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rivendell-poet · 4 months ago

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*･༓˚✧❝𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐑)❞‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « scenarios »

○ Aragorn ○ Legolas ○ Frodo ○ Sam ○ Merry ○ Pippin ○ Boromir ○ Faramir ○ Éowyn ○ Éomer ○ Bard ○ Thranduil ○ Tauriel ○ Lindir ○ Haldir ○ Elladan ○ Elrohir ○

No TWs | GN!Reader | Wordcount : 3.3k (each individual around 190~ words) | Read on Ao3

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𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐧

✧ When you get to Rivendell the first thing you do is rush to Frodo’s side - checking he’s ok and thanking the healers.

✧ The second thing you do is take in the beauty of Rivendell, eyes going wide as you see the home of the elves in all its splendour.

✧ He’s walking with you and showing you Rivendell, eyes lighting up almost as much as yours when you see the sights - except the light in his eyes and the smile on his face come from your happiness.

✧ Taking note of what makes your eyes shine brightest, he begins to tour more specifically with your preferences in mind.

✧ As you turn around to express your love of something, he realises he’s too focused on trying to capture every inch of your beauty - especially while being in awe like that - that he misses the question.

✧ Aragorn hopes he isn’t blushing too much when he asks you to repeat the question, this time quickly answering it to the best of his abilities.

✧ The next room captures your attention, and Aragorn instinctively goes back to watching you and laughing with you before he realises what he’s doing.

✧ It’s then he realises the blush on his face isn’t because of embarrassment - but because he likes you.

𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬

✧ Legolas is enjoying his time in Imladris, with one of the greatest things being the company. There is you, of course, and the rest of the Fellowship - but it is also nice to spend some time with fellow elves (who aren’t his subjects).

✧ Or, almost fellow elves, such as the sons of Elrond. He has always been intrigued by them, not just for the heritage, and it’s good to spend time with the two. Eventually, in a conversation with Elrohir, the topic finally comes up.

✧ “What is it like, living with Lúthien’s gift?”

✧ “Gift?” Elrohir looks at the elf, “Most call it a choice. Is there a reason you ask? A… someone you ask for?”

✧ His immediate reaction is to say no, and that he is just curious, but then he thinks harder. Is there someone he would stay on Middle Earth for?

✧ As he thinks, an image of the two of you - bow in your hand and grinning at him, bathed in sunlight - comes into his mind. And his mind subconsciously answers the question. If you would have him, he would answer yes.

✧ The elf stays silent, and Elrohir gives a knowing look, before speaking briefly. Offering some advice, and congratulating Legolas on at least figuring out his feelings.

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐨

✧ Frodo realised he liked you from just about the second he laid eyes on you - you were unlike anyone he had ever known, and that excited and fascinated him.

✧ He expected the crush to go away, eventually, once the novelty wore off and you were known to him as a friend.

✧ Except it never did. With every new smile he saw from you, every word, every laugh falling from your lips - he slowly became more and more enamoured by you.

✧ It was after yet another night that you’d come round for dinner, it was becoming a regular (and welcome) occurrence that he truly realised he didn’t just have a crush.

✧ Frodo was in love with you.

✧ When he’d finally closed the door, watching as you’d walked away, he could still feel the red on his cheeks - and could see the knowing smile Bilbo gave him when he’d turned around.

✧ Patting him on the back, Bilbo had given the young hobbit words of support and encouragement - a twinkle in his eye as he hinted this love may not be unrequited.

𝐒𝐚𝐦

✧ Sam had seen you in and around the Shire a few times before, stopping briefly to look at you before going back to what he was doing.

✧ At first he’d thought it was just him being observant, until Pippin had been over and pointed out that of all the hobbits in the Shire - he’d only stop to look at you.

✧ He was mortified to realise what he'd been doing, and had thrown himself back into his work with much more vigour. Trying to stop himself from being distracted, again.

✧ It works ok, but while in the Green Dragon Pippin assures him that the comments weren't meant in a bad way, and that they were all glad Sam had 'found someone'.

✧ Sam almost isn't sure what they mean, until he thinks back to all the times he's seen you - the times he's blushed. The very small interactions you two have had, that have then lightened his day.

✧ It's thanks to Pippin's teasing he realises he has a crush on you, and then thanks to Frodo when he can finally interact with you.

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲

✧ Merry realised he liked you from the second he laid eyes on you.

✧ And not in a silly, young-hobbits-in-love type of crush - but something that reminded him of the story books he'd read as a child.

✧ The ones that said when you met the one for you, you'd feel sparks like Gandalf's fireworks and you'd just know.

✧ He did just know, taking the first opportunity he could to talk to you; talking to you felt even easier than most, as though you were a lifelong friend and not just a stranger.

✧ Every time you make eye-contact, he searches in your eyes for the spark he so clearly feels in his - and when he makes you laugh for the first time he's delighted to see it appear (however briefly).

✧ Each passing day cemented this feeling even more, but he still believes it was love at first sight (for him at least).

𝐏𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧

✧ When the two of you first met, Pippin thought you were an angel (an opinion he still holds, in some regards). The second he realised you were of Middle Earth, he also realised he was blushing like a fool.

✧ He knows the attraction isn't just superficial from the day he meets you, but he also sees it as a crush at the start.

✧ And then he starts to spend time with you.

✧ You make him laugh, he makes you laugh. He makes you smile, you make him smile just by being there.

✧ It's also at this time when he realises that what he feels for you isn't just a crush.

✧ He likes, no - loves, every part of you. And to call it simply a crush would be an insult to his heart.

𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐫

✧ Like a lot of the soldiers of the White City, his spirits are high as he watches from Osgiliath, eagerly awaiting the return of the rangers, if only for a little while.

✧ Most of the men are looking forward to the night of celebrations and drinking, although some are more looking forward to seeing their loved ones come home.

✧ Boromir is looking forward to seeing his little brother come home - but he isn’t just looking forward to seeing his little brother. Faramir isn't the only one he dearly misses.

✧ As Captain, he’s in prime position when the rangers come in; immediately identifying the two of you and going over.

✧ He pulls Faramir into a hug before looking at you with a grin, unsure of what to do before you embrace him as well.

✧ Instantly, he hugs back - just as firm and confident as with Faramir’s hug - but inside he can feel his heart almost beating out of his chest.

✧ The grin is still on his face as he comes out of it, and when you begin to talk his heart calms down, although only a little.

✧ It’s only then when he realises his heart isn’t beating fast around you because you’re nervous, but because he loves you.

𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐫

✧ Faramir knew he liked you from the second he laid eyes on you, even if he was slightly too drunk to realise just how deep it went at the time.

✧ He truly didn’t drunkenly hook-up with people, but he did tend to gravitate towards people he liked. People like you, even when you were in the dark corner. Especially when you were in the dark corner.

✧ And of course, he had kissed you back. The only reason he didn’t try to take it further was because he could smell the alcohol on both of you.

✧ When he had woken up the next morning, he regretted that he had not gotten your name (and the slight hangover).

✧ Then when he saw you, lined up as one of Boromir’s potential betrothed, he could feel his heart do two things.

✧ Skip, at the sight of you again. And drop, at the idea you didn’t love him back.

𝐄𝐨𝐰𝐲𝐧

✧ Staring after Aragorn, Éowyn takes a deep breath, trying to remain calm. From chasing him down, and telling him that she knows looking after the children brings honour (without renown). But she should be allowed to seek honour in other places.

✧ And then she feels a hand rest on her shoulder, calming, as she turns around to see you behind her.

✧ You can see her thought process, and tell her that you aren’t here to override your brother’s - or her king’s - orders. But you are here to give her this.

✧ When you press the sword into Éowyn’s hands, finely polished and gleaming perfectly, she can barely think of the words to thank you before she notices your traditional sword is missing.

✧ Instantly, she realises what you’ve given here and tries to give it back - but you keep it firmly in her hands.

✧ “There are many fine weapons in this armoury. Think of it as my gift to you, for now. A promise that I will be coming back to collect it."

✧ "Besides, it brings me comfort that if orcs get into the caves they shall find a warrior there.”

✧ Taking your hand away from the sword you disappear to follow Aragorn, and Éowyn is left holding it. As she watches the two of you leave together, she realises that she may have fallen in love with the wrong sibling (at least at first).

𝐄𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫

✧ When orcs are spotted within Rohan's borders, in two separate places no less, Éomer immediately takes action.

✧ It's bad luck you're on the second group of riders sent out, and worse when you haven't arrived back when Éomer does.

✧ He tries to reassure himself that it's simply bad luck, and nothing dangerous has happened, but by the second day his nerves get the better of him.

✧ With Éowyn he sets out to wait next to the gate you'll ride in from - a traditional practice.

✧ While waiting, he takes the time to look around and sees who else waits for the riders. When women there bat their eyes at him he ignores it until he realises something.

✧ Éomer is one of the only men there, and the only one not blood-related to the rider he is waiting for. Almost everyone else here is a parent, a sibling, or a lover.

✧ So where does that leave him?

✧ He feels blush begin to rise on his face as he realises precisely which one he is. Or, more accurately, which one he wishes to be for you.

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐝

✧ Begrudgingly, Bard watches you leave for the final patrol of your shift before laughing as he sees Tilda’s pout when she looks at you going as well.

✧ Looking up at him, she huffs even more; declaring that it isn’t fair he’s allowed to smile while you’re here and while you're away.

✧ He responds that you’re good company, but he can be happy without you - and that’s a good thing.

✧ Then Tilda looks up at him with a doubtful expression. Announcing that he looks extra happy, and his face turns a bit red like when Bain had that fever one time. Or when Sigrid looks at the neighbour's kid, except she shouldn’t tease her sister about that because it’s ‘feelings’.

✧ As pleased as Bard is that his children are taking his lessons to heart, he’s less pleased about her observations.

✧ Keeping walking, Bard tries to reassure her that that’s not what’s going on with him and you - but internally he’s truly thinking about it.

✧ About the fact you’re the first person to make him smile like that for the first time in… a while.

✧ The fact he always lets his kids go up to you because then he can talk to you, and the fact he talks to you even if the kids aren’t with him.

✧ It’s then Bard realises that, somehow, his children have worked out he likes you before he has.

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐢𝐥

✧ Thranduil had barely noticed that the biweekly meetings had become less formal, and more about the two of you spending time together.

✧ He hadn’t noticed that most of the time you spent talking was just about the two of you, and no longer about his son.

✧ The thing that made him notice just how special these meetings became was when, while watching you leave, he could feel his smile.

✧ There was a warmth in him that wasn’t just from the wine, or the fireplace, and instead a warmth because he felt comfortable.

✧ Around you, he could be himself. Not much changed, of course, but something about being near you felt freeing, and as though he was understood.

✧ A feeling he had not felt in a long time, but a feeling he nonetheless welcomed - especially when it was you that warmed his heart.

𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥

✧ Both of you had managed to get into the royal guard - you getting into the king’s guard, while she began to work with the prince.

✧ It was while she was taking a break, eating in one of the soldier’s halls, when Alinar (a fellow guard) had come up to her with a grin. “So, you and them, right?”

✧ Trying not to sigh, Tauriel gave a quick answer that no, she was not interested in the prince before Alinar began to laugh. Explaining he hadn’t been teasing about her and Legolas, but her and you.

✧ “Anyone with eyes can see you look at them like they’ve got a fourth elven ring, Tauriel. You’re really not subtle.”

✧ She continues to deny, swatting him away, although this time it’s more on principle. Not because she doesn’t like you.

✧ Because… she does look at you that way. You are magnificent, and wondrous, and she does want to be more than your friend.

✧ As you walk into the hall, you look over to the empty space besides her and immediately come over - and she wonders if she normally blushes this much when you smile at her.

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐫

✧ Staring at the new poems he’s written, Lindir wonders to himself when his inspiration went from nature and the Valar to… love.

✧ He can still recognise the work as his own, the same metaphors and adoration for his subjects, but he never considered writing romance. Or writing about someone romantically - because he knows that all his works have a muse.

✧ Re-reading the lines over, he tries to imagine the different elves of Imladris fitting into this prose but none of them do.

✧ Deciding to leave it for later, Lindir takes the scrolls and keeps them with him - resolved in going to the library.

✧ On his way there, you cross paths with him - immediately smiling and asking how his day was.

✧ It’s there, looking ethereal against the backdrop of Imladris and roses, that Lindir realises the subject of his new writings.

✧ You are his new muse.

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐫

✧ Haldir had felt a spark from the first moment you had interacted, your bow drawn - placed in front of your allies and standing as though it would need a thousand warriors to fell you.

