the war, and what better way is there than bringing them stories? As elves, we have time to hear and learn all the tales of old, but a human who lives perhaps eighty years at most is not so fortunate.”

“How altruistic.” 

“Isn’t it?” You gave him a dazzling smile, pretending he had meant it as a compliment. “So, shall I sign you up? And perhaps your friends there as well?” You indicated his silent companions who had stayed some yards away. They reminded you of guards; alert and watchful, but they carried no visible weapons.

“Just I.” 

The ellon produced a silver dollar as a deposit, and writing in an elegant, yet masculine Tengwar he swiftly filled in the form you gave him. 

When you received it, you could not hold back a chuckle. “Your name is Ú-eneth?”

“I am known by that name in this town.” He frowned slightly again. 

“Right. Well, Master No Name, welcome as a borrower. I wish you much enjoyment!” You took his hand and shook it. 

Ú-eneth’s reaction to your simple gesture surprised you; he flinched visibly and stared at your hand like he had never seen one before.

“Sorry! I must have spent too much time with the humans.” Smiling apologetically, you moved your hand to your chest and bowed in an elvish greeting instead. 

“No need,” he mumbled, but still looked bewildered. 

You gave him a cloth bag. “Here is that fable book for your wife. Do you want something for yourself as well? You look like a warrior with those wide shoulders; perhaps I can tempt you with ‘The War of the Last Alliance - a Recount,’ by Meneldil of Gondor?”

His cheeks paled. “No thank you,” he choked.

“My goodness. You fought in it, didn’t you?” You gave him a sympathetic look and pressed his shoulder comfortingly. “Sorry if I brought up painful memories.”

Again your touch seemed to unnerve Ú-eneth. “I have to go.” He left rather hurriedly with his companions in tow.

You looked long after the disappearing trio. When walking, it became even more obvious that they were trained warriors; they moved with that certain confidence and grace obtained by long hours of sparring. And of course their exceptionally fit bodies were a giveaway.

♕ ✧ ♕

About a month later Ú-eneth came to return your book. Like before, his company remained at a distance. 

“Welcome back!” you greeted him heartily, shaking his hand without thinking. Now, however, he seemed to expect it and actually shook back. 

You noticed pale patches on his fingers where he had worn rings the last time. Why had he taken them off? Was he hiding something?

“It was an interesting read,” he said.

“Glad you found it so. I put aside some other books with you in mind.” You took a large, leather bound tome and two smaller hardbacks from a shelf. “Do you like action-adventure stories? This is Rohirric; ‘Tales of Heroes and Dragonesse,’ by Fram Frumgarsson. Human youngsters enjoy it a lot.”

“I am not particularly fond of dragon stories. And I am no youngster.”

“Didn’t say you were.” You gave him a disarming smile. If he had fought in the War of the Last Alliance he must be well over three millennia old.

Ú-eneth took one of the smaller volumes and read the title: “‘The Children of Húrin �� a History.’ That Húrin? From the First Age?”

“Aye. It’s based on the man’s tragic life, and carefully recorded by Erestor of Imladris…”

“Huh. That old bore.”

“... who is my uncle.” You smirked at the look on his face.

“I’ll take it,” he said hurriedly.

“He also put down the tale of Beren and Lúthien, if that could interest you?”

“Why not.”

So, he liked romantic tragedies. You stored the information for future use.

Packing his books, you asked conversationally: “What brings three elves to Dale, then? I was told none of our race live here.”

“Business. I purchase wine for… Uh, the king.”

“Elvenking Thranduil? I’ve heard of him.” You gave him the book bag. “Quite a scary fellow, is he not? At least the Daleans think so.”

“To mortals all elves are frightening,” he huffed dismissively.

“I’m not.” You shrugged.

“But you are an unusual elf.” 

“Am I? Maybe.” Perhaps you were a bit different, especially since you spent so much time around humans. But you had no time to ponder it, for your most avid readers had come; Liv and Ylva, two teenage human sisters. They stopped at a respectful distance to Ú-eneth, gawking at him with large eyes.

You glanced at the object of their admiration and understood them. He was handsome even for an elf; to human eyes he must be absolutely stunning. Tall, muscular and elegant, even in his simple, unadorned tunic. 

“I have to attend to the girls now, but it was good seeing you again.” You pressed Ú-eneth’s arm in a friendly manner, telling yourself it was a nice gesture and not at all because you liked how strong it felt. “Welcome back at any time.”

His eyes darted to your hand on his arm, and then met yours. “Aye. I will be back.” 

Something in his expression puzzled you. This time he didn't flinch from your touch, but he seemed extremely conscious about it. Almost as if he had never been touched before, which was odd for a married ellon – he must have touched his wife at least once on the wedding night – and very intimately too, if the Haradrim book was correct about such matters. 

Maybe they didn't live together? That could explain why he seemed so lonely. You felt sorry for him; it must be horrible to have nobody to hug.

Well, actually, you knew it was horrible. So much so, that you had to resort to hugging Strider, your horse, and some of your customers. 

When Ú-eneth had left, Liv and Ylva came closer, and you greeted them with a warm hug each.

“You know him?” asked Ylva in an awed voice after you had released her.

“A little.” You smiled at the besotted look on her face. “Ú-eneth is one of my borrowers.”

“He’s amazing,” said Liv dreamily. “Ú-eneth… It’s beautiful. I love his name too.”

“It can’t be his real one,” said Ylva. “It means ‘no name’ in Sindarin, right?”

“Dunno. I hate the Sindarin lessons.” Liv giggled. “But if he’s not telling his real name, then that’s even more romantic! It’s like in ‘The Children of Húrin’ when Túrin comes to Nargothrond and Finduilas calls him Thurin because he’s so secretive.”

“Ah, yes.” Ylva sighed lustfully. “The way he named himself ‘The Wronged.’ So tragic. I love him!”

“I love both Beren, Túrin and Glorfindel. And now Ú-eneth too.”

“That reminds me…” You held up a shining new book. “I just finished making a third copy of Glorfindel’s autobiography, so you can borrow it now.”

“Thank you! Thankyou thankyou thankyou.” Liv pressed the book to her bosom and made a piruet. Then she stopped dead. “What if Ú-eneth is Glorfindel in disguise?” 

Ylva gasped. “He could be!”

You chuckled. “Sorry to burst your bubble. I know Glorfindel, and Ú-eneth is not him.”

“I’m so jealous of you. You have met Glorfindel, and Elrond, and even Elessar of Gondor!” Ylva sighed.

“If you do all your lessons, then maybe you can study at the Imladris University in the future and meet some of them yourself,” you said encouragingly. “But then you must do your Sindarin homework.”

“We will! We’ll study real hard.” The girls beamed at you.

♕ ✧ ♕

Parts: [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

[mimilind]

Never tried this before. :)

Here are my answers:

My favorite lesser known fic is Rose in the Caribbean. (Jack Sparrow x Rose deWitt Bukater, rated T) It’s a crossover with Titanic which could explain why it’s less popular than my other fics, but I was always very happy with how it turned out, and the overall themes of forgiveness and to define who is good/evil. Plus sober!Jack Sparrow was a treat to write!

No I don't think I have made myself upset. I tend to write happy endings that put a smile on my face. :)

My hardest scenes are all from Thranduil's Shadow. It's a Silmarillion-based fic (rated M) and the research I've done for it is massive, mostly because I needed to explain inconsistencies I've found in the canon material...

Ohh, hard one... I had a lot of fun writing Halbrand in my short fic Perfect Balance of Darkness and Light (M) but I also really enjoyed fleshing out my OC Kat in Cat of the Fellowship (T). And the OC/Reader in my short Thranduil-fic The Librarian and the Elvenking (T) was also so nice to write!

