#thranduil would let Legolas hold a sword

[mellethernil]

Thranduil would be over protective but also the type of parent where Legolas would run straight into a wall and his response would be this is why we don’t run in the halls whilst waiting for the inevitable cry in a blink he’s sweeping his little leaf up in a flurry of robe

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The king's toy - Thranduil x fem!reader

warning : smutish, use of wine, possesive, some degradation, obsession

Summary : The Elven King Thranduil, ruler of Mirkwood and his pretty toy. A human woman, no more than a second of beauty in the king's infinite life. But with every second they spend together, he consumes her more and more. In the end, she had no choice but to obey her king.

Info : So Thranduil or the Hobbit mini phase you could say has taken hold of me after I saw some scenes with my mother this morning. So have this little slightly more dark thing for the elven king

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°,,From this day forward, you are nin múl," said the king of the mirkwood. He looked down at her from the high throne made of deer antlers and wood. She was his beautiful human wife, actually a traveling singer in a group from different parts of the world. But with money, precious stones and the command of a king, her "companions" were worth more than her. Now she knelt before him, her gaze undecided and fearful, knowing that she belonged to him. But this fact, this absurdity, frightened her even more. His gaze let her know that he would bring her to so much more.

°He had not called her my slave for nothing. She quickly learned not to disobey his orders. His guards, his own son, had recaptured her from the forest within a few hours. No matter how many times she was carried away, the ropes closed around her body, precisely encircling and yet holding her tight. Her pleas were met with a pitying look from the prince. ,,Don't struggle...it makes it easier," he said to her as he brought her into the throne room. The rope on her hands was loosened slightly by Legolas, but she would not get out of the hall.

°,,Again and again! Understand at last that you belong to me," he demanded, gesturing to his son. She did not see the hesitant look as he knew what this would mean. But another look was not necessary as he gave his father his well-formed staff and disappeared with a dismissive look. The footsteps faded and it seemed dead silent between them. ,,Please, Your Majesty, let me-just let me go," she tried, wincing as the wood of the staff settled under her chin. He forced her to look at him and she flinched as his cold fingers laid on her cheeks.

°In the time she had been here, she had quickly learned that he was not purely interested in the physical. No, there was the night when he lost himself in her, wanted to hear the sounds she made, wanted to let everyone hear them. He took her body as he wanted, used her as he wanted and yet his eyes flashed in the mirror again and again when he took her. But just when their eyes met in the mirror, she saw his obsession as he pulled her close, his hands exploring her crown. He saw her beauty, the thought of holding her in his hands and having her for himself.

°Another thing besides the punishments from the blows with his staff, sword or hand was his emotionality. When he looked at her he was calm and almost happy, but when she used her talent to play the harp she was better than the elves. She was Thranduil's personal songbird, playing for him while the king looked at her, read a book or hummed along. It was the only time she blossomed and felt at ease when she played the harp. But it was then that she felt the pitying gaze of Legolas. But her father saw it too.

°He saw his son looking at the pretty creature. He imagined that he also wanted to give her something. Love and devotion. Something the king could not allow. Under other circumstances, he would have let his son have fun with it. But those would have been different circumstances. Now it was different and perhaps it was the rise of evil, the dwarves, the dragon and the ring. Maybe it was the loss of his wife, the emotions or it was all together that made him become so obsessive.

°She only became even more his perfect favorite, his pretty star in matching clothes. Initially white hip dresses with bright gemstones, robes and blouses that hid her body underneath. Only visible to the king in his bedroom when the wine flowed over her, wetting her skin and turning the white a dark red. It was a favorite of the king to kiss and lick the sweetly tart wine from her bed with the finest steel. Forged to leave her in place. Until at some point it went so far that her body was covered with the most necessary. Silver threads threaded with diamonds barely covered her nipples, a simple crown of wood with white roses on her head and a white, almost transparent fabric wrapped around her midriff. Her fingers were adorned with precious rings, gifts from her king.

°Whenever she saw him, she was nestled against his leg on the throne. Playing the harp, her gaze blank and evasive, resigning herself to her life was the harp that kept her alive. Before he pulled her onto his throne whether there were guests in the room or not. Who was to stop him for he was the king of mirkwood and his actions were right and proper. His son would not have the opportunity to mess with his diamond and everyone else would be honored to be in his presence.