✧ These feelings hadn’t even gone away as you let the arrow fly, only afterwards realising he’s not a threat and batting it out of the air.

✧ When you start to apologise he easily stops you, stating that it’s a relief that the Fellowship is travelling with a skilled warrior like yourself.

✧ Watching you go to the Lady Galadriel, he tries to untangle what he’s feeling for you. Is it simply admiration? Or is it something more?

✧ Seeing you alone and clearly wanting to move, he approaches you after the meeting - offering to show you around Lothlórien.

✧ It’s for a somewhat selfish motive, as he wants to try and realise what his feelings are.

✧ And, as his heart seems to lift when you look around and finally seem happy, he understands what his heart wants.

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐧

✧ It’s the day after their birthday, finally in their first century, when Elrohir wakes his brother up by poking him.

✧ Elladan is still sleepy, but he’s aware enough to ask what his twin thinks he’s doing.

✧ “I want to know why you didn’t confess, brother dearest.”

✧ The sing-song voice is annoying, but Elladan still gives the question some thought. Confess? About what? Or confess to someone?

✧ Seeing his brother clearly isn’t going to get it, Elrohir lets out a sigh before directly name-dropping you. He’s instantly rewarded with seeing a heavy blush, before poorly spluttered denial about you simply being a friend.

✧ Looking directly into Elladan’s eyes, he speaks again. “Brother, I have watched the two of you dance around each other for almost a century. Sometimes I think I’m the one suffering because of your love. You could at least acknowledge your feelings to yourself.”

✧ He can still see the blush on Elladan’s face, obvious against his hair. But he can also see acceptance and realisation in his brother's eyes. The realisation that he wants you as something more than a friend.

✧ “Took you long enough.”

𝐄𝐥𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐫

✧ Elrohir was never sure if he believed in love at first sight. It was never something discussed among the elves, where feelings tended to develop over years of emotional connection. But it also seemed like a real thing to mortals - and not just in the tales of old.

✧ As a son of Elrond, where did that leave him? Would his feelings come after decades with a lover, or from a glance across the forest?

✧ And then you arrived.

✧ Instantly, something skipped in his heart - and he felt almost exactly what he’d always thought true love would feel like.

✧ But it wasn’t quite the blazing fire that some of the tomes described, more like a spark.

✧ Then he met you again, desperately trying to do the best you could to keep your city safe. And then again in Gondor’s war council, fearlessly pledging your allegiance to the new king and winning over others with honeyed words and promises.

✧ It was then when his heart was set on you.

✧ So, not quite love at first sight, it had taken a little more time for him to be completely sure.

✧ Yet he was still completely enamoured by you, at the latest, by at the end of your third meeting.

Hope you enjoyed! So sorry this is late, I had it completed and then forgot to post it - was just sitting in my drafts. Soo... yeah, I am very sorry about that. Thank you again for your support! Requests here.

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

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shirefantasies · 2 months ago

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Hello! I love your work so much, I hope you're doing well! I have an ask for you, whenever you get around to it 🥰 Could I please see the elves react to a reader that just tends to draw wildlife to them? Almost Disney princess style, maybe they just have a calming sort of aura about them. Thanks so much!

The Elves When You Attract Wildlife

Thranduil

The elven king is simply watching you as you stroll through the forest, his eyes following your movements idly. Until, that is, he sees the way you slow. A smile spreads across your face as you excitedly wave him forward, stepping along gently with a flat, inviting hand extended. Its recipient? A slender, graceful white deer lowering its head slowly your way. Such hinds are rare to the forest, revealing themselves most often to elven royalty, and yet here this one was wholeheartedly embracing your presence. Thranduil is reminded all over again how blessed your relationship is as he watches your effortless commune.

Feren

His steps slowed on patrol the first time he caught sight of a bird lighting on your finger, bringing a grin to your face. He sheathed his blade to approach you, each footfall near silent. Head tilting with gentle curiosity, you reached up to stroke its feathers, and it was Feren’s turn to smile, gaping faded in favor of pure admiration. “The forest does not give up its secrets lightly,” Feren told you. You started, but quickly shifted back to a smile upon sight of him, and the way his heart flipped told him everything he needed to know: no discipline would come your way from your distraction. Not when his feelings were growing so strong.

Legolas

Running effortlessly on the snow, Legolas typically does not look back, but the lack of footsteps crunching at his side brings him pause and has him turning around. When he does, his brows raise at the sight a distance behind him. There you are knelt in the snow, seemingly unbothered by the way its cold seeps into your legs, extending a hand. Its recipient? A short distance a way curls a snow-white fox, its form opening as it tentatively steps your way. Smiling, Legolas moves and short distance away, crouching and watching as the fox even lets you stroke its pale fur. Your gentle treatment of animals is exactly why he loves you. Perhaps he should tell you such…

Haldir

The night is cold, wind rushing past your form and whipping through every loose article of your clothing, fabric rapidly brushing skin. Your head is covered with a hood, through which wind whistles into your ears. At your side runs your companion, large furred figure loping against the rush. You do not stop until a voice manages to cut through the wind. "What is that?" Haldir. "I told you I had friends in these woods," you whirled around, answering with a grin. "So I was wrong in taking that to mean allies?" "Only because you haven't seen him hunting," you replied, venturing a tentative stroke of the wolf's head. You had been taming him for some time since you saved him from a trap, so he had grown used to your touch- not quite like a pet. Not yet. "How?" He asked, shaking his head. "How do you do it?" "How I try to do anything, Haldir. With kindness." At that, Haldir's stoicism dropped, finally giving way to a smile.

Galadriel

Seeing you knelt upon the dirt, the Lady of Lórien creeps closer, bare feet making next to no noise as one inches before the other. Tilting her head, Galadriel reaches out a hand, but she never gets a chance to as you turn around. Turn around, in fact, with a small, dark-scaled snake curling up your bared arm. Her lips arced slowly upward. Gradually. Galadriel's face does not often betray her thoughts, but you know her well. She is less guarded with you, so the surprise is clear enough for your own face to fall, to hesitate. "I know some find this strange," you say. Quickly, though, she closes the gap between you, stopping you with a finger to your lips. "All life has a purpose. Your appreciation of it is dear."

Lindir

A tree stump serves as Lindir's seat as he softly plays his flute, eyelids fluttering open to peek at his audience of one: you. There you stand, hands clasped and lips curved in a smile of joyful serenity, as you take in Lindir's composition. Notes flutter on the wind, but that is not all. Your grin widens as a little brown bird dances in the air, flapping closer to you as you extend a hand, one finger out. You are not expecting much, but to your delight and surprise the bird proves you wrong, lighting on your finger. Your eyes only lifted from this unexpected gift and its tiny taloned grip on you when the sound of music faded away; looking up, your eyes met Lindir's, which were looking at you with such adoration as to bring a flush to your cheeks.

Elrond

"Where are you, meleth nîn?" Soft words alert you to the presence of another emerging at your back, but you do not turn, do not alarm the approaching set of hooves. Soft eyes flutter at you from below, where the deer remains with lowered head and tentative stance. Beckoning with your hand, you keep your eyes forward and offer promise of grain. Elrond's hand falls upon your shoulder, lightly, affectionately, and there he stands in comfortable silence until the deer has nibbled its fill from your palm. "I love it here," you whisper, eyes finally rising from their fix upon the woods to meet a pair of warm blue ones. "And I love you," Elrond replies with a soft smile.

Arwen

"So this is where you go to hide away?" Arwen teases, hand gently squeezing the one you lead her by. For your part, you simply giggle and guide her further along the little-worn dirt path. Its end culminating in a pond dancing in the sunlight and lined with rocks and cattails. "Are we hunting for frogs, then?" "No," you grin and shake your head, "Watch this." Cupping your hands in the cool, clear water, you hold them out and wait. Wait and feel Arwen's hand gently upon your waist, holding you in anticipation. Anticipation gratified by the slowing of glassy wings and lighting of a thin red figure upon the edge of your hands. Drinking slowly and rubbing its arms together, the dragonfly looks away from you and drifts through the air to the cattails. A blue one emerges some time later, follows a similar process. Blue, green, and red dance in the air as they dart over the water, sometimes to that which you hold for them. Turning back to face Arwen, you feel yourself flush at the awe alight in her blue eyes. "Care to try?" As soon as she nods and cups her hands, you hold them in yours, plunging all four of them back into the glistening water.

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#lord of the rings #the hobbit #lotr imagines #the hobbit imagines #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #thranduil #feren #legolas #haldir #galadriel #lindir #elrond #arwen #gender neutral reader #ask #anon #requested

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fantasyworld4ever · 1 year ago

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I would like to uno reverse and ask how the elves (yep, all the LOTR/hobbit elves you write for) would react to their s/o keeping them warm, whether it be with a blanket, an extra cloak, or even magically radiating warmth.

LOTR/THE HOBBIT ELVES REACTING TO THEIR S/O WHO GIVE THEM THEIR COAT/BLANKET WHEN ITS COLD.

Elrond

Istg this poor guy will survive the cold for you

You don’t realize it’s cold but when you look over at Elrond he’s quite literally shivering from cold

You quickly deduce that the poor ellon has stayed out simply because you were

You chuckle fondly, finding it sweet as you drape a coat/blanket over him and he blinks at you in surprise

He tries to protest but you glare at him and he shuts up

Thranduil

No, just no.

This man will refuse to take your coat

Anyway, he wouldn't even be out in the cold

If he finds it cold, there is no way he’s letting you go out

Legolas

Dude does not get cold

Have you seen him running through those snowy places?

Yeah, he's too jumpy to be cold

He will politely reject your coat if you ask though

Lindir

This poor sweet innocent baby 😭

He won’t wait for you to offer it, he’s gonna just grab it then apologize as he wraps himself in it

Literally freezing

He’ll be okay, he snuggles against you for extra warmth

Haldir

Dude patrols borders, he’s used to it

May actually fall asleep standing up in the cold

You just wrap the blanket around him and he’ll stir slightly

Poor bby, he’s so tired

He’ll hold you tight, swaddling you in the blanket too

Glorfindel

He will snatch your blanket quicker than you can say his name

He’ll apologize but he aint sorry at all

He is COLD.

Let him have the damn blanket xD

Feren

Sweet bby

He won’t say anything even if the air is a bit chilly

He’ll do his best to hide it but you soon realize just how cold he is

“Thank you, meleth.” He’ll smile at you as you drape the blanket over his shoulders but insists you both share it

Figwit

“My lady/lord, it’s cold” He’ll comment on the chilliness of the air as you stroll through the garden

No matter how many times you tell him to call you your name he will insist on using your title in public

When you give him your coat he looks surprised and tries to protest but soon gives in, wrapping it around himself

“Thank you, meleth…” He’ll whisper, his ears red

{Thanks for the request and hope it lives up to your expectations! Apologies for the wait. And as always, my inbox is open!}

#requests #lotr #the hobbit #elves #figwit #thranduil #legolas #feren #lindir #elrond peredhel #glorfindel #haldir #x reader #gender neutral reader #fluff

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the-autistic-vulcan · 2 years ago

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the part where i talk about fanfics...

okay, this is, not difficult for me to talk about, but i know people are touchy about this subject - so i'm just going to say it:

If a fanfiction is not your cup of tea, then don't read it!

it is quite a simple thing to do for most people, however, there is a lot of readers/fandom explorers who go in to read a piece of fanfiction and then hate on it because:

"i headcanon X as gay, so shipping them with Y reader is a no"

"you can only ship X with Y, no other ships or reader inserts or self inserts are valid

"he doesn't like women or she doesn't like men" and vice versa

this is very apparent in most fandoms, dead or thriving, where a character is, in the majority, is headcanoned as something, but there is a minority that doesn't agree.

for example, in the mcu fandom, a lot of people headcanon Steve Rogers aka Captain America, as bisexual. personally, i do not, but i don't go out of my way to hate on people who read the male reader fanfics or the Stucky (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes) fics - i've read some and a lot of them are great, tbh.

personally, i like to read and/or write gender neutral reader fics and that is honestly the comfort zone for me - but i know people will disagree and enjoy more gender aligned fics (male or female)

but i digress - in short, let people read what they want to read, if you disagree or do not support a headcanon/ship/trope, please don't ruin the day of enjoyers.

let's not ban certain takes on characters - the world has other worries

Signed, Ali Solar

Taglist:

@mashedpotatosinacup

@witchthewriter

@tolkien-fantasy

P.S. To those on the taglist, i'd love to hear your opinions on this

#fanfiction #ship dynamics #headcanon #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader #dead fandom #alive fandom #marvel x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #edward nygma x reader #thranduil x reader #bilbo baggins x reader #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #frodo baggins #the lord of the rings #i know there are so many tags but i need to get this across

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intoxicated-chan · 1 year ago

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CW ➳ Gender Neutral Reader, Reader is an Elf, mentions of death, mentions of unrequited love…

Thranduil won’t admit it, not even on his dying breath, he doesn’t like it when an Elf falls in love. More like, he worries for both sides of the relationship. It won’t matter if both are Elves, he lost the love of his life and doesn’t wish it on anyone.