No, I generally put on the LOTR-soundtrack or sometimes the Vikings soundtrack or something else fantasy-ish. :)

Here are 3 fics I would like to recommend:

First of all I'd like to share my most recent completed fic: Boromir x Reader. It's 18K words so a pretty fast read. Hurt/comfort trope, works with canon even though Boromir survives in it. :) Bonus chapter is Explicit smut, the rest T-rated.

This fic I always recommend this time of year, it's a Halloween themed Thranduil and child!Legolas fluffy gen fic. :)

Finally I'll recommend my ongoing Matched From Birth, it's a Legolas x OC and Thranduil x OC, M-rated, with family secrets, secret Tolkien characters, drama, falling in love, pining, and how to make a relationship work. It's a WiP but almost completed, usually updates Sundays.

Happy Monday, Fellowship! 💜

Here at Fellowship of the Fics, we want to get to know you as authors, just as we want to hear about your stories! Each month we will have five selected questions that we encourage you to answer as a way to help promote yourself!

Simply reblog this post and answer the questions provided. This is about YOU and YOUR creations! We encourage self-bragging as much as possible!

Here are the questions for October 2023!

What's your favorite story you've written that doesn't gain a lot of attention?

Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing? Why?

What has been the hardest scene to write for [choose your fic]?

What character for [choose your fic] was your favorite to write?

Do you have specific playlists for writing fics?

Now, share up to 3 of your fics you’d like to recommend to us and your followers!

[mythic-raccoon]

The way I see each Empire and it’s people (some with more detail than others, depending on who I watch)

Rivendell: Probably the most nationalist empire; they live thousands of years and have millennia of history. They are the “true” elvenkind and their ruler is the sole Elvenking. With all that said, they are a charitable people, so long as you respect their beliefs. For centuries they have remained fairly separate from the rising and falling of other empires, only helping individuals or families, never on a federal level. They are somewhat conservative and quite religious, they believe that whatever one does us for the good of society. This means that gay sex is frowned upon due to the fact that it will not result in procreation. This does not apply to trans/any non-cis elf because you don’t have to procreate, it’s that if you do engage in such activities, you should be doing so for the benefit of all, not frivolities. This also means romantic relationships are fine, a married group doesn’t have to bear children, though they do have to be a “beneficial pairing” (the union has to be able to be useful as a union). Poly relations are sometimes encouraged, as more work can be done in larger groups. Elves are weird, but Elvenking Smajor is working on it (and attempting to prove that a marriage alliance with the Codfather is worthwhile).

Pixandria: The desert lands will not last after Pixlriffs dies, his legacy will be a hub of trades and the vigil. The people under the burning sun are very independent; the more people you have to care for, the less water to go around. They respect death as inevitable, and honor the eldest for being wily enough to outwit it for as long as they have. Most desert folk are either elven or dwarvish, but it matters to no one what you are. If you can survive the desert, or make yourself useful, species don’t matter. Very few care for the law, and gender/sexuality standards are nonexistent. It doesn’t exactly matter if you’re an aromantic, bisexual, trans woman when you can’t use a weapon and get mauled by a lion. If you do it to survive then whatever happens is fair game (this does include cannibalism), unless you betray your own. A traitor or a dealbreaker is the worst thing you can be. If you go back on your word then you can’t be trusted and if you can’t be trusted, you’re of no use to anyone at all.

The Grimlands: No Grimmish citizen is born one, you either come from another land or last long enough after birth to apply. This isn’t an “only the worthy” situation. It’s to prevent you from wasting your time removing your citizenship when you realize there’s a 94% chance of getting blown up because the Counts/Countesses tend to be *moderately* insane. This applies to the ruling family, so when Gem decided she would rather blow herself up from a backfired fireworks spell, she applied for the Crystal Cliffs Academy of the Glowing Arts. The Grimlands has an extensive education program, and has the highest percentage of scientists/librarians/educators, they’re all at least a little of their rocker but it’s a very effective system. If you aren’t one of those, odds are you’re an alchemist, mechanic, metalforger, butcher, or some mix of the four. The Grimmish are predominantly male due to the fact they’re more often more muscular, but it doesn’t really matter to anyone. No one cares about your sexuality and though it is tradition to refer to the current Count as “Daddy Fwhip,” you are generally obligated to not be too effusive in public, no matter who you’re partner is, due to the fact it takes away from work time. It is also encouraged to drop everything (unless you’re a doctor, ill, injured, or in labor) and watch for the tinkerer’s most recent project implode.

The Crystal Cliffs: Most of the residents are graduates of the Crystal Cliffs Academy of the Glowing Arts, or sent over to be reformed by other empires (they used to be sent to the Overgrown, but Lady Katherine has proven less than talented at curbing murderous intent, she tends to exacerbate it). No one is a citizen of the Cliffs, most are just extended boarders. Even the Grand Wizard isn’t one, they may leave to return home at whim (though it is encouraged to pass on the hat if you do so for extended periods of time. Particularly if you are among the elderly, it’s rather difficult to retrieve once it’s become a family heirloom). Everyone knows everyone there, though you wouldn’t know it from how subdued they all seem. When it comes to sexuality and gender, the Cliffs are the most accepting (along with the Undergrove) being one of four to be actively supportive of you (rather than some variation of disinterested, uncaring, or some level disapproving in the case of Rivendell and the Overgrown). They are also one of two where it is frowned upon to not ask for pronouns, and one of five to normalize asking. If you were studious enough, or kind enough, to be accepted into the lands as a resident/boarder, you’ll do just fine.

The Overgrown: Much like Rivendell, those of the Overgrown tend to be rather prideful. To be a citizen you must have been blessed by the Watchers, gifted with a magical green thumb and a long life. Ruled by a central court of fae, the Overgrown has a strict hierarchy and the Watchers dictate who goes where. How else would someone who beheads anything and everything for a plushy business become the ruler of a pacifist people? It’s only because she has enough charisma to ally with every empire, and they are interested in these ones. It is their sacred duty to tend to and best utilize the crop of the Overgrown, and where you are in the ranks dictates your authority and access. The lowest aren’t permitted in the gardens, greenhouses, or field (these are the butchers, manufacturers, doctors, etc.)

The Ocean Empire: There has been one queen for longer than anyone can remember, herself included. No one knows exactly how old the empire is, though they do know it was before the seas retreated from the mountain shores. Until recently, the people have remained deep below the waves, unable to see the passage of time. Now they have risen, bringing a great palace to greet all of the new nations, most brimming with an unfamiliar but astoundingly strong power. They were the first, and will be the last. Their queen may hardly remember her power, but as long as she lives (as long as the oceans endure, rippling with primordial power) they will flourish. These people are reclusive, they obey the queen but otherwise stay in small family groups, the only consistent thing between them is the faith in the primordial gods and (for the most part) a distaste for salmon.

Mezalea: Unlike those of the desert, the people of the Mesa believe that life is only meaningful when one leaves a mark. Their land will endure enternally in the image of the king, and the structures will never fall to the sands. Their utmost faith in the ability to carve a personal path without outside influence prevents the corruption taking hold since demons rely on being able to influence others to gain power and survive.

The Undergrove: The other most accepting land, the land of mushrooms and wood is the bridge between nature spirits and civilization. The majority of the citizens are refugees or those who just needed somewhere safe. Everyone respects everyone and no one asks, sometimes people will share with others, but it’s not exactly common. Shrub will banish you at a moments notice if you don’t accept or respect others.

The Lost Empire: After a series of plotting Royals overthrowing each other, the nation is in shambles and is eager to rejoin the round table of empires when a new king, the son of the last legitimate one, takes the crown and sets out to rebuild their lands. These people are skittish and reserved, they are unquestionably loyal to their king, and welcomed Xornoth with his promises of power and stability with open arms.