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@tinfairies

[plainlo-inthemorning]

Thranduil’s secret

Pairing: Tauriel x Kili Rating: 16+ Warnings: Mentions of violence, emotional hurt (but fear not …!) Words: 1.800 k.

Disclaimer: Canon what canon? This is for all the lovers out there.

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“They want to bury him”.

Snowflakes fall silently around them.

Nature attempting to softly smooth over the carnage.

“Yes”.

Her king remains standing a few feet from where she reclines on the frozen rock, hunched over the still-warm body of a future that has been so cruelly taken from her.

From both of them.

She could rage against Thranduil.

Blame his indecisiveness, his selfishness, for the death of the dwarf.

Had the king only dispatched his soldiers to the mountain, as both she and the wizard so implored him to do, trying to appeal to the heart he has forgotten how to use, much could have been different.

But grief has pushed the fight out of her. In its place is only hopelessness and a pain the like of which Tauriel has never felt before.

Legolas, her old friend, has left.

She did not notice when, or if he said something to her before turning away. At this moment, she has no space for him, either.

“If this is love, I do not want it”, she cries, hearing how desperate she sounds, as she looks to her king. “Please, take it from me”.

Thranduil does not move, but the icy unkindness from earlier has melted from his features. If Tauriel’s own eyes had not been filled with tears, she might have recognized her sadness mirrored in the king’s.

“Why does it hurt so much?” She cannot seem to stop herself, clutching Kili’s gloved hand in hers.

“Because it was real”.

Thranduil’s unwavering answer takes her aback.

She looks down upon the dwarf’s bloodstained face again. A single tear streak has painted a faint silver trail from the corner of one eye and down the side of his face.

She saw it fall when he died. When the orc’s blade pierced his chest.

Flecks of snow cling to his thick brown lashes. He is so beautiful to her, she thinks sorrow will tear her apart if she has to let go of him.

They just found each other. He gave his life defending hers.

Slowly, she bends her head and does what she has ached to do for days, what she should have done on the lakeshore when he pressed the rune stone into her hand.

She touches her lips to his.

They are still soft.

His are the first she has ever kissed.

If this were a children’s bedtime story, she would breathe life into him with her longing.

Only when Thranduil kneels on the other side of the body, does Tauriel remember the king is still there.

She thinks he will ask her to stand and come away, and is ready to protest, to cling to Kili. She will stay right here until his kin returns to claim him.

But Thranduil does not speak.

Instead, he does something very unexpected, his face suddenly a mask of concentration.

His strong brows have come together in a frown: He raises a hand and lets it hover over Kili’s head.

“What … what are you doing?” Tauriel has to swallow her sobs for the words to come out right.

The moment drags out.

The king lowers his palm to place it lightly on Kili’s chest.

Tauriel, wholly confused, idly wonders through her grief if this is the first time in all his many, many millennia that king Thranduil has touched a dwarf with anything but the pointy end of a sword.

“He is a fighter”, the king says quietly. There is wonder is his voice. “And he fights, still. So stubborn …”.

“W-what?!”

Thranduil looks up, meets her shocked eyes.

“His heart has stopped, yes. But his soul is still here. It is holding on …”.

Now it is Tauriel’s heart that nearly stops.

“How do you…how can you-”.

Her king’s attention has returned to Kili.

He answers Tauriel without looking at her.

“I have certain … gifts”.

In typical Thranduil fashion, the king does not elaborate, and his matter-of-fact tone does not invite questioning.

Yet for once, Tauriel is too gripped with emotion to be deterred.

“Can you bring him back?”, she blurts out. “Please, my king, please? If there is any chance … I … I would do anything. Please!”.

Bringing someone back from the dead is reserved for the most nightmarish, ancient evil magic.

Until recently, Tauriel had only heard nonsensical tales of the practise whispered, and even in those, the someones that were brought back, were dangerous, mindless shadow apparitions of their former selves.

But if what her king is saying about Kili’s soul is true …

Thranduil appears to hesitate before speaking but when he does, Tauriel feels as if he is reading her mind. She has sometimes suspected that that is indeed a secret gift of his. Another one.