And it won’t matter if you’re a Mirkwood Elf or anyone else. He’ll warn you, even more when he learns you’re interested in a dwarf or another Elf. He’ll have you face reality, either your significant other will grow to resent your immortality or you will grow to despise their life span.

Or what if you happen to love that person, and they don’t love you back. Are you going to spend hundreds and thousands of years yearning for them?

Even if there is a chance for a happy ending for both of you, that’s all it would be, a chance. You’ll just have to wait and see it for yourself. Will you be promised and continue to be pleased? Or will you live the rest of your life in despair and torment?

Author’s note under the cut…

Should I watch the Walking Dead? Mainly for Daryl/Norman Reedus?

#divider by cafekitsune #x reader #x gender neutral reader #lotr x y/n #lotr x you #lotr x reader #the hobbit x y/n #the hobbit x you #the hobbit thranduil #lord of the rings x y/n #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings #angst

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 10 months ago

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Greetings, dear readers. Here you shall find my writing masterlist. I regularly take requests, and can write for The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, and The Witcher. I dally in gender-specific, gender-diverse, and gender-neutral reader inserts, and am happy to cater. Read on and let your mind drift away into a world of submersible imagination…

She’s the Man (Fellowship X Disguised as Boy! Reader!)

The Road Less Traveled (Fellowship x Pregnant! Reader)

The Road Less Traveled (Part 2) (Legolas x Mother! Reader)

“Thanks, I Owe You Guys One.” (Fellowship x Reader)

Speak My Language (Fellowship x Hurt! Reader)

Leap of Faith (Fellowship x Reader)

Wrong End of the Ithillien Stick (Legolas x Reader)

Not a Hero (Fellowship x Soldier! Reader)

Elf Got Your Tongue? (Legolas x Reader)

The Wrong Kind of Stardust (Legolas x Reader)

And Then There Were Two (Legolas x Reader) (One Bed Trope)

The Softest Shout (Fili x Reader)

Silver is the New Sexy (Kili x Reader)

Imagine the Fellowship comforting you as you reveal your aro/ace identity to them

Imagine accidentally marrying Legolas whilst drunk in Edoras

Imagine Legolas only yelling at you in Sindarin when angry

Imagine spending your Sweet 16 with the Fellowship

Imagine Mairon and Melkor dangling you over lava to extract information from you

Imagine helping Legolas deal with a sprained ankle

Imagine waiting at the battle of Helms Deep

Imagine Thranduil helping you deal with your skin insecurities

Imagine you, a bard, writing the song ‘Soldier, Poet, King’ about Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas

Imagine Gandalf taking the Fellowship to you after they’ve all been turned into animals

Imagine you, a journalist, forcing your way into the Fellowship of the Ring

Imagine having a spa day with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli

Imagine Legolas becoming a “bridezilla” at your wedding

Imagine Aragorn and Legolas helping hide your mermaid identity from the rest of the Fellowship

Imagine having a playful songwriter rivalry with Maglor

Teaching the Fellowship to drive a car would include: (Fellowship x Reader)

Imagine having Maglor as your neighbour in the 21st century

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lillianofliterature · 2 years ago

Note

If your requests are open, and you are comfortable with it, could you maybe please do a King Thranduil x reader one-shot where reader has cancer and it is like angsty?

the toll of sickness | thranduil x reader

a/n: Anon, I am sincerely sorry for the long wait, but I wanted to provide all the angsty venting and comfort I could for you in this! Thank you for your request! I wanted to do this right by you. I hope this helps soothe whatever parts of you need soothing today. I don’t know anon’s/anyone’s specific diagnosis or symptoms, so I’m doing my best to remain respectful and widely general with the topic of cancer. I took inspiration from my own experiences with the mental/emotional toll of long-term chronic illness to supply a plot to resolve, I hope that’s okay (and still relatable). <3

The reader is implied feminine in this as they are referred to as lady/queen, but otherwise, I did my best to keep it gender-neutral with descriptions.

This could also be interpreted as a reader with chronic illness.

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK. GIF EDIT IS MINE.

summary: after a long day of tiresome treatments and the heaviness of your thoughts, you retreat to your chambers to seek the comfort of your husband’s arms.

warnings: mentions of cancer (the reader has cancer), mentions of cancer treatments and symptoms (including needles), medical exhaustion, nonsexual nudity and nonsexual bathing, open discussions of symptoms, fear of death

word count: 6.1k

music: As Long As We Both Shall Live by Bear McCreary

elvish translations: melamin = my love, melda = my dear/beloved

“I think we will conclude here for today, my lady.”

The head healer’s voice drew your wayward attention back to his prim features. His thin lips spread into a smile as he gently unstrapped the tight leather band above your inner elbow, releasing the tension from your skin. The long syringe with its glass barrel was gently pulled from the blue vein that the pressure had highlighted. You rubbed your arm subconsciously as he set aside the supplies for cleaning, hoping the motion would rid your flesh of the awful sensation of being probed.

You blinked away your muddled thoughts. Briefly, you worried that perhaps he had been talking to you long before you’d heard his assessment to end the treatments for the evening. If you had, you were grateful to find no resentment in his gaze for your absentminded silence.

He softly closed his collection of books that had been displayed around a table on the wall adjacent to your cushioned cot in the infirmary. With a bottle of herbal salve, he applied a generous portion to the inner curve of your elbow, satiating any irritation from his needles. The cool gel of the aloe soothed the itchy redness, while the lavender masked the sterile scent of the medications and intensely bitter herbs.

You glanced up from the healer’s gentle efforts, trying on your best smile. “Thank you for your diligence today, Sudryl. It is very much appreciated.”

He bowed his head as he clasped your hand between his palms, “It is always a pleasure to tend to you, my queen. We will resume tomorrow morning if it suits your schedule?”

“My schedule is always free for your remedies. Thranduil has made sure to take over many of my duties so we may focus on my treatment.”

Sudryl smiled once more as he helped you stand from the cot, draping your silken robe over your bare arms as he did so. “The king is very wise, your majesty. I know you detest this period of healing you’re undergoing, but you mustn't mistake rest for idleness. Your people desire greatly for your full recovery, myself included. In order to achieve that, your rest is crucial.”

You didn’t know what to say. Rest was crucial, you knew that. As were the innumerable treatments and remedies being applied and adjusted every day.

But didn’t anyone understand that you were tired of all of this? Exhausted by more than just the cancer and its seemingly endless repercussions that it presented almost daily. Worn down by more than just needles and salves and bitter syrups that lingered in your throat.

You missed feeling well-rested when you woke up in the mornings after a long sleep—you missed having the energy to spend your days fulfilling your duties as a queen, as a servant to her people. You missed the days in which every activity was not dictated or measured by searing pain or groggy fatigue. You were tired of wrestling with your body just to exist comfortably.

But it’s your duty to get better, they keep telling you.

It’s what everyone’s hoping for, your majesty.

Do your best to rest and eat well, my lady.

Don’t give up hope, Queen (Y/n). You are blessed among our kin!

The people have been petitioning their prayers to the Valar fervently, your grace.

They were supposed to be words of encouragement spoken to invigorate your fighting spirit, to ignite that spark of determination that was starting to flicker these last few months. But these endless strains of hope and enlightenment had started to weigh heavily upon your shoulders like a milkmaid’s yoke, and with every well-intentioned word and chorus of song another stone was dropped into the buckets you carried.

The pressure to recover for the sake of others was beginning to feel like too much—the toll of the sickness itself was enough for one to worry about, was it not? Not only did you feel this fearsome desperation to recover for your own sake, for your own life, but also the need of a thousand other voices begging for a show of strength you didn’t feel tangible anymore.

The summoning of one of your servants outside the infirmary doors reminded you that the hour to retire for supper was nearing presently. You felt your posture deflate as it dawned on you that you couldn’t yet retire for the day. Although your extravagant evening meals were one of the few constants that motivated you to follow your days through until nightfall, your hunger had dispersed in the last few days. Being seated at a stiff table dressed with rich delicacies and savory wines sounded nothing short of torture at the moment, even with the promise of dessert.

The servant curtseyed in the broad doorway as Sudryl led you across the room. You couldn’t help but tense as your legs tremored from the sudden activity. A long exhale slipped through your pursed lips.

��My queen,” She rose gracefully, her hands folding together at her waist. “Your supper with the king is nearly prepared. He will be present in the dining hall shortly as soon as his meeting has concluded. I was advised to escort you there safely.”

Clutching onto Sudryl’s forearm, you hesitated to address the messenger. You couldn’t help the expression of distaste that twisted your face. The thought of food was not the only thing that churned your stomach at that moment; the prospect of being walked through your own palace as though you were an invalid, incapable of making it there of your own merit, as though every pair of eyes in this forest need offer you their due pity, bothered you even more than the risk of losing your supper to the toilet.

Knowing you couldn’t send her away under Sudryl’s watchful eye (for surely there would be further inquiries as a result of such an unnecessary dismissal), you managed to nod in thanks to her before turning to him. The head healer’s smile was brimming with empathy. You tried not to feel offended by his pitying compassion. He leaned forward and pecked your cheek reverently, bidding you a respectful farewell until the morning.

You turned from him and followed the servant into the winding halls. Gaze following the eroded pathway of the massive tree roots beneath your sore feet, you bided the seconds until you were both too far to be noticed by any superior voices that might challenge your decision-making. When your footsteps halted, she turned to face you.

Her brows raised, she asked, “My lady? Is something wrong?”

“No, no. I’m alright,” You waved her worries aside with the vague gesture of your hand. “But I can manage the walk to the dining hall from here.”

Her brows drew together in an expression of confusion. You straightened your back—had she seen through your polite fib? Was it that obvious you had no intentions of eating this evening? Or was just she not used to being given conflicting commands between two monarchs?

“—On my own. I can make it there on my own.”

Her lips parted in protest as she recalled what you assumed were very clear orders from your husband only minutes prior. Stretching your hand out to gently touch her shoulder, you reassured her it would be alright. “I will explain to the king myself that I demanded to be left alone. No trouble will come to you, I promise. You will not lose your position.”

“But my lady, I—it is my duty is to ensure your safe arrival. Are you sure you don’t—?”

The irritation that swelled within you wasn’t her fault, you hastily reminded yourself. You bit back the frustrated sigh you wanted to release, tightening your polite smile. Reasoning with another person about what you wanted to do and why you wanted to do it was the last thing you presently wanted to deal with. Desperate to detach yourself from her and anyone else lingering about, you decided to be straightforward. No beating around the bush.

“I value your persistence, young one, but I would very much like to retire early tonight. You may inform my husband that I’ll be taking my meal in our chambers if you must.”

“Understood, your majesty. I shall inform the king. Have a good evening.” She dipped into an impulsive curtsy, quickly trailing back to the chancellery to relay your decision.

You didn’t even wait for her to pass beyond the long hall ahead before you turned in the opposite direction. Your private chambers weren’t too far from the infirmary, thankfully. However, it still took some resolve on your behalf to encourage your depleted energy through corridors and foyers all the way back to your comfortable bed. The silver silk of your robe billowed around your feet with every step, giving your eyes something other than walls of stone and root to follow.

You were sure your husband wouldn’t be taking the present news about your wellbeing all that agreeably. You could see it clearly in your mind—the disheveled, anxious worry in his eyes that he masked behind a wall of solemn regality. But you could always see what he was thinking. He wouldn’t like the fact that your treatments were taking more and more of a toll on your already wearisome state. He would like it even less when he found out you would soon be dismissing supper altogether.

His concern wasn’t for himself, of course. It was for you—it was always for you.

He wanted desperately for you to be able to enjoy your meals in the glittering brilliance of the dining hall, unperturbed by fatigue and nausea. He wanted you to be able to take those strolls through the forest gardens that you adored so much without the sore discomfort in your bones. He wanted you to relish in your life and its unrivaled importance. And most of all, he wanted desperately to take this lingering sickness away; he wished he had been born with a skill for healing like some of his kin.