Mythland: They are literally the stereotypical image of a medieval European kingdom with a popular and charismatic king. They are by far the most self-reliant empire, since they don’t focus too much on any singular aspect. The citizenry is primarily human and they put a particular emphasis on learning a craft.

The Cod Empire: The smallest empire, and the only one with citizens equally likely to call their king an idiot as they are to sing his praises. Adaptable and generally easygoing, a friend of the king is a friend of their’s. While there is an official council of advisors, most are able to propose a change as the Codfather does his daily errands and it will be considered.

Smallholding/The Beanstalk Kingdom: The other self-reliant empire, they have the largest (and probabky strongest) military, and no end to their food supply. Rulers are chosen by the people, generally are the strongest or the most helpful.

I got tired at the end, y’all can request elaboration on any and all of these :D

[ao3feed-tolkien]

Flower Hidden in the Pages

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/6NYsztl

by ActualRobot13

Lothuiallen is the newly promoted recordkeeper in the Kingdom of Mirkwood. The Elvenking is supposed to be constantly busy, but their paths are crossing more often than she would expect. Over time she comes to enjoy his company, but she won't entertain the thought that he would feel the same. She doesn't realize that her own love story has just begun.

Words: 923, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Thranduil (Tolkien), Original Elf Character(s), Original Female Character(s) of Color

Relationships: Thranduil (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Fluff, Librarians, elf academia aesthetic, Black Character(s), there aren't enough of them, so I made my own, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Not Beta Read

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/6NYsztl

[ao3feed-thehobbit]

Flower Hidden in the Pages

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/CGoRv1D

by ActualRobot13

Lothuiallen is the newly promoted recordkeeper in the Kingdom of Mirkwood. The Elvenking is supposed to be constantly busy, but their paths are crossing more often than she would expect. Over time she comes to enjoy his company, but she won't entertain the thought that he would feel the same. She doesn't realize that her own love story has just begun.

Words: 923, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Thranduil (Tolkien), Original Elf Character(s), Original Female Character(s) of Color

Relationships: Thranduil (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Fluff, Librarians, elf academia aesthetic, Black Character(s), there aren't enough of them, so I made my own, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Not Beta Read

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/CGoRv1D

[nyebevans]

@elvenkings replied to your post:

are you doing your librarian MA as your first MA or second? asking just bc i've been really wanting to do a mlis but i'm 6 months into my classics ma and don't have the funding to do a second 😔

it’ll be my second masters - funding is such a big issue, especially for things like librarianship where people are often coming at it after already doing a masters in a different subject. i don’t really know the answer to it, but there are some grants and funds for LIS students at certain unis.

otherwise, working to fund the masters is a v popular option (most ppl i know, probably including myself, will be working full-time and doing a librarianship MA via modular/part-time distance learning - sheffield and aberystwyth both offer their courses via distance learning). of course i’m coming from a uk perspective, so probably not super helpful if you’re based in the us, unfortunately :( good luck with it, though - i hope you get to do the mlis eventually!

[mimilind]

The Librarian and the Elvenking - Part 4

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 1800

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

♕ ✧ ♕

4. The Elvenking

With new books to keep you company, time passed much faster in your confinement. In the morning, when you were deeply engrossed in the Sindarin history book, you were surprised to see Galion walking up to your cell. You had not seen the ginger guard since you were brought here three days ago.

“I have orders to take you to the king.”

You nodded. The request was not wholly unexpected.

When entering the throne room a while later, you instantly recognized it from the art book. The artist had not quite made it justice; it was magnificent, every surface smooth and gleaming, and the sheer size was intimidating. 

Your eyes were drawn to the throne and the ellon who sat there, and you were not surprised when you saw who it was. Ú-eneth really did have a name, and that name was Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm.

He wore much finer clothes now; an elegant robe woven in silver threads, and on his fingers were all the extravagant rings you had seen that first time in Dale. An uncomfortable looking crown rested on his pale hair, constructed of thorny branches and autumn leaves. Underneath it, his face was stern, and he made no sign of recognizing you. 

So this was the game he was playing. You decided to play along, for now – but king or no, you wouldn’t let him bully you. King Thranduil had kept you locked up for no reason at all, and since he obviously had had time to come speak with you incognito, he could have summoned you officially much earlier than this. For some reason he had wanted to delay that – and you thought you knew why, too, and could even pardon it – but before you did, you wanted an apology.

Galion brought you to the foot of the steps leading up to the throne. You bowed politely, and then met the king’s cool gaze. You had to stretch your neck to do so.

“My guards tell me you have trespassed on my land, and even interrupted my people’s feast.”

“I have, my lord, but accidentally, and with no ill intent.” Again you described how the warg had chased you into the forest, forcing you to abandon your library.

As you spoke, the king assumed a thoughtful face. “I see.” He turned to a group of well-dressed elves on his right side; courtiers or advisors presumably. “It seems the librarian is truthful. Can someone bring the items we found when tracking the warg?” 

One of them bowed and left. Meanwhile, the king’s penetrating eyes landed on you again. “Even so, you have trespassed, and the law is firm in such matters. There must be consequences.”

Despite knowing his other, softer side, you felt a twinge of unease. He wouldn’t really punish you, would he?

The courtier returned, carrying a large tray. You couldn’t hold back an excited squeal when you saw what was on it: a stack of your books! They looked no worse for wear.

“I couldn’t carry all of them, but here is a sample,” the courtier said.

You gave the king a wide, happy smile. “You rescued my books! Oh, thank you, Ú-… Uh, my lord.” 

Thranduil’s face remained neutral, but his eyes sparkled. You realized he must have ordered his people to salvage your books as soon as you first told him you had lost them. Every last ounce of intimidation left you then; this was still the ellon you knew, though he had to put up a show for his court. 

And perhaps part of his majesty act was to let you see another side of him – in an answer to your request yesterday. Was he afraid it would turn you against him? If so, he hid it well. 

“This is my decision: in punishment for your trespassing, you shall copy these books for me, so I can add them to the royal library.”

Whispers spread among the assembled. Clearly, the king’s words had surprised them, and you remembered he had said the library had been closed since the queen died. How long ago was that?

“And aye, this means the library will be reopened,” he added.

This produced an excited buzz from the audience, and you were glad of the distraction. Your mind was working hard. As soon as you heard the so-called punishment, you knew Thranduil had racked his brain to come up with something that would appease his court, but not be unpleasant to you. He knew you liked copying books, and in addition it would keep you here a while longer, giving him the opportunity to make amends.

The problem was, you didn’t want to start a friendship with Thranduil on these terms, as a convicted criminal, working off your debt. 

You waited until the bystanders had silenced before speaking. “What if I find your sentence unjust, and refuse it? You know my trespassing was an accident.” 

All eyes turned to you, and the murmurs changed into sounds of annoyance. How dare this Noldorin librarian question the Woodland Law?

“Refuse?” He raised one of his formidable eyebrows. 

You nodded, regarding him closely. 

“Then I would deem your books forfeit and banish you.” His face betrayed no emotions, but his shoulders had grown tense. 

“I see. Well, I shall have to think about this. Can someone take me back to my cell?”

The angry murmurs around you grew louder, and the king’s cheeks colored slightly. You didn’t want to upset him, but you also couldn’t silently accept injustice. If you decided to take his punishment, you would at least make it clear it was not done lightly.

Thranduil gave a curt nod to Galion, who led you out of the room. 

“I’m trying to figure out whether you are very brave, or very stupid,” he said when the tall doors closed behind you. His voice was full of mirth. 

“Probably both.” You sighed. 

“It will work out, I am sure. He likes you.”

“I know,” you conceded. “That’s not where the problem lies.”