“The kind of magic required to awaken the dead is not only forbidden, it is destructive to the natural order of the world. However, if the soul has not yet left the body-”

He pauses. Decides.

“It can be done, if done quickly. No matter the strength of the warrior, the soul will be forced to leave this plane soon after death has occurred. I do not know how this one is still here”.

Love, thinks Tauriel. She does not know if it is actually true, or if it is her hope speaking. He is still here because of love.

Then the other elf gasps. Thranduil regards Kili’s face with disbelief.

“Of course …”, he whispers. His palm flattens on Kili’s pierced armour, fingers spread out. “Elvish blood runs in his line. Many years back …”

Tauriel stares at her love. Her mouth opens and closes.

His finely defined face, the shape of his cheekbones, so different from most of his kin.

Except for his brother’s, and the dwarf king’s …

Impossible. Yet suddenly it makes sense.

Did Kili know?

No, Tauriel does not think so.

As for Thorin …?

“Tauriel”, the elfking says. His voice is even but insistent. It commands her full attention. “If I succeed in bringing him back to you, you must never speak to anyone of what happened here. Not a word, do you understand? Not to his kin. Not to him. Certainly not to the wizard … And not to Legolas”.

Something flutters beneath the deep timbre of Thranduil’s voice. A bottomless despair struggling to surface, to be recognized.

And Tauriel remembers what Legolas told her at Mount Gundabad. About his mother’s death there.

She draws in a breath as she looks into Thranduil’s blue, blue eyes, but the king holds up a hand, reading her like a book.

“No”, he says simply but firmly, and it is a no that silences her. A warning.

No.

The king then touches Kili’s forehead and closes his eyes.

Tauriel is squeezing the dwarf’s hand so hard her knuckles are turning as white as the ground.

Stillness.

And then the air seems to shimmer and fizz around them, thick with swirling magic.

The snowfall has stopped. Or it can no longer touch them.

Thranduil is muttering words under his breath that Tauriel cannot make out. He leans forward, long blond hair falling around his set face. The tips pool on Kili’s shoulders like a veil of fine silk engulfing him.

Time stands still, and Tauriel forgets to breathe.

She has no idea how many moments go by.

And then Kili’s chest rises, and his lips part.

And the dwarf gasps for air!

His whole body shivers as his eyes fly open to the sky, wild, wide, alive.

He is alive!

“Kili!” Tauriel cries out and takes his face in her hands.

Their eyes meet.

He blinks rapidly, like he has been pulled out of deep water. “Tauriel…” Shakily, he raises his hands to her face as if seeing her for the first time.

“Are you okay?”, he asks. His voice is hoarse but urgent. “The orc, is … is he-”.

“He’s dead. It’s over. We’re safe, we’re both safe”. Tears are streaming down her face. “I thought I’d lost you!”.

“I thought so too …” Kili looks at her with utter wonder and bafflement. Then he grimaces and reaches for the wound in his chest. “Ugh, this one hurts, though …”.

“He needs tending to and fast”. Thranduil stands. A tiny droplet of sweat glistens on his brow. Or perhaps it is a snowflake. Are they falling again?

“Tauriel, I would advise you to take him far away from here, and never look back, but …”

He speaks as if Kili was not there.

“What is-”. Kili tries to focus on the tall figure towering over him, but is too stunned, and in too much pain, to fully register what is being said.

Tauriel shakes her head at the elf king.

“He will want to stay with his kin. They have suffered enough loss”.

She thinks of Thorin. The dwarf king is dead.

Thranduil sighs.

“Yes, I anticipate he will want to do that …”

“Tauriel…”. The dwarf winces. She looks back at him. She will never lose him from her sight again.

She brushes locks of soft hair from his forehead.

Does not notice her elf lord leaving. She will never see him again.

“I had a dream that you kissed me”, Kili whispers, his eyes searching hers. “A kiss of love …”.

She smiles through her tears.

“It wasn’t a dream … my love”.

Despite his agony, a smile spreads on his face. A bright, wonderful, boyish smile amidst the hurt and loss. He will face them later.

“…Love”. He grins, actually grins, and tries to sit up, but Tauriel gently puts a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Do not move too much. You are badly wounded. We have to call on the others to come help, and patch you up…”

“Then come down here to me”.