But all he could give you were the promises of an unsure future and the enlistment of his most skilled associates and all relevant resources that could be found about your condition. And some part of you—some sad, twisted part of you—felt a rush of guilt that so much commotion and worry was being circulated about the kingdom on your behalf. And that guilt only made the whole affair all the more frustrating and maddening. These days, everything inflamed your anger. This whole tumultuous ordeal seemed to be unraveling more than just your physical state.

You knew it was ridiculous to feel responsible in some way for what was happening to you. You hadn’t chosen this, you hadn’t brought it on yourself—you most certainly didn’t deserve it. No one with cancer ever does. But reasoning with your inner turmoil was like wrestling a wild boar in the mud; there was never any true resolve without the cost of more anxieties, more wounds, more gashes in your soul. And the more you tried to gain a grip on yourself, the less grounded you became, the more it all slipped through your fingers.

The click of the door was a chime of resolve as you leaned against the tall wooden frame from within the calm confines of your spacious bedroom. Sliding out of your supple leather flats and letting your robe slump to your elbows, you took the first deep breath you had been able to control since earlier that morning. The king-sized bed frame creaked subtly as you lowered yourself onto the fluffed silken duvet. Ever so gradually, you felt the weight of the vertical world begin to reprieve from your muscles like steam rushing upwards from a boiling pot.

Rest wasn’t a cure for what ailed you, no, but Valar above, sometimes it felt like it.

Since your diagnosis—the terrifying sickness devouring your energy and livelihood from within your own body—nearly every day had been spent in the infirmary or the healer’s sanctuary, remedies administered by the hour, conversations turning tiresome and sour. It had begun to feel like your own home was a prison, the world beyond the palace unreachable, like every action was a strenuous transaction of vitality and exhaustion. Even just walking the gardens that lead into the forest had become inexplicably draining—it left you feeling as though you’d run to Mirkwood’s southern border and back rather than taking a few turns about the courtyard.

But here, on the cloud-like comfort of your private chambers, there was some reprieve from it all. There were no endless strands of questions about your well-being and your comfort and opinions on the tedious details of your health here—only the distant rush of the waterfalls that crashed brazenly into the river moat outside the palace gates. You could hear the chirping of the early summer insects as dusk narrowed on the horizon beyond the open terrace. There was no sterile smell of concentrated alcohol or the pungent gnawing of tart herbs. Instead, there was a faint aroma of lilacs wafting in from the gardens and the scent of your husband’s musk lingering in your bed.

Closing your eyes and rolling onto your lesser-sore side, you sought out the imprint that his body might have left there that morning. But the duvet was creased flat and folded with a chill under your skin. It was curious futility to think his warmth might have lasted after so many long hours away, you knew that; the bed was always plumped and remade in the mornings by your gracious servants. A coldness ran through you, engulfing your skin in little bumps that felt like prickling needles.

Too sore from your aches to unfurl the taut covers from the mattress and too comfortable to retrieve one of your husband’s many fur throws, you recoiled your arm and folded your limbs closer together, curling into a position that would magnify your own body heat. While quietly taking in the environment of your sanctuary, this small peaceful haven that almost made you forget the turmoil your body was enduring, you hardly noticed as you faded into a light slumber. Caught between the ebbing flow of consciousness as it bobbed around the sleepy release of your strained body, wading between thoughts and dreams.

Unaware of the passage of time as you laid there in groggy consciousness, you hardly felt the urge to stir from your position until you felt the back of someone’s hand on your cheek, the brushing aside of your askew (h/c) tendrils. Then you made out the quiet husk of a voice that hovered above you in the dark.

In the dark? Sunset was still a couple of hours away! And after that, dusk would linger still until the light vanished beyond the mountains to the west. Why was it already so dark?

Hadn’t it only been a few fleeting minutes since you’d closed your eyes, listening to the cicadas and savoring the sweetness of the summer flora? Eyebrows pursed, you could hear yourself attempt to answer, but the meticulous reply you’d fabricated in your mind was delivered in heavy vowels that grouped together lazily. Your speech felt like treacle slipping off your tired tongue.

A velvet chuckle reverberated in your perking ears.

“Have I forgotten my native tongue or was that a very poor attempt at Sindarin?”

Thranduil.

Your nose scrunched up as you fought to drain the sleepiness that was working against you so fervently. Before you could stir the tired droopiness from your eyes with eager fists, two gentle hands cupped your cheeks and swept their thumbs over your closed eyes. The motion was akin to a gentle massage, spanning your sore eyelids and dusting across your cheekbones, a cradling of your vulnerable stillness that filled your chest with a fond fervor. The supple tenderness of his lips collided briefly with yours before parting all too quickly.

“Mm?” Your vocabulary hadn’t quite refreshed itself, it seemed. “When d’dju geten?”

Another rumbling chuckle he didn’t bother trying to hide. You pictured his willowy frame standing primly in front of the tall gilded looking glass, unfastening his stuffier robes and tucking his powder–blonde hair behind his pointed ears, or perhaps even tying it back for the night as he often did.

Stars, it felt like there were weights on your shoulders pulling you back against the duvet as you forced yourself to sit up, like the muscles beneath your skin were unraveling at the seams. You rubbed your eyes and shooed your disheveled hair from your peripheral vision, glancing around the dark room for your husband’s silhouette. A flicker of light plumed suddenly in the sconce near the vanity, illuminating his fair features. The match in his hand extinguished with a puff of air from his lips before his pale blue eyes found yours.

“I only just came in,” he reassured you, “I’m afraid I underestimated how much wind some of our advisors have in their lungs, especially when provoked.”

Another votive flickered to life on the other side of the room, another match snuffed out under his breath. The sunlight outside had all but gone in the murky hours you had been asleep. Now that you could take in the mellow darkness of the evening without confusion, some part of you felt distressed about the sudden absence of natural light. The daylight, warm and golden, always brought you a sense of comfort. But now it was dark and grey and the light of the moon was cold, distant, and you hadn't had a chance to prepare yourself for it. Another chill ran across your skin as a more frigid breeze swept in from the open terrace.

“Did Sudryl have a chance to share the news with you before retiring this evening?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder at you. His lips pursed when he saw your unmoving figure still sitting on the edge of the bed, your back draped in silks, facing away from him. Your slumped posture told him all he needed to know about how you were feeling after your treatments—the exhaustion was palpable in how slow your palm rose to cradle your own forehead, in how shaky you were as you forced yourself up from the bed and took hold of the bedpost.

He was near you in an instant, his strong hands taking gentle hold of your bowed shoulders. There he was, combing the stray hairs on your head down with doting affection, all while the same frustrations were building up inside of you as your sleepiness dissipated.

“You needn’t rise for me, melamin, I am no guest.” He chided gently.

“I know, I just need a bath before we settle in for the night.”

“You’re in no state to manage that tonight, (Y/n)—”

“Thranduil, I haven’t rinsed off the ointments. I smell like the forest—and not in a good way.”

“You smell like an herb garden, fresh and natural, as all things should be.”

“Pungent is more like it,” You quipped, catching the accent of bitter walnuts exuding from your thin robes. It was that old, damp, dingy sort of bitterness that made you want to expel the air from your lungs with a snort when you caught a whiff of it—not the pleasant sort of musk from the gardens.

He laughed again, this time with more relief behind his eyes. Even though he knew you were spent from the day’s strenuous activities, the presence of your humor provided him with some semblance of comfort. And as for your own weary senses, his smooth strain of laughter was more than a consolation for the muted anxiousness that the infirmary always inflicted.

“Then let me help you.”

“Thranduil, I can do it mys—”

“I insist,” He offered decidedly, and you knew well enough from past experience that arguing with him on the matter would prove ineffective.

He gently looped your arm through the curve of his elbow, placing a sweet kiss to your messy hair before turning along with you toward the adjoined bathing chamber. You leaned into him for support and begrudgingly admitted to yourself that he was right—there was no way you could withstand the exertion on your own, at least not tonight. Not while you felt this lethargic, not while your stress levels were causing such tension throughout your body, making everything denser, slower, sluggish.

Once he led you into the warmly lit haven of the spacious chamber, the steam of the hot spring pool seemed to draw you in on its own accord. The walls and their rugged shapes made the flickering yellowness of the torchlight spread longer shadows among its natural angles and divots. The far right wall was connected to the run-off of one of the many springs that stretched like veins throughout the mountain palace—and it was little cavern rooms like this one that reminded you that you were living in the majesty of a low-peaking mountain, not just nestled in the forested density of the Greenwood.

You knelt at the rim of the bathing pool on the soft stone edge, dragging your hand through the clear blue water. The natural warmth of the hot spring invigorated you with a sense of eagerness as you remembered just how soothing these glowing pools always were. A gentle touch to your shoulder lured your attention back to your husband, who with a fond smile, was waiting to help you unravel your robes and underthings. Taking his hand, you were pulled to stand in front of him with the gentlest limits of his strength.

You hardly felt the pressure or the tugging of his lithe fingers as he helped you undress, his touch but a breeze across your sore skin. When you were naked and chilled from the exposure, he guided you into the blue waters and leaned over the pool’s edge to make sure you were steady on the outcropped seat of eroded stonework submerged in the water. As the bubbling warmth enveloped your flesh, your eyes fluttered shut with an involuntary sigh of relief.

There were very rarely things that proved effective for your ceaseless pains—medicines and supplements only lasted so long or relieved so little, and sleep was growing more difficult to manage. But this—the heat bubbling up from the earth, sorted through sediment and mineral—was the most relief you found these days.

When submerged in the hot spring bath, your entire body numbed to its own plague as your bones and muscles absorbed whatever benefits came from the terrain around you. You briefly wondered how you ever managed to get out the last time you soaked like this, with every inch of your flesh basking in the warmth that enveloped you.

You relaxed against the glossy stones, trying to quiet your mind of all the infernal anxieties pressing a weight against your chest. The noise of your thoughts made it difficult to focus fully on the soothing effects of the natural hot spring, tensing and loosening your muscles and posture between every harsh doubt.

With a fresh cloth he brandished from a side table, Thranduil dipped it into the warm bath and began gently scrubbing away the ground athelas mixture. He’d seated himself comfortably on the edge of the bath, submerging his calves into the pool to cradle you between them. The cloth strummed along your chest and stomach as he reached over and behind, where the herbs from Sudryl’s remedies had been infiltrating the cancerous sickness plaguing your organs. You hadn’t meant to show him how weak you felt, how tired you were, how desperately you needed this—but your head fell back to rest against his stomach despite this as the steam curled around you both, dampening your hair and foreheads.

After your rinsing from the spout of a silver pitcher, he coaxed oils and lathered soaps across your flesh, your own fingers clasping onto the pale skin of his forearm or around his leg, refusing to cease contact with him. And although he generously and willingly offered his aide while the healing minerals of that glowing pool of steam soothed you, some venomous voice in the back of your mind tried to feed you strings of doubt and loathing.

He shouldn’t have to do this. He shouldn’t have had to become my caretaker.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to get sick—neither of us was.

He deserves more than this mess I’ve given him. He deserves better than me.

You cleared your throat, trying to silence the growing guilt and shame before that stinging swell of tears could grow any more than they already were.

“What was it you were going to tell me?” You asked after the first of his own sweet-scented oils was being lathered along your arms, turning you about to face him. “Earlier, you mentioned something about Sudryl?”

“Ah, that,” he nodded in remembrance, “I gather he didn’t mention anything about Lord Elrond to you today?”

“Lord Elrond?” You inquired, lifting your questioning gaze to meet his. “No—no, he didn’t. Has something happened? Something to do with our alliances? Or with that trade treaty we adjusted with Laketown in the spring—”

“No, melamin, nothing of diplomatic proportions—all is still amiable with our kin for the time being,” he reassured. When he glanced up at you, the tranquil hope glittering in his blue eyes soothed the curious worry growing in your mind. He almost seemed excited about something. It tugged the corners of your mouth into a brief smile. “I sent word to him a little more than a month ago now, I suppose, to see what he might be able to do about your condition, to inquire about whether his skill with healing might mend what ails you.”

You swallowed hard over the sudden discomfort of anxiety that rose again like bile in your throat at the mention of more treatment, more guests, more expectations for healing. More, more, more.

“He is to arrive within a week of his latest correspondence, which came this morning. Preparations are being made for his arrival as we speak.”

Unknowingly, your grip had tightened on your husband’s forearm, your nails digging shallow crescents into his skin. The sharp sensation drew his attention downward to your hands, his dark brows furrowing in concern. His fingers winding around yours brought your attention to your vice-like grip, which you promptly loosened.