♕ ✧ ♕

Back in your cell, you picked up the artbook and distractedly turned its pages while waiting for the visitor you knew would come. It took longer than you had estimated; your friend was obviously quite as stubborn as yourself, but finally, late in the afternoon he entered the jail. He was alone as usual, but unlike before, he wore all his finery except for the crown. It suited him.

“What is it you want me to do?” Thranduil sounded tired.

You put down the book and met him at the barred cell door. “I don’t know.” 

“I thought you would like to copy books,” he said a bit sullenly.

“I would. And I appreciate the effort. It’s just… Not this way.” You tried to catch his gaze. “Thranduil… Why didn’t you tell me who you were from the beginning?”

His eyes flicked to yours before he turned them down. “I always go incognito to Dale. Ever since I fired my butler, I have had to do my wine purchases in person. Remember what I told you about the importance of choosing right? I couldn’t find anyone else I trusted with the task.”

“I bet you didn’t search too hard. You enjoy going out, don’t you?” 

“Perhaps.” He smiled briefly. “Aye.”

“Look. I get that you didn’t want to drop your cover in Dale,” you said. “But when I came here, there was no reason to keep up the pretense.”

“I know.” He colored slightly. “I have treated you unjustly.”

“You have.”

His blush deepened. “I am sorry. I have no excuses at all. It was… purely selfish.”

Your chest filled with a flood of warmth. This. This was what you had needed to hear. Taking one of his hands and pressing it earnestly, you said: “I understand. Apology accepted.”

Finally he met your gaze, obviously a bit surprised to have been let off so easily, but then he squeezed your hand back. “Thank you.”

Looking down at his large hand between yours, you traced his rings with your fingertip. They were beautiful, yet masculine, resembling branches and roots, and one of them was shaped like a rolled up snake.

“You didn’t seem surprised to discover who I was,” he said, leaning his forehead against the cell bars. 

A faint scent of herbs from his soap reached your nostrils. It felt strangely intimate to stand this close, despite the iron separating you. 

“I had guessed,” you replied. “Your hints made it rather obvious after a while.” 

“I wanted to tell you sooner. It was just… I…”

“You don’t have to explain; I really do understand. You wanted to keep what we had… An uncomplicated friendship.”

“Am I that transparent?”

“I can read you like an open book,” you teased. 

He snorted. “You never cease to surprise me, that is for sure.” Then he turned serious again and sighed. “Whatever shall I do about you? I don’t want to banish you.”

“Then don’t.” You shrugged. “You could change the law, couldn’t you? You’re the king, after all. There has to be some perks.”

“I would become a laughing stock.” He shook his head, but you could see he was really considering it.

“Maybe pretend the clever librarian charmed you into losing your good sense?” You grinned.

“I would not have to pretend that.” His eyes met yours. This close, they drew you in, making you drown in their blue depths. 

“Sorry to have caused your loss of good sense,” you murmured. 

“Don’t be.” He reached through the bars and softly cupped your cheek.

You gave in. Leaning forward, you let your lips meet his. 

It was a light, tentative kiss, and when you broke it shortly afterwards you wondered how wise it had been. Had you lost your good sense too?

“I am going to release you,” he said. “Let my people laugh all they want.”

But you had another idea. “Nay. Get me my guard. I want to be taken to the king!”

“What?” 

“I have made my decision. Take me to the throne room.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t do anything stupid now.”

“Never. Trust me!” 

After a brief hesitation, he gave your knuckles a quick peck. “I trust you.” 

You grinned happily, and when he returned it with one of his rare, dimpled smiles, your chest filled with a cloud of butterflies and your knees went weak. 

“Has anyone told you what an incredibly attractive smile you have?”

He actually laughed at that, a rich, contagious laugh that warmed you inside out. “Not in a long time,” he admitted. “I shall see you soon, then.”

♕ ✧ ♕

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[mimilind]

The Librarian and the Elvenking - Part 5

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 1940

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

♕ ✧ ♕

5. Under the Linden Tree

When you arrived at the throne room not long afterwards, you found the grand hall packed with elves. Apparently the gossip had spread far.

“My lord King.” You bowed eloquently, carefully checking your features as you did so. It wouldn’t do to come before the Elvenking with a silly, giddy smile plastered on your lips. 

He nodded his head in acknowledgement, keeping an absolutely deadpan face, but he couldn’t hide the dancing merriment in his eyes. 

“You wanted an audience with me,” he stated.

“I did, my lord, and thank you for accepting me on such short notice. I have come to let you and the court know my choice regarding my judgment.”

The large room went still when everyone pricked up their ears.

“And?” He cocked an eyebrow. 

“I still don’t think the decision to punish my involuntary trespassing was justified, but I understand that the law is rigid in this realm, with no leeway. Therefore, out of respect for you as king, and the long withstanding friendship between my family in Imladris and the fair forest of Eryn Lasgalen, I shall accept the penalty laid upon me and copy the books for your library.” 

Thranduil was silent at first, and you could almost see his mind working. Then a hint of a smile began to toy in the corners of his mouth, and he replied with equal politeness: “I am very pleased by your gracious cooperation, and in fact, so strengthened in my good opinion of you that I have found a minor adjustment of the Woodland Law to be required.” Turning to his courtiers, he continued. “Surely refugees should be able to safely enter our realm, without fear of repercussions?”

Obviously realizing the king’s mind had already been made up, his advisors gave affirmative answers with various degrees of enthusiasm. Many of them cast sly glances in your direction, probably rightly suspecting the cause of this unusual leniency, and wondering what you were to their ruler.

Returning to you, Thranduil continued: “According to the improved law, you are no longer guilty of any charges, but you are welcome to stay here as my personal guest for as long as you wish. It is only fair, after being treated so harshly. Perhaps the reopened royal library holds a volume or two that may interest you for your own establishment?” His eyes conveyed a world of emotions, and your throat constricted with happiness. This was almost becoming too good to be true. 

“I would be honored to visit your library, which according to my sources contains both interesting history books and brilliant art. But I must also insist on copying my own books for your benefit. It would be my sincere pleasure to help you expand your collection.”

“That is settled then.” He broke into a radiant smile, which made your heart beat faster and the courtiers gasp with surprise.

♕ ✧ ♕

Thranduil paused outside a low fence. “This is the herb garden, though much is wilted this time of year. The sage has lovely flowers in the summer.” 

It was already growing dark; the first stop of your tour had been at the royal library, from where he had had a hard time dragging you away to see the rest of the palace, and the next stop in the wine cellars had been lengthy on his account. 

“Beautiful,” you agreed. You were looking at his face in profile, not at the plants, and judging by the slight twitching of his lip, he knew that.

You had been truthful; he really was extraordinarily handsome. In the waning daylight his hair glowed like spun silver, and his long lashes cast shadows on his strong cheekbones. Tearing your gaze away from him was almost harder than walking away from a library full of alluring new books.

Another hardship was keeping up the polite small talk during this tour, when really you wanted to speak of so many more interesting topics. But with Thranduil’s entourage within hearing range, there wasn’t much to be done about it. He was a king and only rarely alone; one who wanted to be his friend must get used to that.

“Here is also a view for sore eyes.” Thranduil indicated an opening between the trees, where the river glittered pink in reflection of the sunset sky, but his eyes were resting on you. 

“Indeed. I can look at it all day,” you mumbled, meeting his gaze with a fluttering heart.

“There is one last place I want to show you,” he said, suddenly turning serious, almost grave. 

You suspected you knew where that was, and when he took you to a secluded, walled garden with unmistakable linden branches reaching out from above the other trees, your suspicions were confirmed. He wanted you to meet his wife.