“What is it, (Y/n)? Does this news not please you?”

The earnestness in his pale eyes pierced your heart, the guilt bubbling up in your mind again. You weren’t sure what worried you most. The prospect of more prodding, more treatments, more attempts that might lead to nowhere; the fuss being made across the realm about your condition, about this peculiar, harsh sickness that was so puzzling to even the brightest minds; or perhaps, most worrisome of all, was the fact that you were no longer able to manage the upkeep of a happy facade. So many people were hoping, praying, supporting, and tending to you.

And somehow, you found that to be the most exhausting part of it all. Not only were you fighting for your own body, for comfort and life, but you were trying to uphold and appease every pair of eyes that was eagerly awaiting your miraculous recovery from something you didn’t even know how to fight. There were so many hopes to meet, so many hearts to comfort on your behalf, and your resolve was quietly crumbling.

Before you could think to soften your words in an attempt to save Thranduil’s optimism, your lips began to move, a sudden impulse of tears gathering in your eyes. “What if there is nothing even Lord Elrond can do to cure this?”

He paused, his eyes searching yours briefly before his damp fingers reached up to caress your cheek. How had he not seen the disparagement growing behind your gaze, darkening the lilt in your voice? Hidden behind humor and mischievous quips, but no less obvious.

“If—if I do not show improvement, our people will lose their resolve. Everyone’s counting on me to get better, to show some store of strength I no longer have and I–I can’t will my body to right itself,” you bore to him, panicked and spent from months of effort, “I cannot give everyone the hope they're seeking from me."

“Oh, melamin,” his chin nestled over your ear as he murmured with such rich affection, pressing your face into the musky homeliness of his neck.

“I know I should be grateful for their support, for their prayers and their offerings, but it’s becoming too much, Thranduil. I don’t have the strength for a kingdom’s worth of miracles.”

“You do not owe anyone but yourself the grace of your strength. Had I known their encouragement had put pressure on you to perform, I would have silenced the lot of them.”

Despite his sincerity, you panicked on. “What if I am never rid of it? What if this is my blight that I must war with for the rest of my life?”

He sombered then, drawing in a deep string of air into his lungs. You could see him wrestling with the reality of your honesty, with the questions you both had been too afraid to speak aloud before now. Gathering himself, he drew you nearer to him, clinging to you with a brief urgency that almost startled you.

“Then we will rise together each day to face it. There will never be a single day that you will have to endure this on your own. Do you hear me? That is my promise to you—that my vow and my diligence will never waver where you are concerned.”

Your tears burned with his words and you worked to force them at bay, his sweetness drawing every sour fear and thought of guilt from your mind and onto your tongue. “I am so sorry for this life I have given you. You didn’t ask for this—you cannot be happy with me—with this-this terrible thing I’ve brought upon us. You deserve so much more, and I can no longer give it to you.”

“You’re apologizing—?” He questioned, his voice quiet in shock.

Your eyes clamped shut, forcing the well of sorrows from your eyes to plummet. Gently, he pulled himself back, repositioning his hands on your upper arms as if to garner your absolute attention.

“(Y/n), this life you have given me has been far more than I have ever deserved and could ever strive to. From the moment we met, you have enriched my life just by your existence alone, much less the many qualities and traits about you I have come to treasure beyond all fortune or success. You have given me everything, a dozen lifetimes over, in the mere centuries we have been together.”

“You cannot have wanted this,” you breathed out, hushed by your own shame.

“No, I did not want you to suffer with something so abysmal, something so beyond my control. Of course I did not want for your pain…but if this is our future, if this is our path together, then I want every minute of it, and I will not settle for a second less. I would upheave the very crest of the world and drown mountains in flame if it meant saving you. And if that makes me selfish or ruthless, then I will be the standard at which devils compare their sins.”

His hands had gradually found their way up to your face, cradling your damp cheeks with a sincerity that made your lip quiver.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

The sight of the tearful waterline reflected in his eyes drew a noise of curt regret from your lungs. Your sob pierced his heart, filling him with a desperation to amend the shame and anxiety plaguing your mind.

“If you truly believe that you are at fault for this sickness, then in turn I must be held responsible for allowing it to happen in the first place. As your husband first, but also as your king.”

“No, no that’s not true! It’s not even reasonable of you to—”

“Then how can it be your fault? How could any of this be on your shoulders? There is no sense in blame, (Y/n). Not here, not with this.”

There was a stillness after his words, a stillness that was meant for rumination, and sealed with his lips against your skin and hair. Your hands rose to rest against his chest, nestling them over the dip of his collarbone as you felt for comfort in the blur of your tears. His silence prompted an answer.

“It’s not my fault,” you replied.

“Say it again.”

“It isn’t my fault,” you echoed, meeting his gaze once more, “just as it isn’t yours.”

And as shocking as it was for you to realize it, you truly believed the words he encouraged from you. This sickness wasn’t your fault. Neither of you could have had any sway with fate or destiny, with whatever had brought this on. And perhaps, it just simply was, with no cause or fault at all. What mattered now was how kind you could be to yourself, how to take one moment of strife and find something in it to hold onto. Moments like this were one of those morsels between the ebbing aches of pain and grief that you could relish and devour again and again.

Thranduil leaned forward, pressing his sweat-laced brow against yours. “Do not ever blame yourself, melamin. Do not let those foul words pass between your lips again.”

You nodded against him, pulling him nearer. “I promise.”

In the long minutes that followed, there was the solace of quiet intimacy as he rinsed through your hair one final time, peppering you with kisses and caresses at every opportunity. He met you with a soft fluffy towel when he led you out of the bath, never allowing a breeze to nip at your damp skin. His touch was featherlight as he patted you dry from head to toe, scrunching your drenched tendrils of (h/c) hair without complaint.

“I’m still so afraid,” you managed the courage to speak aloud, “What if–...what if this sickness claims my life?”

“You will not part this world without me, melda. Not a single breath will leave your lungs without my sharing it, not a single heartbeat will we not share,” he vowed, the absolute belief in his voice making the promise all the richer, “there isn’t a corner in this world or any other that you could wander to that I would not accompany you.”

Your silk nightgown slipped over your outstretched arms swiftly, sliding down your body and into place comfortably. He did up the lace of the collar with efficiency, not missing the chance to playfully tug you closer with the slightest bit of his strength. You planted yourself against his chest, the smile on your lips effortless with his own. The firm warmth of his arms wrapping around you had the same sort of pain-numbing effect as the hot spring, lulling every fretful thought to a close. His somber laugh reverberated again, this time through your bones, bringing an ethereal kind of peace with it.

The pillows of your large four-poster bed were positioned, fluffed, and repositioned. You waited patiently, upon his insistence, as he untucked and pulled the puffy duvet back for you to crawl under. Once comfortably tucked beneath layers of silk and cotton, he assumed his place beside you, careful not to jostle the mattress as he settled, mindful that every movement enticed your discomfort.

His body heat made you sleepy as you sank further into the covers, fogging your thoughts with a drowsy anticipation for the release of slumber. You’d waited for this moment all day—it had been the image that had pushed you through the hours of treatment and questions—the moment you could finally burrow against his warmth and drunken yourself with his scent. There was a slight stirring as he reached off to the side to retrieve something on the bedside table.

The fluttering of pages caught your fading attention, pulling your heavy-eyed gaze toward the book in his grasp. “Would you like to continue where we left off?”

You smiled tiredly against his chest, not recalling the events of the book he’d been reading to you for the last few nights. Oftentimes, the first few pages would strike vividly in your imagination, but as his lustrous tone carried on through paragraphs and chapters, the sleepy security that his presence enticed made it impossible to recall anything beyond the thrilling hum of his voice. In all actuality, you were quite sure he didn’t mind if you knew anything at all about the story he was reading aloud. It was enough to hold you and be held.

TAGS: @tessaem @izbelross @bloodblossoms73 @sunnysidesidra

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 1 month ago

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Whimsy's Seven Days of Ficsmas!

Requests are open for Christmas Fics! Stories will be posted between 16th and 22nd December and requests will be closed on 30th November, so get your asks in now!

Prompts:

Mistletoe: Maedhros/Maglor

Mulled Wine: Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken reader

The Longest Night Gothmog/Eönwë/Finarfin

Blind Man's Bluff (Victorian AU only)

Gift - Melkor/Maedhros/Mairon

Solstice Feast - Tauriel/Thranduil

Mince Pies - Kermit Tully/Blackwood wife reader

Rules :

Fandoms I will write for: Apollo & Hyacinthus | Tolkien | Prince Nuada | ASOIAF/Fire and Blood/HOTD only

Characters I will write for in Tolkien stories: Elves and Ainur only.

Other AUs I will write for Tolkien stories: Medieval AU/Fall of Valinor Au/Victorian England AU/Prosperity of Nargothrond AU

Please specify if you prefer soft/fluff, NSFW/Smutty, Dark/Dead dove.

I will not repeat prompts nor character(s)/ships, so requests will be taken on a first-come, first-served basis.

I will not reply requests if proper details are not given.

For reader inserts: Please specify if the reader is to be AFAB, AMAB, or gender neutral

Ships: If the pairing appeals to me, I will write for them.

I will not write any sexual or dark content featuring minors.

For smut: Please mention your wants/do not wants.

For dark content: I will take requests for death, violence, dub-con, non-con, and incest.

For monsterfucking, please specify if you want werewolf or draconic.

I will not take requests for scat splay, water sport, needle play or spit kink.

Minors DNI

#requests open #christmas requests #whimsy's seven days of ficsmas #tolkien #prince nuada #apollo & hyacinthus #asoiaf #fire and blood #hotd

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daydreamerbunny · 2 years ago

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𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

last updated on 8/30/2024

PLEASE NOTE: these is purely fiction and does not represent the idols or any other real person in anyway.

Do NOT take my writings as your own.

Key:

s = smut

a = angst

f = fluff

ＫＰＯＰ♥

ＢＴＳ ♥

Jeon Jungkook

⇢ last (afab reader, s, f and a) One last time.

⇢ one year (afab reader, a) Jungkook comes to apologize and he realizes you are with someone.

⇢ royal engagement (afab princess!reader, s) You’re a princess to a small kingdom and the neighboring large kingdom just lost their king, making your childhood fling now crowned. Your family makes a trip to express condolences and plans on maintaining the tight alliance your kingdoms have.

Min Yoongi

⇢ one year (afab reader, a) Jungkook comes to apologize and he realizes you are with someone.

ＭＯＮＳＴＡＸ ♥

Im Changkyun

⇢ {unknown hiatus} rose gold series, involving other Monsta X members (afab named reader, s, f, and a) Being engaged to a charming prince suddenly makes you the most desirable woman in the castle. Part 1, part 2, and part 3.

⇢ i’ll wait (afab reader, s) Your professor overhears some girls teasing you and decides to make you feel better.

ＳＨＩＮＥＥ ♥

Lee Taemin

⇢ bitten & smitten (afab reader, s) Your village is raided by the vampire prince and he decides that you are his.

ＯＴＨＥＲＦＡＮＤＯＭＳ ♥

α v α t α r ♥

Jake Sully

⇢ Rumor Has It (afab human reader, s) You have a thing for Jake's avatar and Jake finds that out and decides to indulge you on it.

⇢ Pretty Girl (afab human reader, s) Jake and reader fuck without her oxygen mask.

⇢Silly Girl (afab omatikaya reader, s) imagine tying up Jake in attempts to spice it up in your sex life and it does not go in your favor.

⇢ Bunny (afab human reader, s) Jake fucks you on Easter.

⇢ Jake hisses at reader (afab human reader, a and f) Requested

Neteyam Sully

⇢ Always (afab Na'vi reader, a) Neteyam loses you and reflects back on the happy moments.

нσυѕє σƒ тнє ∂яαgση♥

Aegon II Targaryen

⇢ Star-Crossed and History-Lost (afab reader, s) You adore your brother, Aegon, while married and growing resentful to your other brother Aegon. You reminisce on your moments with Aegon while you care for him after being burned and plan on his escape.

s t r α n g є r t h í n g s ♥

Henry Creel

⇢Latrodectus mactans (afab reader, s) Henry and you were both orderly. He was 001 and you were 002. Henry takes advantage of the crush you have on him to help him with his plan to escape the lab. He's willing to break a few of his own rules to make sure you were his.