The guards and attendants stayed outside the gate, and you felt their eyes on your back when Thranduil led you inside. “Nobody but Legolas and I can come here,” he explained in a subdued voice. “Unless they have my permission, of course.”

“Legolas. Your son.”

“Aye.”

“I heard he established a new elvish realm in Ithilien. How do you feel about that?” You took his hand, glad to be alone with him at last.

He entwined his fingers with yours. “I was angry at first. What was wrong with this realm, where he already was prince and heir? But I have come to terms with it now, and in a way, I am proud of his achievements too. He accomplished some great things during the War, and if he is happy down there in the south, then I ought to be happy too. For his sake.”

“But he left you. To a… what was it you called it? Involuntary solitude.”

“He did.” Thranduil gave you a sheepish glance. “But a wise elf once told me I can make new friends.”

“Very good advice.”

You had arrived at the huge linden in the center of the garden. Its leaves were a bright yellow now, and on one branch hung a swing. You had seen it in his drawing, with his young son riding in it.

“This is my wife. Or what remains of her… I have no way of telling how aware she is of her surroundings.” 

You dropped his hand and went closer, stroking the smooth trunk and gazing up into its colorful, autumn shrouded crown. “She’s beautiful,” you breathed. 

Thranduil came up to you on silent feet, and you felt his arm around your shoulders.

“Do you think she would mind, if…” you broke off, suddenly shy about giving words to your thoughts.

“...if I remarried?” He pulled you closer. 

“That, aye.” You looked at your feet.

“I know she wouldn’t mind.”

“How?”

"Because right before she left me, she said I should try to meet someone – for Legolas' sake. So he would have two parents." You felt his fingers in your hair. "But I couldn't do it. There was nobody else for me, I thought. I could only love once – like most of us." He gently turned your face up to meet his gaze. "And then you came... Treating me like a person and not a king, and touching me... I cannot remember when I was last touched by anyone. I always have people around me, as you have noticed today, but they keep a careful distance. They are there, but not there; impersonal and respectful." He stroked your temple with his thumb. "I enjoyed being with you so much that I even had to make up extra errands in town to see you more often."

You placed your palm on his cheek. It was slightly damp. “I’m really happy to hear that I’ve made a difference.”

“You most certainly have. And I want to… I want to ask you something, but I hesitate because I worry for your sake.”

“Me? Why?”

“Who would want a grouchy, moody king on their hands and get nothing in return?” He smiled weakly. 

“Nothing? Having you would be everything. Can’t you see it?” You wiped away a tear from his cheek, and then had to wipe one off your own as well. “You have made me so happy these past months. I love talking with you, and just spending time together. I knew you were married, so I forbade myself to feel anything more than friendship. But honestly… That wasn’t easy.” 

He looked at you, at loss for words but with eyes that spoke all the more.

“I love you, Thranduil. I even loved Ú-eneth though I knew nothing about him.”

With a strangled sob he took you in his arms, and his lips met yours in a needy, passionate kiss which stole your breath away. 

When he finally answered, his voice was husky: “I love you so much. Will you marry me?”

“Aye. I will!” You pulled him in for another kiss.

Taking off one of his rings, he carefully thread it on one of the lower linden branches, murmuring something as he did so. Perhaps a final farewell to his first wife.

A breeze ruffled the tree's mighty fronds, and a single leaf floated down. You caught it in your open palms, admiring its perfect heart shape. Did this mean she accepted you as her successor? You chose to see it that way.

"I will order the rings and announce our engagement, but perhaps it is wise to wait for a while, and let the court get used to you?"

"I agree." You were certain they still thought you were an impostor, but you hoped to be able to change that and make new friends here. You usually had no problem earning people's trust; it came with the job.

Thinking about your job, another thought struck you. "Can I keep my library? I don't want to abandon my friends in town. Poor Liv and Ylva would worry sick if I never returned..."

"I will gladly build you as many libraries as you want. But... Must they be mobile? I want you here with me."

You chuckled at his worried look. "I wouldn't mind making it a permanent library in Dale, and I could hire someone to run it. That way I'd only have to go there once in a while and check on things. Maybe timing it with your errands in town?"

"Perfect!"

"Though... if I wanted to establish a new library elsewhere, perhaps my king and husband could get a vacation for a while and help me out? For example, don’t you think that the lovely Dorwinion country you spoke so warmly of needs one?"

"I am sure that could be arranged." Thranduil rewarded you with his dimples, and your legs turned into jelly. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed each dimple, and then his mouth, feeling him respond with poorly constrained fervor. 

The kiss lasted for what felt like an eternity. Finally you yielded completely to your emotions, and indulged yourself in him. Thranduil’s scent made you heady, and his muscular warrior’s body under your exploring hands set your own body on fire. For the first time you understood the texts you had read on the subject of love. It was something you had to experience; one of the few things you could not learn from a book.

When Thranduil and you left the garden much later, the sky had already turned completely dark, but in your hearts there was a new light. Soon you would be wed together, body and soul, and after that even death couldn’t keep you parted for long.

Your lonely days were over for good.

♕ ✧ ♕

A/N: This was the final part of this story, that I originally wrote for @raider-k​. Hope the rest of you enjoyed it too!

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[mimilind]

The Librarian and the Elvenking - Part 3

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 2700

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

♕ ✧ ♕

3. Prisoner

Your cell was not a dark, damp hole as you had feared; on the contrary, it was rather cozy with a narrow but comfortable bed, a stand with a washing bowl and a screened off privy. In addition, a warden brought you food and wine which you hungrily devoured, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

When you had eaten, however, it soon became very dull. Your active mind craved stimulation, and lying idly on a bed for hour upon hour grew torturous after a while. If only you had a book! Or two, or five… Or a blank sheet so you at least could scribble something down yourself. 

It was so lonely too. There were no other prisoners here, and the warden’s office was in another room. Whenever he brought you food, you tried to strike up a conversation, but the ellon apparently was of the strong, silent type, for he never replied.

On the second day you began pacing your cell; back and forth, back and forth, almost like a trapped animal in a cage. While walking, you recited old songs and tales under your breath.

“Must you murmur so annoyingly?” The jailer spoke for the first time. 

“Aye.” You scowled at him. “Tell your king to let me out. I have done nothing wrong.”

“Trespassing is wrong.” He dropped your breakfast tray in front of you and stomped out.

When he brought your lunch a few hours later, you noticed he had put wads of wool in his ears. Feeling annoyed and unusually prickly, you raised your voice until you were almost shouting your recitation. The warden slammed the door after him.

When it was supper time, another ellon came with your tray. You hurried to the metal bars shutting you in, grabbing them excitedly. “Ú-eneth… Sweet Elbereth be praised! Am I glad to see you!”

“Fancy finding a librarian down here.” He flashed you a smile; the first you had ever seen on his always so carefully neutral face. It brightened his features, enhancing his beauty even further – which should not be possible for one already so handsome. And had he had those dimples all along? 

A flutter of emotions blossomed in your chest, but you sternly smothered them; he was married, for Eru’s sake! You told yourself you were just happy to see a friendly face in this horrible place.

Ú-eneth opened the hatch to put your tray inside. You accepted it, but before he could withdraw his hands you caught one of them. “Don’t go.”

To your surprise, he didn't try to pull himself free. Instead he pressed your hand comfortingly. “I am sorry this happened to you. It must be frightening.” Still with your hand in his, he stretched out his long legs and sat beside the hatch, leaning his back against the bars.

You mimicked his actions, trying to find a comfortable position on the cold stone floor. “I’m not afraid. Not as such. More… angry.”

“Angry?”

“With the king. How can he imprison innocent bypassers without a trial? He must be an awful person. But don’t tell him I said so, or I will probably rot here until Dagor Dagorath.”

He was silent for a short while, but then he suddenly chuckled.

“What’s funny?” You frowned.

“He is an awful person sometimes; I agree.” He was still chuckling. “On this occasion, however, you must pardon the ellon. If he does not punish intruders, his subjects will find him weak and lenient.”

“I just wish he would get it over with already. This place is so confining and lonely.” You sighed. “I hate being alone.”

“I know.” He pressed your hand again. 

“At least now you are here.” You tried to sound more cheerful. “How did your wife like the Haradrim book?”

“Oh… that.” He paused. “I was… not quite honest with you about her.”

“No?” You were intrigued.

“She died. A long time ago.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Now it was your turn to press his hand. “But you will be reunited in Aman soon, I’m sure.”

“She is not– Uh… Thank you.” His voice was strained, and you decided to drop such an obviously painful subject. 

Busying yourself with your supper tray instead, you took a bite of a lovely fried partridge and a sip of red wine. 

You twirled the contents of your goblet appreciatively, recalling that Ú-eneth often came to Dale to purchase wine for the Elvenking. “This is excellent. Your choosing?” 

“Aye. From Dorwinion, if you heard of it?”

You hadn’t, but he was happy to describe it to you. Dorwinion was a beautiful region in the east, just by the Sea of Rhûn. The climate there was perfect for growing wine; with long, sunny summers and cooling breezes from the lake, and a fertile, red soil, which yielded grapes with an unusually rich and potent flavor. Endless vineyards climbed the hills and banks of the lake, and in the surrounding human settlements, most of the inhabitants worked with wine one way or another; on the vineyards, in the many wineries or as coopers building barrels. The latter were freighted along the River Running to Dale and sold there.

“Even though all barrels are produced in the same area, choosing wine is not an easy task,” Ú-eneth explained. “Each family produces their own brand, using secret recipes passed down from parent to child – and to further complicate matters, the quality of the grapes vary over the years. Rainy or cold summers add a sour flavor to the wine which I prefer to avoid. In my– In the collection here in the palace, I have spent a long time collecting the finest vintages, from the foremost vineyards – and many barrels are decades old. Even centuries, in some cases.”

You listened with interest. Your friend certainly was passionate about his task! His tale made you long to travel to Dorwinion and see everything he described – but confined down here, you could go nowhere. It was maddening.

When Ú-eneth had finished talking, a silence ensued; one of those peaceful silences occurring between two persons who had no need to fill it with trifling chatter. 

Slowly sipping the rest of your wine, your thoughts returned to his wife. Why had he pretended she was alive? Just an excuse to borrow the Haradrim book? You also wondered why he had stayed behind, if she died for such a long time ago, and not sailed west like so many others. Especially now after the war, scores of elves had gathered in the Havens, and all the oak woods for miles around the area had been felled to make timber for Círdan Shipwright’s builders.

Maybe he had children? 

You imagined Ú-eneth with an elfling on his lap, bouncing it up and down like on a pony, or perhaps reading aloud to it. The picture brought a smile to your lips at first, but then it made you think of books and you remembered your poor, abandoned mobile library. What was the weather out there? If it rained, the books would all be ruined. Hours upon hours of toil with ink and pen, all to waste.

“I wish I had my books.” You sighed. 

“You really do love them.” He sounded amused.

“I do. This place would be easier to bear with a book as a companion. But now I also worry they will be damaged.” You explained how you had left the carriage behind to escape the warg.

“How unfortunate.” 

When he said no more, you changed the topic to something less demure. “I didn't see you in the forest, at the hunting feast. Don’t you like dancing?”

“I love dancing.”

You expected him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Instead he let go of your hand and rose. “I must leave now. I have… things to do. But I will return tomorrow.” With mock gravity, he added: “Try to behave while I am away. The warden has complained.” 

“Oh!” You were a little embarrassed. “I’m normally very considerate.”

“I know.” He gave you another knee-weakening, dimpled smile. 

“You should smile more often,” you murmured. 

His smile waned. “I wish I could.” And then he left you to your thoughts.

♕ ✧ ♕

Cheered by Ú-eneth’s visit, you felt a little happier the next day despite the loneliness. You even refrained from talking loudly when the warden came with your morning meal.

Already at noon your friend was back, bringing you your lunch and a bulky, heavy parcel. You took the package with curiosity, and when you opened it your throat constricted with happiness. “A book!” 

Almost reverently you took out a large, leather bound tome, and read the golden Tengwar on its spine: “‘Of the Sindar, by Melian the Maia.’ How interesting to read her perspective! My knowledge of your elven branch is a bit sketchy.” You met his gaze, and saw how pleased he was over your reaction. Grasping his arm through the bars, you pressed it warmly. “Thank you so, so much. You are a great friend in need!”

He broke eye-contact. “Not that great. But will you not look at the other two books?”

The next book was a romantic tragedy about two Silvan elves whose names you did not recognize, and lastly he had brought an art book. Turning up the first page of the latter, you gasped with awe. It pictured the bridge leading into the palace which you had seen the other day, and the detail was exquisite, from the moss and lichen on the old stones to the ripples on the water underneath. “Amazing,” you breathed, stroking the surface with your fingertip.

The next painting was from what must be the Elvenking’s throne room. The throne was high, crowned with huge elk antlers, and the ceiling was held up by tall pillars carved into the likeness of trees. This was where you would be brought to meet your judgement, whenever the king had time to spare for a lowly librarian.

On the third drawing you recognized the town square in Dale, and the following pages all had sketches of buildings and construction details from that town. 

“Such talent! The artist must love architecture. Do you know who drew these?”

“Aye.” He shrugged. “The king did. A long time ago, most of them.”

“You took these books from the Elvenking?”

“Only from his library. It has been closed for many decades, but… I have access.”

“The more I hear of that ellon, the more intrigued I get. Strict and dangerous, protective of his land – but also as it would seem, a book collector, and a brilliant painter.” You continued a few pages, and then halted. The style had suddenly changed. The colorful buildings and architecture were gone and replaced with pictures in grayscales, with rain as the main theme – raindrops falling on water, on stone, on trees. There was a certain degree of darkness in all of them; black shadows surrounding the edges of the sheet, drawn in sharp, hard lines. 

“I think these were made in anger, or perhaps grief,” you mused, turning the leaves slowly. 

“He drew them after the queen died.”

You looked up at him sharply. “He lost his wife too?”

“Aye. That was why he closed the royal library. It used to be hers.”

“I see,” you said slowly, a suspicion forming in your mind. Ú-eneth… No name…. Hm. Could he be…? 

But there was no use speculating. With time, you would find out.

Returning to the book, you browsed through the rest of the rain pictures and paused when the style changed for a second time. Now there were colors again, and the motif was a linden tree; painted so lifelike you could almost see it rustle in the wind and feel the earthy smell of its massive trunk. It was drawn from various angles and distances. In the final painting, a rope swing had been tied to one of the tree’s lower branches, and an adorable elfling sat in it. His blonde hair billowed behind him and there was laughter in his blue eyes. 

You were so immersed in the elfling picture that you almost jumped when Ú-eneth spoke again: “You asked me yesterday why I wasn’t at the feast. The truth is, I cannot stand seeing all the happy families and dancing couples there. It reminds me of my loss. And my… involuntary solitude.” His voice was low, and you knew without asking this was something he rarely spoke of – if ever.

Closing the book, you tried to meet his gaze, but he was looking at his hands, absentmindedly rubbing one of the white marks where he had worn rings the first time you met him. His wedding ring? 

“Don’t you have children?” you asked, the elfling in the picture still lingering in your mind.

“One. A son.” He sighed. “He moved far away to… Well, to build his own life, or something of that ilk. But we were never close. He and I are… Different, I guess. He takes after his mother.” Ú-eneth smiled weakly.