ＳＴＡＲＷＡＲＳ ♥

Kylo Ren

⇢ His Rock (afab reader, f)

⇢ Restless ( afab reader, f)

⇢ I Don’t Blame You ( afab reader, a)

⇢ Baby Steps ( afab reader, f and a)

ＤＥＴＲＩＯＴＢＥＣＯＭＥＨＵＭＡＮ ♥

Markus

⇢ hope (afab reader, f) Markus and reader support each other in Jericho.

Connor

⇢ on the couch (afab reader, s) Connor is needy and needs a quickie.

⇢ nurse (afab reader mentions of sports bra but otherwise gender neutral, f) Connor takes care of you while sick.

⇢ hot coffee (afab reader, f and implied s)

⇢ rushed emotions (afab OC, f) Connor needs Noelle’s help to help Markus.

⇢ into you (AO3 link) (afab reader, s) It’s the DPD’s Christmas party and Connor decides to make a move.

Gavin

⇢ big softie (amab reader, f) reader is hurt on the job and Gavin is worried sick.

ＴＨＥＨＯＢＢＩＴ／ＴＨＥＬＯＲＤＯＦＴＨＥＲＩＮＧＳ ♥

Thranduil

⇢the scent of spring (afab reader, f)

⇢ ada (afab reader, f)

⇢ pale beauty (afab OC, mild s)

#masterlist

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starssunsoftheinfinite · 2 years ago

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MasterPost Please Read

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

WRITTING REQUESTS {OPEN still working on that Loki fic but I'm now in a spot where I can fill in more requests while I do it! Might be a little slow though<3 my apologies}

ART REQUESTS {OPEN}

Full Fanfictions can be found posted separately here, as well as eventually a large collection of one-shots from Tumblr as I write them for ease of reading ☆

Who will I write for? {more to come}

☆MCU☆

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier {Please specify if you'd like WS Bucky}

Loki/Jotun Loki {Please specify if you'd like Jotun Loki to be canonical as in smaller than the usual frost giants or something more like the what if? Jotun loki}

Steve Rogers

Thor Odinson

Peter Parker

☆X-men☆

Erik lehnsherr

Scott Summers

Charles Xavier

Logan howlett

Alex Summers

Peter Maximoff

Kurt Wagner

Sean Cassidy

Remy Lebeau

☆The Witcher☆

Jaskier

Geralt

☆The Hobbit☆

Bilbo Baggins

Thorin Oakensheild

Fili

Kili

Thranduil

Legolas {Please specify if youd like Hobbit Legolas or LOTR Legolas}

Bard

☆The Lord of the Rings☆

Frodo Baggins

Samwise Gamgee

Pippin Took

Merry Brandybuck

Aragorn

Gimli

Legolas

Sauron {He would be portrayed in a physical form, please specify if you'd want your own description of him, please provide this in the ask, Sauron in his armor, Rings of Power Sauron, or the Sauron that's often depicted in fanart E.G the long blonde hair ect}

Elrond

Lindir

☆Castlevania☆

Alucard

Trevor

Would you write for ships?

Yes! Nothing incestuous {that includes thorki} or with questionable dynamics/age differences {e.g tony stark and peter parker} though.

Even if it's an obscure ship or a rare pare such as Loki and Bucky or something like that I'm willing to give it a go.

I will write ships for all the fandoms I have in my Bio.

Do you write x readers?

Yes! If you don't specify what gender you'd like them to be for, I will always go for completely neutral {Please message me if you notice any slip-ups that give the reader a gender identity in these fics!}

I'll happily write for Cis men, Nonbinary{transmasc or transfem}, Agender, Genderfluid, Transmen, or any other identity you'd like to be written about.

However, I don't feel comfortable writing Female readers, my apologies.

When requesting a trans reader, please specify things that you want to be mentioned such as does the reader wear a binder, have top surgery, or neither? Bottom surgery? Hormone therapy? etc... If any of these aren't specified I will do my best to keep the language either neutral or on the more masculine side for Transmasc or Transman readers {E.G referring to the genitalia as a dick in smut fics if needed whether they have surgery or not}

What kinds of things can I ask for in smutfics?

Im open to writing most kinks.

I WONT WRITE {more things to be added as time goes on}

age play {in nonsexual situations its fine}

race play

excessive food play {I'll write it lightly but I dont like to get too into it}

Non-con or dubious consent {this includes if both of either character is intoxicated in some way}

Urine play

Scat fetishes

Fart play

I will not write the use of slurs during sexual interactions

Can I be given a nickname if I want to ask anonymously but still want you to know it's me?

Of course! Just request a nickname or emoji/symbol to be used for you and Ill add you to a list I have to make sure only one person has that nickname.

Taken sign offs - 💚

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If you have any questions please send them in my ask box

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rivendell-poet · 3 months ago

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*･༓˚✧ ❝𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐑)❞‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « scenarios »

○ Aragorn ○ Legolas ○ Frodo ○ Sam ○ Merry ○ Pippin ○ Boromir ○ Faramir ○ Éowyn ○ Éomer ○ Bard ○ Thranduil ○ Tauriel ○ Lindir ○ Haldir ○ Elladan ○ Elrohir ○

GN!Reader | Wordcount : 2.9k (each individual around 170~ words) | Read on Ao3

TWS : References to a dead spouse/parent having a new partner after other parents death (Bard)

« 1, 10, 11, 12, masterlist »

𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐧

✧ You two weren’t sure how to tell the Fellowship, especially when your main problems centred around saving Middle Earth. Surely a relationship was inconsequential?

✧ In the end, it was Merry and Pippin who discovered your relationship by walking in on you kissing.

✧ You didn’t even know they were there until you heard the excited gasps, before Merry eagerly asks if he can tell everyone.

✧ Aragorn and you have talked about this before, but he still checks with you again to make sure you’re absolutely comfortable with it.

✧ The two of you give your agreements to the hobbits (and you still don’t think you’ve ever seen them happier).

✧ One of your highlights comes from Merry running up behind you and saying you and Aragorn are together before he realises who you are.

✧ Sam and Frodo awkwardly come up to you at one point and ask if Merry and Pippin have permission - it’s very sweet to see them blushing and trying to keep eye contact with the two of you.

✧ The rest of the Fellowship briefly acknowledges it, although it’s generally with just a nod to the two of you or a few words.

✧ The only exception is when there's sparring training - in which the men sometimes tease Aragorn for focusing on your match slightly too much.

𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬

✧ You both ask each other who they’re ok with knowing, and both of you agree that with the lists you provide - but you don’t want to publicise it needlessly.

✧ Boromir is the first person you end up telling, after he not so subtly nudges you while you’re (also not subtly) staring at Legolas.

✧ He teases you a bit, but you know it’s in good faith, and when Legolas appears to ask if you’ll join him he instantly pushes you towards him, bidding you to have fun.

✧ On his part, Legolas actually forgets to tell anyone. It isn’t until he’s asking Aragorn about if his date idea is acceptable with mortal customs that Aragorn interrupts him to confirm the two of you are dating.

✧ Legolas stands there for a second, and then he realises he hasn’t told anyone.

✧ Proceeds to go into a long and slightly unnecessary infodump about you, and all of the things he loves about you, and why he’s honoured to be dating you, and-

✧ Aragorn actually doesn’t interrupt, and it’s only when Frodo and Sam come over that Legolas realises just how long he’s been talking.

✧ Word spreads from Frodo and Sam to the rest of the hobbits, and the hobbits make it everyone's business. And soon enough the whole Fellowship knows.

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐨

✧ When Frodo had first talked about you to his friends, everyone wanted to know who the big-folk in the Shire was, they had been able to tell Frodo was a little star-struck.

✧ They’d also been able to tell it hadn’t exactly gone away, even after you’d been meeting for a while.

✧ Eventually Frodo tells them he can’t come to one of their regular meetings, and that same day the Shire reports seeing you and another hobbit go in the direction of the flower fields.

✧ It only takes the next time they see Frodo for Merry to give him a grin, and Pippin to give him a ‘subtle’ jab to the ribs.

✧ Frodo laughs at them, “You were right. They said yes, and it was wonderful.”

✧ The two immediately start cheering, and Sam congratulates him more quietly - although with just as much sincerity.

✧ Bilbo greets it only with a nod, and mutters to Frodo that it certainly took him long enough.

✧ (Pippin attempts a whistle the next time he sees you and Frodo in public. It starts out well, and then he laughs too hard to finish it. Especially when you start laughing while Frodo turns red.)

𝐒𝐚𝐦

✧ They’re the ones that finally convince Sam to ask you out, and they’re all hoping for you and him to work out - it’s just obvious to them that you belong together.

✧ They don’t see him for the entire day he asks you out, except very early in the morning to wish him all luck.

✧ And then they see him the next day.

✧ With the largest grin on his face, from ear to ear. As well as what might be a semi-permanent blush.

✧ The friends look around at each other before realising what that means.

✧ Pippin immediately rushes over to congratulate their good friend, with Merry right behind him.

✧ There’s some teasing but it’s all in good faith - they’re all relieved that you two are together.

✧ Although they tease Sam they’re a lot nicer to you, letting you know they know with smiles and a nod across the room.

✧ Frodo congratulates you on your courting.

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲

✧ One of the first things he, seriously, asks you is if he can tell his friends.

✧ Your confused as to why he asks, and he explains he doesn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position - and he’s more than happy for it to be just the two of you if that’s what you want/

✧ You reassure him that you’re fine with Pippin, Sam, and Frodo knowing.

✧ There’s obvious relief and joy on his face - and he grins before pulling you into a hug and thanking you. “Don’t worry, I won’t let Pip be mean.”

✧ The two of you actually see them the same day and Merry immediately runs over to Pippin.

✧ He almost tackles him into a massive hug, a huge grin on his face before glancing back at you with shining eyes.

✧ “They said yes!”

✧ (Although you find Merry’s excitement at telling others the sweetest, you have to admit hearing Pippin woop makes you smile as well.)

𝐏𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧

✧ Everyone in the Fellowship knew that he had a crush on you, because they all had eyes, although it was slightly less known you liked him back.

✧ Merry is the first to realise you’re probably going to end up together because Pippin asks him for a pep talk on the day.

✧ (Which Merry gives, of course.)

✧ The following breakfast he subtly goes up to Pippin and nudges him, to which Pippin gives a faux-wise nod before smiling and whispering ‘thank you’.

✧ Frodo and Sam both know him well enough to realise what’s happened, although they wait until you confirm it to say anything or make any comments.

✧ In the end you’re the one to ask if he wants it spread around, to which he answers of course - he just wasn’t sure if that was something you wanted.

✧ You reassure him that you’re fine with it, and you’d never be ashamed of this relationship.

✧ With your permission, he quickly gets around to telling everyone what’s going on.

✧ Even with every person he tells, the wonder that you’ve chosen him doesn’t diminish in the slightest.

𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐫

✧ You can't help smiling about Boromir asking you if you'll be his partner.

✧ Of course, the next day this does creep out while you're running drills with the rangers.

✧ Even Anborn's frankly terrible warm-ups don't get rid of it, something that is quickly noticed by your comrades. And commented upon.

✧ Not telling them who it is, even when pleading with you to say who's making you smile that widely, just makes them more persistent.

✧ Faramir denies all knowledge when they ask him, although of course he knows about the two of you in.

✧ In the end they take to calling him mystery man.

✧ Two days later all soldiers are together again, and Boromir discreetly buys you a drink and you plan to real later.

✧ As you turn around you can see your troops grinning, one of them mouthing 'mystery man'.

✧ Being the fair second-in-command you are, it only results in one extra lap next meeting.

𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐫

✧ He's, understandably, nervous about telling others about your relationship. ✧ Not because he isn't completely committed to you, he'd hang the moon and stars for you, but because he's worried about what people will say. ✧ And not about him - but about you. ✧ Faramir doesn't particularly want to introduce you to his father, so instead he introduces you to his brother. ✧ Boromir recognises you, and is immediately very cheerful and welcoming of you - putting the both of you at ease. ✧ Although he's very supportive, he understands it being kept a secret and promises that it is your relationship to tell. ✧ Faramir also offers to introduce you to his rangers, to which you eagerly agree.

✧ It's in a more casual setting - just a tavern, without the formalities of titles.

✧ The rangers are just as welcoming and supporting of you two, although they tease Faramir more than his brother did.

𝐄𝐨𝐰𝐲𝐧

✧ Aragorn had been the first person to notice when you two had started to like each other, before either of you had fully figured it out yourselves.

✧ And when you come back from your talk with Éowyn, he can see your blush and the small smile you have - the way you’re almost glowing.

✧ (Although most people with eyes would’ve noticed it too.)