A son. Your suspicion from before strengthened.

“Even if you have no children or living relatives, you don’t have to be lonely,” you said. “Remember King Thingol and Melian.” You patted Melian’s book. “They adopted young Túrin after their daughter moved away.”

“Are you suggesting I adopt a human?” His lips twitched. “Besides, that tale didn’t end very well for Thingol, did it? Nor for Túrin.”

“It was just an example. But take Lord Elrond then. He lost his parents, and later his adoptive father. He lost his brother and his wife, and his daughter chose to be a mortal and moved far away to Gondor. Did he get lonely? Nay. He made friends with all races. Whenever anyone had a problem, they turned to Elrond; the dwarves, the hobbits, the human lords, even you Sindar went there sometimes.”

“Elrond! That ellon had no privacy at all.” 

“Maybe. But he was never lonely. And now he’s hopefully reunited with his many friends in Aman, and with his wife.”

His face fell. “That will not be the case for me.”

You took his hand through the bars again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There is not much to say. Her soul lingered after she died, and settled here in the forest. In her favorite tree. She didn’t choose Aman.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You remembered the look on his face every time his wife was mentioned. Why had she refused to be reborn? He must ask himself that too, every day, every time he saw that tree. Perhaps blaming himself. 

You wished you were wiser, and knew what to say in a moment like this. 

Then you remembered another tale of old. “But you may get a score of grandchildren – like Finwë. I mean, his wife was not reborn into Aman either, so it’s quite a similar case.” Finwë was one of the early elves in Arda, whose wife Míriel died after giving birth to their son Fëanor. Her soul was so tired it stayed in the Halls of Mandos afterwards, and Finwë therefore was one of the few elves in history who ever married twice. With the addition of the children his second wife gave him, he got an extraordinarily large family in the end.

“I doubt I shall have seven grandsons – or any. My son seems disinclined to marry. He spends all his time with other races, and recently befriended a dwarf of all people!”

“You could make a new friend too. Why not – a librarian?” you suggested lightly.

He met your gaze briefly, and then dropped it. “You don’t know me. If you did…” Instead of finishing the sentence, he slipped his hand from yours and turned away to leave.

“Then give me a chance to get to know you,” you said to his back.

He hesitated, still with his back turned. When he replied, his voice was barely audible: “I guess I should. I cannot keep you in the dark forever… Much as I’d like to.”

You wondered if he meant that literally or figuratively, but before you could ask he was gone.

♕ ✧ ♕

A/N: Linden trees are my absolute favorites, and if my soul had to settle in a tree, it would definitely be that kind! They have such a light green color and cute, heart-shaped leaves, and their flowers smell amazing. ♡ I had linden leaves in my wedding bouquet, together with roses and cornflowers. :) And my pen surname ‘Lind’ means linden in Swedish.

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[mimilind]

The Librarian and the Elvenking - Part 2

Gif source.

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 1600

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

♕ ✧ ♕

2. Into the Woods

“Glorfindel’s autobiography? Huh. Maybe I will give it a try.” Ú-eneth turned over a few leaves. 

The anonymous ellon had now read almost every book you had, some of them more than once. At first he had come seldom, probably timing his visits with errands in town, but by now he was here so often you suspected he came just to borrow books.

“And there is still ‘The Principles of Lust.’ Sure you don’t want to try it?”

He blushed. “I, uh… My wife wouldn't…”

“Oh, so you do live together then?”

His eyes narrowed. “That is none of your business.”

“Sorry.” That was a sore spot, apparently.

“I shall take this too.” He almost demonstratively put the Haradrim book in his bag. “She will love to try these things, I am sure.”

“Don’t be angry with me. I know I’m too nosy, but I guess it comes with the job. I care about my customers.” On an impulse, you gave him a hug. “Have a good journey home.”

He stiffened slightly, but he’d gotten used to your ways by now and didn't react as shocked as he would have done in the beginning. “Thank you. And I am not angry.”

You beamed at him. “I’m relieved. See you soon!”

“See you.”

♕ ✧ ♕

The next day you had an errand to a farmer village in the outskirts of Eryn Lasgalen. Because most of the inhabitants were too busy to make the long journey into town, you took your library carriage there every other month.

The trip would take a few days there and back, but you didn't mind getting away from Dale for a while. On the contrary; the country air was refreshing and you enjoyed the change of scenery.

Close to your destination the track went parallel to the woods for some miles. It was a lovely part of the journey; it was autumn, the air smelled fresh and earthy and the forest was alluring in its bright colors. Only a shame you could not enter it, but the Elvenking was strict about protecting his grounds and you had to respect that. You had heard rumors of his underground city with its dark dungeons, where poachers and trespassers were left to rot away indefinitely, and you had no intention to end up in such a place.

A noise from the nearby underbrush made Strider restless, prancing in his harness. It sounded almost like a barking dog. 

You sent the horse a calming thought, while at the same time feeling slightly nervous yourself. Had one of the farmer guard dogs gotten loose? They were large, fierce beasts trained to guard the property against wolves, and though you felt sure they wouldn't attack you they might scare Strider into a run. The path was not much more than wheel tracks in the turf, and you didn't want to break your carriage.

Suddenly the cause of the barking came charging straight against your equipage; an enormous warg! The wolf-like creature was almost as big as Strider, and you knew it could easily kill a horse – and an elf too, for that matter.

You didn't have to tell Strider to flee. He bolted towards the protection of the trees, with you and the carriage swaying behind, taking the corner on two wheels.

Thankfully this part of the forest consisted of beeches, and thus the ground was fairly easy to traverse with mostly a thick layer of fallen leaves under the carriage wheels. Despite that, it was a rough ride, and to your despair several books fell out from the back when the carriage bumped onwards. 

After a while your luck was over, for the environment changed, becoming a dense, moss-covered world full of fallen branches and old trunks. Here your carriage got stuck every other yard, and its wheels slipped on the mud. The warg was still on your heels, and you realized it would catch up with you unless you left your library behind.

Weeping internally over all your soon-to-be abandoned books, you released Strider from his harness and jumped onto his back. Hurry, my dear, you conveyed.

What do you take me for? Stupid? he retorted, increasing his pace now that the cumbersome burden was no longer holding him back.

Your horse was fast and the warg began to lag behind. Its fierce growls and barks grew distant, and soon you could no longer hear them at all. 

Strider’s flanks foamed with perspiration and his legs trembled. When he slowed down to a walk you looked around you in the semi-darkness under the dense foliage and wondered how you would ever find your way out. But hopefully the horse could trace his own steps back. That would have to wait a while longer, however; the warg might still be lurking nearby, or even tracking you. You had to continue deeper into the forest.

The surroundings grew increasingly darker, probably because the sun was setting. Spending a night deep in Eryn Lasgalen was not at the top of your list of enjoyable things to do, and in addition, you had heard there were giant spiders in it. Or had the Wood-elves killed them all after the war? You wished Ú-eneth was here so you could ask him.

Thinking about your friend made you realize you had quite grown to like the stiff old fellow. It would have been nice to have him around; trained warrior as you were sure he was. You remembered how it had felt to hug him the other day, how firm and flat his stomach had been and how strong his arms were around you when he awkwardly returned the hug.

Had he read the Haradim book yet? You wondered what his wife looked like. Your mind was wandering freely now, and you found yourself imagining your friend naked with an elleth, assuming all those acrobatic positions. 

In the middle of your daydreaming, a pleasant smell reached your nostrils, waking you up; roast meat. You heard faint voices too, and music. Finally some people! And perhaps a comfortable house where you could spend the night? You crossed your fingers.

You let Strider walk towards the sound, and soon saw a glimmer of light between the tree trunks. It grew brighter as you entered a glade full of elves; some eating and drinking, some engaged in pleasant conversation, others dancing in large circles around a firepit. The delicious smell came from a deer being roasted whole over the flames. 

Thank the Valar! You were saved! 

Throwing yourself off the horse you ran into the glade. “A warg!” you yelled. “A warg chased me. Please, are there any warriors here?”

The music instantly stopped, as well as the dancing and the merry chatter, and a score of not-very-friendly faces turned towards you. 

You were reminded that this was a forbidden area. But surely they would make an exception for someone who had run for their life?

A few elves who carried weapons mumbled among themselves in subdued voices. Then they divided; a small group disappeared through the trees in the direction you had come, hopefully to find the warg, while an elleth and an ellon went up to you. You didn't like the way they kept their hands hovering over the swords in their belts. Like they wanted you to know they could – and would – draw steel if necessary.

“This forest is the property of Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm,” said the ellon sternly. He had copper hair and was very muscular. “State your name and errand hither.”

“I know.” Turning your palms out to show your peaceful intent, you told them your name and explained your errand with the library. “I didn't mean to trespass, but the warg–”

“The law is the law,” said the elleth; tall and broad shouldered like an ellon, and with her blonde hair gathered in a long, thick braid. She turned to the ginger. “Galion, you take the horse.”

She bound your wrists while Galion called Strider to him. Thankfully he seemed to have a good hand with horses. 

“What’s his name?” he asked.

“Strider,” you admitted.

They chuckled at that, and you had to explain it was one of your customers in Bree who had named him. Apparently it was an old nickname of Elessar, the king of Gondor, and you actually found it rather fitting for the long-legged steed.

The guards took you along a barely visible path through the underbrush, until you reached a forested hill. A river passed through here, crossed by a stone bridge, and on the other side was a set of open double doors, guarded by an ellon on each side. 

The elleth said something silently to the guards, and one of them promptly disappeared inside. 

“What will happen to me?” you asked anxiously, eyeing the tunnel visible behind the doors.

“That is for the king to decide.” Galion gave you a sympathetic look.

“Is he as temperamental as they say?”

“Well… You don’t want to be nearby when he loses his temper, I can say as much.” 

“True.” The elleth chuckled. “Especially if you get drunk on his private wine!”

Galion blushed fiercely. “That was over a century ago. I wish people would stop bringing it up.”

“Never,” chuckled the elleth.

The guard returned. “The king wants the trespasser to be put in a cell for now.”

You shivered. “Will I not even get a chance to explain?”

“The king will probably summon you and deal out your sentence when he’s got the time,” said the elleth.

“Don’t worry. He is fair and just. And I will look after Strider well for you,” said Galion reassuringly.

You sighed. How long would that take? And what would happen to your poor books and library carriage in the meantime? Though admittedly, you felt slightly relieved you would not have to deal with the infamous Elvenking just yet.

♕ ✧ ♕

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

[mimilind]

My Replies:

Yes, I have gifted several, I often tag people when something they wrote inspired me to write the fic. The most recent was the Boromir fic Stranger of the Falls for @scyllas-revenge, inspired by her epic Burn Like Cold Iron. I've also written an Aragorn fic called Hooded Stranger for @i-am-darth-feanor, and a Thranduil fic called The Librarian and the Elvenking for @raider-k. The latter was inspired by her interpretation of him in her amazing Kingsfoil. The other people I've gifted fics to are not on Tumblr so can't tag them. :)

I have cut out scenes many times but I usually save them in my synopsis document. Just in case...

I would love to see Rose in the Caribbean, my Pirates/Titanic crossover, as a movie. :)

My most common tag must be hurt/comfort lol.

If Perfect Balance of Darkness and Light (Haladriel) was an ice cream flavor it would be dark, sinful and bold: whisky and cream with streaks of dark chocolate, a pinch of chili and a cherry on top!

My Recs:

Dragon Deception is a Silmarillion fix-it I'm pretty proud of, where Túrin gets a happy ending.

An Informative Book is a humorous, light smut one-shot about Legolas' wedding night. He doesn't know how to do the deed. ;)

Matched From Birth is my wip about Legolas and Thranduil and their wives. It's centered around an arranged marriage and features family secrets, moral dilemmas, friendship and personal growth... It's nearly finished with only two chapters left and will be completed in two weeks tops. :)

HAPPY MONDAY, FELLOWSHIP! 💜

Here at Fellowship of the Fics, we want to get to know you as authors, just as we want to hear about your stories! Each month we will have five selected questions that we encourage you to answer as a way to help promote yourself!

Simply reblog this post and answer the questions provided. This is about YOU and YOUR creations! We encourage self-bragging as much as possible!

HERE ARE THE QUESTIONS FOR NOVEMBER 2023!

What fics have you gifted/dedicated to someone?

Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it? If so, why?

If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

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NOW, SHARE UP TO 3 OF YOUR FICS YOU’D LIKE TO RECOMMEND TO US AND YOUR FOLLOWERS!

[mimilind]

The Librarian and the Elvenking (Complete)

Summary: You bring Middle-earth's first mobile library to Dale, near former Mirkwood. Soon an anonymous, touch-starved elf begins to frequent your service, and you wonder what happened to make him so lonely. Accidentally imprisoned in King Thranduil's dungeons, you discover the true identity of your borrower.

For @raider-k​

♕ ✧ ♕

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader (no specified gender)

Tumblr Links: [ 1. The Anonymous Borrower ] [ 2. Into the Woods ] [ 3. Prisoner ] [ 4. The Elvenking ] [ 5. Under the Linden Tree ]

AO3 Link: The Librarian and the Elvenking

Note: There is also an OC-version of the story in AO3.

Rating: T

Complete Word Count: 10 000

Tags: Feel-good, fluff, humor, touch-starved, secret identity, prisoner, wholesome, happy ending

Warnings: None

♕ ✧ ♕

[mimilind]

Masterlist

Profile Pages: AO3 · Inkitt · Wattpad · FFN, username Mimi_Lind - or read more about me in this blog.

Below is a list of my fics. Follow the links for summaries, tags, word count etc.

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My Fics:

Lord of the Rings

Cat of the Fellowship (Legolas x OC, Boromir x Nellas) - adventure/humor, T

Riding With the Elves (Legolas x OC) - adventure, T

Matched From Birth (Legolas x OC, Thranduil x secret Tolkien character) - romance, M

Thranduil’s Shadow (Thranduil x Canon Wife (OC)) - romance/angst, M (WiP, not complete)

The Rings of Power

Perfect Balance of Darkness and Light (Halbrand x Galadriel) - romance, M

Silmarillion

Dragon Deception (Túrin x Finduilas) - romance/angst, T

Pirates of the Caribbean / Titanic (crossover)

Rose in the Caribbean (Jack Sparrow x Rose DeWitt Bukater) - adventure/humor, T

Shadow and Bone (Grisha Trilogy)

Student of the Shadow Summoner (Aleksander (Kirigan) x OC) - romance, M

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My X-Reader:

Lord of the Rings

Hooded Stranger (Aragorn x Reader)

Sent to Middle-earth (Legolas x Reader)

The Librarian and the Elvenking (Thranduil x Reader)

Stranger of the Falls (Boromir x Reader)

Harry Potter

A Magical Classmate (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Pirates of the Caribbean

The Stowaway Passenger (Will Turner x Reader)

Shadow and Bone

The Darkling's Student (Aleksander (Kirigan) x Reader)

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My Short Stories:

Lord of the Rings/Hobbit

Healing Music (Thranduil’s butler Galion x OC) - romance, T

The Fruit (Thranduil, child Legolas, Elrohir & Elladan) - humor, G

An Informative Book (Legolas x OC) - romance/humor, M