✧ As such you don’t need to tell him, he merely comes up and congratulates you after the fighting is over - saying that you seem right for each other.

✧ Legolas and Gimli are also both with you when you come back from talking, and they realise as well.

✧ The both of them are a lot more vocal in their teasing about it - and you keep from hitting them by telling yourself it’s just Gimli’s way of not freaking out about the Dead.

✧ To be entirely honest your partner, and the teasing that comes with that, is the topic you’d much rather be thinking about.

𝐄𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫

✧ You don’t need to tell Éowyn, of course, as she’s the one who set you up in the first place.

✧ She’s also the one who, when you finally get back from your first date, whistles as Éomer kisses you hand in goodbye and looks entirely too pleased with herself when you both turn red.

✧ Théodred realises on the day Éomer first kisses you, as he too is part of the Rohirrim force that went out - following his cousin’s horse until he sees them jump off.

✧ As soon as he sees you two kiss he looks over to Éowyn for confirmation, who simply grins back.

✧ He congratulates Éomer in private, before asking when you two are going to inform Théoden about it.

✧ After asking his uncle for permission to date you, which Théoden gives freely, you are eventually formally introduced - although he recognises you as Éowyn’s friend.

✧ No-one else is personally informed, although word does get out about a prince of Rohan’s dating, and it becomes common knowledge that you two are courting rather quickly.

✧ For the most part there’s no bother, and the most comments you get are of people telling you how much they wish to be in your place.

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐝

✧ As much as Bard wants to parade you around the rooftops, walk with your hand in his and give you a small kiss when you’re close together, he does restrain himself.

✧ He wants to be with you, through all of this, but he also understands the importance of waiting and making sure something is real.

✧ The children love you, but he doesn’t yet want the children to know you two are dating.

✧ Bard knows he should probably wait longer than the three month mark, but he still loves you just as much as your first date and you feel the same.

✧ So over dinner he tells the kids that you’re courting, and feels a massive amount of relief when they all express enthusiasm.

✧ After that some friends and family are told, although most people become informed via the rumour mill.

✧ On a slow day, the news of you holding Bard’s hand or him kissing you goodbye becomes good gossip.

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐢𝐥

✧ It also takes Thranduil a while for him to be honest about your relationship.

✧ And again it certainly isn’t because of his lack of commitment. Because if you needed something done, he would do everything in his power to do it. To make sure you could smile.

✧ He does it because he wants you to be ready for the responsibilities and judgements that, unfortunately, are to come with you being with him.

✧ Judgements that mean nothing to him but that you don’t deserve, and therefore will help prepare you for.

✧ Thranduil will completely go at your pace for if things are moving too fast or too slow, constantly checking in and making sure you’re ok with what’s happening.

✧ Although, if things are going too fast he does generally slow them down. Making sure you’re not feeling pressured, and if there’s anything he can do to help you.

✧ It’s a small gesture in terms of what he could do, but when he sits next to you and looks into your eyes you know he’s sincere.

𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥

✧ When Tauriel is finally courting you, she just wants to show you off.

✧ To show the world how amazing her partner is - and that the two of you are together.

✧ If you'll let here, she'll happily he attached to you - holding hands, or giving you a quick kiss before you go out on patrol.

✧ Then when she's asked she's happy to confirm it, and try to give the person a list of the best things you've done in the past day.

✧ But if you ask her not too she also understands, and tries not to draw attention it it.

✧ Instead it's whispered in her friends ears with a sparkle in her eyes.

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐫

✧ Lindir is nervous about telling others, although handles it fairly well.

✧ He asks if you'll allow him to wait a week or so - both to figure out what to say and to make sure you want this relationship.

✧ You reassure him that you will, but that he can also take all the time he needs.

✧ All in all, Lindir is probably the one of the most mature when it comes to telling people.

✧ Simply asking for a moment of time from the people he wishes to know, and then informing them that you are courting.

✧ And trying to deflect all compliments onto you, while simultaneously trying to remember them all so he can tell you them later.

✧ For your part you tell the people that you know in Rivendell, and they congratulate you (and admit envy) that you've managed to court the elf.

✧ Everything goes fairly smoothly, although you can't fully contain your shock when the Lord of Rivendell comes to speak to you. Even if it's only to congratulate the two of you. Especially if it's that.

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐫

✧ Unsurprisingly, there aren’t that many people that Haldir knows in the lands of Rohan or of Gondor.

✧ Although a letter is sent that way, filled with surprisingly romantic prose that you wouldn’t expect from him, you know he won’t be able to tell anyone in his life until you go back to Lothlórien.

✧ But you do have Legolas to tell - and the remaining two of the hunters.

✧ You tell Legolas first, as his guard you’ve known him much longer, and because you want this to be something special.

✧ As elves, this will be (almost certainly) the only times you can say that you’ve fallen in love.

✧ Legolas is very congratulatory, instantly pulling you into a hug and saying he’s happy for you. Before pulling out of it and making you swear to tell him if Haldir doesn’t treat you well.

✧ It makes you laugh before you realise he’s being serious.

✧ To your amusement (and gratitude) Legolas then leaves to talk to your boyfriend - and you eventually find them standing outside and speaking in Elvish in quiet enough tones for you to not hear.

✧ Going over to them Legolas gives you a small nod, and Haldir offers you a smile before saying he’s glad that you have chosen him.

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐧

✧ Both of you are comfortable sharing what’s happening almost immediately, because both of you have lived in Rivendell for practically your entire lives and have a similar circle.

✧ In a way, telling others is awkward - but more because of the knowing smiles you receive, along with the congratulations.

✧ Of all the elves in Rivendell it seems that either Elrohir has told them, or that they’d always suspected it.

✧ Because of course the two of you somehow manage to be the most oblivious to your own relationship.

✧ Nearing the end of the day, Elladan takes your hand and gives it a kiss as you leave.

✧ “My apologies for managing to be this clueless for so long. I hope the rest of our lives can make up for it.”

𝐄𝐥𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐫

✧ Finds it far two funny that both him and Arwen have fallen for Gondorian nobles, and as such cannot wait to officially tell her.

✧ (Of course it was very obvious for a while before, and even more so when his courting proposal was during a public event - even though he made sure to catch you mostly alone.)

✧ Proudly tells his sister that he’s got the much better partner to become mortal for, and that she should be jealous of the two of you.

✧ And then only jumping a little when he turns around to see Aragorn behind him. Does not apologise for his statement, but does reassure him that he’ll always love his little Estel and-

✧ Aragorn cuts him off with his congratulations, before politely asking Elrohir to stop trying to steal you away from quite so many official duties.

✧ At which point Elrohir feels it only right to give a vague answer, before trying to locate you and the trusty pile of paperwork beside you.

✧ Comes into your room happily announcing the king has given his blessings. For everything.

« first scenario, previous scenario, next scenario, masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @xiaoseminence / @withasideofmeg / @ferns-fics / @fleurdemiel-145 / @chewgazellechew / @nilintakan / @stormchaser819✧ wish to be tagged?

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lem0nshark-writes · 2 years ago

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"Unexpected Mornings"

Thranduil x Male Reader

Type: Soft smut (?)

Word count: 1003

Warnings: technically a nb reader because no gender specific language was used but written with m!reader in mind :), elf reader, Thranduil being a FLIRT, Thranduil lowkey being a whore, maximum shameless flirting mode, nervous and awkward reader, not really a smut but I dunno what else to mark it, mostly it's leaning towards smutty themes XD so smut mark it is XD

Summary: You are Thranduil's personal assistant and have a major crush on him, and unknown to you it is very obvious and he knows.

A/N: Request by a lovely reader on wattpad.

My dudes sorry I didn't update for a while and it took me so long to get to my requests. I've kind of had a lot of bad things happen this past year and even more so this past couple of months and my mental health has gone down in that period but now I'm slowly getting back together and onto writing again so thank you very much for your patience and sticking with me! Also had a weird hyperfocus high happen this past 2 days and basically wrote 3 full oneshot requests within 24 hrs 😅 so expect more fics out these days once I get to edit them around and proofread them 😁

I hope you all have fun reading this little fic and have a great day!! 💕

You made your way down the tall halls of Mirkwood's palace, your robes flowing behind you as you took long strides through many corridors and turns, heading towards your king's chambers, hands tightly wrapped around a stack of papers.

See, you were king Thranduil's trusted personal assistant, always there whenever he needed it, doing everything and anything he asked and thus ended up high in his ranks. Second in command if you will, after Legolas that is.

You came to the tall doors of the entrance to his chambers, knocking quickly and not bothering waiting for a response, hurrying straight into the room, eyes glued to the papers nestled in your hands.

"Sir I have the papers you asked of me to find.." you hurriedly entered his room flipping through the papers to once again check and see whether you've brought all of them and if they were all in order, walking further into the room whilst doing so.

Finally looking up, to say you were shocked by what you saw would be and understatement. Cheeks shot up in warmth at the speed of light, placing a hand over your mouth and flushed cheeks and eyes and immediately stuttering, you quickly did an 180° turning around, eager to rush out of the room as fast as possible.

He was half naked, luxurious sleeping robes partially hanging draped down his arms and lower back, back fully naked and his smooth skin glistening in the morning light that creeped through the windows through the trees of the beautiful forest. Body partially facing you as he seemed quite unbothered by the state you caught him in, even seemed a tad bit amused.

"Oh my Erú I'm so sorry sir!! I should have knocked!" you mentally slapped yourself over and over again for your mistake, the image of Thranduil seeming to have left quite an impact on your mind, the picture not seeming to leave it whatsoever.

"I'm gonna get out and let you change-" you quickly made your way to the door, hurriedly trying to escape this hell of a situation.

Thranduil, staying quiet till now, smirks before speaking, amusement laced along his tone, "No please, help me out."

Hand on the handle you choked on air, trying to cough it out as casually as you could, hesistantly turning around before slowly making your way towards him, trying to avoid eye contact at all costs but feeling his teasing gaze all over you, not leaving your figure.

See Thranduil knew about your little secret, he knew you had a tiny little huge crush on him (and quite frankly he was fond of you too) and was 100% using it against you at all times, in a good way of course. Seeing just how much he could get you all flustered and bothered around him.

As you fumbled with his robes, suddlenly completely forgetting how clothes work, desperately avoiding eye contact and, well, staring at his perfect well toned body, Thranduil's piercing gaze burned holes into yours, so much it made small droplets of sweat trinkle your forehead and temples.

"You seem.. rather nervous darling Y/n, .. something on your mind?" he spoke as the corners of his lips upturned into a teasing smirk, tilting his head slightly to the side to get a better look at your face that you desperately tried to hide, thinking he doesn't have a clear visual of how nervous and flustered he made you.

"No, not at all sir-.." you pulled your lips into a thin line, eyes quickly darting over his clothes and your fiddling fingers, trying to get this over as soon as possible.

He humms, clearly letting you know he's not buying it as you finish up getting him all dressed up, "Do I make you nervous?" he asked with a smirk on his face, head still tilted slightly as his icy blue eyes pierced into yours, stepping in closer, your bodies now dangerously close to each other.

You tried not to bolt out of the room then and there, screaming internally but not moving an inch, frozen in your spot.

"S-Sir I-I.." you tried to mutter out but your tongue, and your mind too, being completely unable to form proper words let alone sentences.

"Hmm? What is it? What?" he spoke softly, dreamy gaze tracing all over your face, hand finding it's way into your long hair, fiddling with a strand playfully.

Your brain tried to process what was going on but you could swear it turned into a complete mush the moment you were in 1m radius of the beautiful king, and while you were trying to get your body to respond to your internal screetching, you failed to notice said king moving in closer, but the soft feeling of his lips on yours made sure you were brought back to reality.

Eyes darting wide open and brain working even faster it took you a bit to catch onto what was going on before you, without any thought made whatsoever, melted into the kiss, heat of the situation had your cheeks feeling like lava. But before you could completely turn into a steaming puddle in his hands he pulled away, soft smile on his lips.

"Is this what was on your mind?" He asked, tone voiced with amusement and slight smirk spreading on his face.

Your cheeks burst back into flames, "N-No!- Yes.." you looked down, slightly embarrassed by your apparently so obvious crush on him.

"Hm!" He let out, chuckling gently, amused by your answer.

He moved away from your still frozen form, fixing up his luscious hair before speaking, "Dinner tonight 8 pm, don't be late," he mused making his way to the exit door of his chambers with confident strike.

"Now lets go, we have lots of work to do!" he let out nonchalantly, hiding a smirk from your flustered self.

You quickly nodded, getting yourself out of your frozen state and quickly rushing to follow the tall man suit.

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we-do-be-writing · 3 years ago

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Accusations and Embarrassment

Thranduil x GenderNeutral!Reader

You were quite appalled, to say the least. Not only had your husband Thranduil, the king of Mirkwood, irrationally accused you of setting the dwarves free, but then he went and left the kingdom for battle without informing you. He often did this, leaving on his own so that he could keep you safe in the kingdom. Normally it would not bother you as much since you often went spider hunting with Legolas and Tauriel, but at the moment you were itching for something to take your anger out on.

You could not believe the audacity your husband had to accuse you of letting the dwarves out of their cells. You really had no possible reason to, aside from maybe a slight curiosity that had you wondering whether they could actually kill Smaug the dragon. It was not difficult to find out who must have opened the cells when the guards came back reporting one hobbit who was previously uncounted for.

The urge to grab more soldiers and join in on the five armies battle was strong, but you knew it would be a risk to leave the kingdom without anyone from the royal family. Plus, it was an even greater risk to take more soldiers since Thranduil had taken a large surplus. You did, however, send a messenger to your husband with the message on who truly let the dwarves out.

When the battle was over, and your husband returned with the soldiers, it did not help relinquish your anger since he did not apologize for his previous accusations. There was also the fact that he had let Legolas go off on his own without having him come back to say a proper goodbye. Although you were pleased by the letter your son sent you which explained his reasoning for leaving.

Nonetheless, Thranduil had yet to spend much time conversing with you, let alone giving you an apology. Instead, he was busy planning a celebratory ball for the defeat of Smaug as well as the new relations with Dale and Erebor. You had managed to avoid these duties, and release some of your anger, by once again joining the spider hunts. You used the excuse of Legolas leaving as your reason for leaving the royal duties to your husband.

The night of the ball approached fast and soon you were getting dressed in your chambers. Thranduil had apparently left earlier, but you did not have much time to think of it before Tauriel appeared to escort you to the ball. You entered the ballroom with a flourish, all eyes gravitating to the both of you.

"Welcome everyone! Thank you all for coming and please have an enjoyable time!" You addressed the audience with a smile. Many people smiled in return, with some clapping at your introduction.

You could see Thranduil hiding a smile where he sat on a makeshift throne that was placed in the ballroom. A glass of wine was placed in your hand once you had finished speaking and you accepted it gratefully. You slowly made your way through the ballroom towards the throne, conversing with almost everyone you passed as you went.

Apparently, you had been taking too long trying to appease the guests because as the third song came to a close your husband strolled up behind you.

"You look lovely this evening." He complimented, much to the adoration of the elder elves you were previously speaking with. He was a little caught off guard when you simply gave him a smile then went back to your conversation.

"Oh, your highness, your glass is almost empty." One of the elves said, pointing to your glass.

"Let me get you some more my dear." Thranduil offered, extending his hand to take your glass. You handed him the glass without even a glance in his direction this time.

Some of the elder elves raised their eyebrows, looking between you and Thranduil. One of the older ladies that you were currently talking to was hiding a knowing smile behind a cough. Now Thranduil was shocked, part of him upset that you were ignoring him in front of the other elves and part of him anxious about how much longer you were planning on keeping this up.

He silently got you more wine then rejoined the group that was formed around you. You did thank him as you took the glass back, it's not like you wanted to appear ungrateful.

The conversation continued with you keeping your attention off your husband. For a while he dealt with just keeping an arm around your waist and making his own conversations with some of the guests.

Eventually a slower song began and Thranduil extended one of his hands in front of you, an invitation to join him in a dance. The temptation to refuse him was high, solely because he had still not apologized for the previous accusations he threw at you. However, you decided that would be a touch too disrespectful and embarrassing to him.

So, you took his hand and let him lead you to the middle of the ballroom. Other couples started to surround you and join in on the dance. You let Thranduil twirl you around a little before you put the slightest amount of distance between you two so that you could look at him.

"Oh, so my spouse has finally decided to look at me." He whispers, trying to keep the conversation private.

You gave him a smile, but still did not verbally respond to him. Instead, you looked at him expectedly, waiting for an apology.

"Oh, but you still will not speak to me." Thranduil said, and you could see the gears turning behind his eyes.

"Why do you think that is?" You asked him, furrowing your brows as if you were also thinking of an answer. Thranduil's silence told you all you needed to know, that he had completely brushed over the situation that had happened only a little bit ago.

"Perhaps it is because you accused me of releasing the dwarves from their cells even though you had no proof and then proceeded to not apologize once the real culprit was revealed." You continued, helping him find the answer.

Realization dawned on his features, and he slightly bowed his head which caused his forehead to lean against yours. You kept your eyes locked with his as he thought about what he wanted to say.

"You're right, I had no right to accuse you of such a thing. I should have taken the time to get more information before I put the blame on anyone. I will not make excuses for my actions. However, know that I am deeply sorry for accusing you as well as for neglecting to notice my mistake and for not realizing that you were upset." Thranduil spoke quietly, keeping his head bowed and his forehead touching yours.

"Apology accepted, and you do look quite dashing yourself tonight." You replied, smiling widely at your husband before taking a quick scan of the gorgeous king of Mirkwood.

#Thranduil #Mirkwood Elves #Mirkwood #Thranduil Imagine #the Hobbit Imagine #the Hobbit x Reader #Thranduil x Reader #the Hobbit #the Hobbit Movies #x Reader #Reader Insert #Gender Neutral Reader #x Gender Neutral Reader #Thranduil x you #Thranduil x Gender Neutral Reader #the Hobbit x Gender Neutral Reader #the Hobbit x You

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mismaeve · 3 years ago

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A Serpent's Kiss

→ A Serpent's Kiss, Thranduil Oropherion x Gender Neutral Reader Requested by: @wormsmith Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: Descriptions of injury, blood, scars, angst, hurt/comfort A/N: I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this yet, this came together so quickly that I got confused. This is my spin on @wormsmith's request. I hope I did it justice and that you'll like it. I've taken inspiration from what I've read here, I'm pretty sure @the-ring-wasnt-even-pretty had the thread that inspired me, but I could be wrong. Anyhow, I hope you guys enjoy it, and let me know what you thought! Read it here on my AO3.

#thranduil #thranduil oropherion #thranduil x gender neutral reader #thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfiction #tolkienverse #the king of mirkwood #king thranduil #the hobbit

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catyo90 · 3 years ago

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Rest my Lord, Rest.

(Nothing too crazy just a snippet that i couldn’t get out of my head.”

Thranduil, lord of the woodland realm of Mirkwood. A powerful regal man, who like all was not immune to the plagues of nightmares.

No magic could help him for it was no spell that caused his nightmares to begin. Only a simple fear. One that he refused to tell anyone, even his own blood.

It was Legolas who came to you to help his father. When he came to you and explained how Thranduil had not slept well for some time you found yourself unable to refuse. You were after all a good friend of his, and once a lover to his father.

As a member of Lady Galadriel's court, it was of no surprise that many would seek you out apart from one other thing. You were well known for using non-magic healing methods. You had used magic from time to time to heal others but you knew as well that magic could only do as much and last so long before fading. Your real skill lied in herbs and other medicinal like ways.

When you arrived Legolas escorted you to the throne room to find it vacant of its owner finding yourself being led past the room, up to the higher levels of the trees to an elegant and gorgeous room, definitely meant to match the lord of the great woods.

Legolas paused as he bowed to his father who stood at the balcony overlooking his kingdom, the sight of him was both pleasing but worrying as well. His eyes were clouded with drowsiness from the lack of sleep, his hands were shaking as he sipped on the sweet wine from a nearby goblet. His sight merely glanced in your direction for a moment before he turned away with his gaze fixed on his son.

"Leave us."

Legolas merely bowed once more as he turned around sharply walking past you with a sombre expression. Clearly, the state of his father was worrying him. As the doors behind you closed, you waited for him to speak. The silence that followed was not welcome but you still didn't speak.

After a few moments, the sound of his footsteps coming closer and closer made you look up. He may have been weary from lack of sleep, but he was still a king. An elven king at that.

"It seems my son believes you can hinder my nightmares away."

"He has claimed that many have tried, but all have failed to ease your pain."

You said bowing your head slightly showing in your hands a small box filled with your healing equipment which made him chuckle only slightly.

"An elf such as yourself, using such simple tools. Not a sight many have seen."

"That may be, but you know as well as I, that you will not decline my offer of help."

Once more nothing was said as you walked over to the bed and gestured for him to lay down. He sighed gulping down the rest of the wine then walking to bed to lay down. You smirked as he laid down and while he made himself comfortable you closed the curtains on the balcony, almost making the room pitch black if not for the lantern's lit. You returned to Thranduil's side to place the box next to yourself. You opened it and grabbed from your bag a handful of Athelas, a weed to mortals but to elves a beautiful healing component. You placed a hand on Thranduil's forehead.

"Close your eyes, and breath slowly. I will handle the rest."

Thranduil almost spoke but at the sight of your eyes closed as well, he did as you said.

You breathed in and out hearing Thranduil's breath matching yours as you brought a cloth from the box and placed the Athelas in it tieing it together in the cloth and then you looked at a basin of water nearby by placing it in the chilled water.

As the Athelas mixed with the water, you placed a hand on Thranduil's. He still kept his eyes closed but listened tentatively.

"I must know what ails you, Whisper it if you wish but I cannot heal you without knowing the cause."

It was no trick or lie, knowing what ailed him and letting someone else know what troubled him would help ease his trouble. But you could not lie to yourself, you too were curious like so many others who were unable to ease the king.

Thranduil said nothing for only a moment but then whispered.

"I had a vision, a vision of your death."

He expected to hear you speak out or at least ask a question. But none came. I only heard you grab at the bag filled with Athelas.

“Some visions never come to pass.” You said looking at Thranduil with a smile.

Whatever the vision was, it was not the first time you were warned. Galadriel herself as well warned that if you ventured with Thorin Oakenshield to Erebor that fires would consume you, but it never came to be. Only small burns but nothing lethal enough to kill you. Galadriel was never sure if the vision she saw of you would happen but has since dismissed them as cruel tricks from dark magic.

Even the strange yet friendly wizard Radeghast warned you of a similar fate, but that wasn’t really a vision as he believed bad omen came from the animals, in which case it was just you find your herbs missing from hungry animals but he claimed it was bad luck. Once more nothing came of it.

Thranduil’s hand grazed yours for a moment. In your other hand, the cloth now soaked with water and the Athelas flowers sweet smell etched into the cloth, you rang it out placing it on his head. His breath slowed and his eyes became heavy as the sweet smell and the lack of sunlight made him feel tired much to his surprise. You smiled at the sight as you allowed him to hold your hand till you felt it loosen from sleep claiming him.

Standing from your seat you closed the box and returned your attention to Thranduil bringing your lips to his head like a mother to a child. You smiled as his hand gripped yours before you could leave bringing you back to his side as he spoke.

“Please, Stay till dusk falls.”

You only nodded returning to the seat next to him holding his hand on the bed watching carefully as the hours slipped away as a memory came to your mind.

A memory of loss, you were much younger than you were now when you heard of Thranduil losing his beloved wife. The three of you were childhood friends. No one had gone into the unseen realm, the other tormented and grieving and you as always, the healer.

After her death you went to her grave placing a great deal of Athelas flowers near, to ward away the evil of Morgoth from her resting place that would dare to enter. Upon returning to your home you found Thranduil drinking his sorrow away with tears staining his face, the sight made your heartbreak. You remembered walking up behind him and embracing him from behind as he let go of the tears and felt the pain in the comfort of a friend.

The memory made you waiver on the choice to stay or not but seeing him in a much more peaceful way made you decide to stay. His face relaxed with every passing second as the sounds of the kingdom started to become silent as the hours passed on late into the night. Suddenly his body slumped into the bed now fully embraced into a well-desired sleep.

Dusk has turned to Dawn when Legolas returned to find you and his father asleep with your head near his lap and his hand gently upon your head seeing your hand still in his as the quietness of the room made him slowly leave careful not to wake either of you.

The sound of morning coos from the birds awoke you and you saw Thranduil no longer asleep, his eyes were no longer clouded in fear and the warm hand that held yours no longer trembled. You smiled as you tightened your grip on his hand and for the first time in a long while he too smiled back.

#Thranduil #thranduil greenleaf #thranduil one shot #thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #hobbit #mirkwood #reader insert #gender neutral fanfic #elf x reader #elf reader #reader inserts #reader #hope you enjoy

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