He shakes off a glove. Weaves his fingers through her hair.

She dips her face to his.

He gasps when she recaptures his mouth.

His lips are still soft, but now they move, as well. Melting into hers.

He pulls her closer, his other, gloved hand finding the curve of her waist, and she has to remind herself not to crush his wounded chest.

She wants to drown in his arms.

When their mouths part, they stay nose to nose.

“Never leave”, Kili whispers. His warm breath tickles her skin.

All of him is warmth.

Home.

“I won’t. Never”.

High in the sky above them, eagles cry triumphantly.

She takes his hand. Presses the smooth, oval shape back into his palm.

“It worked, Kili”, she whispers against his lips, before kissing him again.

Deeply, hungrily.

For the third time out of a million more kisses to come over their many, many years together.

“It worked”.

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Thank you for reading!

[vyxenisl0st]

Dating Thranduil Headcanons

Masterlist

(Gif not mine)

This man (elf) would spoil you. He would buy you the finest clothes and jewelry

Speaking of jewelry, MATCHING CROWNS AND RINGS. And not only the engagement ring, but many other rings. Have you seen this man’s rings?

He would love to go on walks with you. No guards, just the two of you. And if you are too tired, the two of you would ride on his elk. (Oh what I would give to have that elk)

He would let you “play” with his swords. Which is a very exciting thing, because he would cut anyone’s arms off if they would touch his weapons. And if you like it…MATCHING SWORDS

He would banish anyone who just looks at you the wrong way. But let’s be honest, everyone loves you. They loved seeing their king happy, and you were managing to do that every day

Surprisingly, Legolas warmed up to you very quickly. He wouldn’t quite consider you his mother yet, but he has no issue with his father and you courting each other. You would often train with Legolas when Thranduil would attend a meeting

Thranduil would love to braid your hair or just play with your hair in general. He finds it relaxing

Every evening he would just rant about his day. Every little detail, because he knows you listen to him

He would randomly wake up in the middle of the night and just look at your sleeping figure next to him. He would whisper sweet nothings into your ear, kiss your cheek and go back to sleep

He would call you “meleth nin” , “bereth nin” or just darling

He is not the biggest fan of PDA in public, but he wouldn’t hesitate to kiss or hold your hand whenever he gets the chance

He loves it when you read to him. Like him just sitting in between your legs, eyes closed, faced buried in your stomach, you reading to him while playing with his hair

He would be so proud of himself when he would make you blush. He does not get flustered easily tho, BUT, play with his ears and you will have him at your mercy. Or call him your handsome king. Or both. Depends on how submissive and breedable you want him. (Forget I ever said that)

[lem0nshark-writes]

"Campfire"

Legolas x Male Reader

Type: Angst, fluff

Word count: 1292

Warnings: Little bit of swearing, lots of awkwardness, bit of angsty thoughts, slight implications/mentions of homophobia, mentions of dislike/hate towards halflings, dumbasses in love, mainly swooning over each other and fluff, request from wattpad :)

Request: "Where reader joins the fellowship, and Legolas is very conflicted, due to the reader both being a man, and being half elf, which his dad would accept neither of :0"

The Fellowship had just finished dinner and were lounging beside the campfire, warm sparkling flames eating away the night.

You sat by Frodo, smiling lovingly at the funny tales Sam and him were telling about the Shire, sharpening your slightly dulled out dagger.

Legolas let out a long breath he didn't even realize he was holding, catching himself staring longingly at you but not doing anything about it. He watched as your strong but graceful hands worked the dagger sharp, as your eyes sparkled from the light of the fire, how your face contorted to a big smile as the hobbits said something funny he didn't quite catch, as your beautiful hair gently moved by the light breeze moving down the field, how your-.. "Shit.." Legolas thought to himself catching his thoughts stray afar and get consumed by you.

He couldn't help it, he tried so hard but he couldn't help it. He had feelings for you and that didn't and couldn't be changed.

It wasn't a long while since you joined the little adventurous group but you had already taken all of his heart and quite honestly Legolas didn't mind. But sadly he knew someone who would. His dad.

He knew Thranduil wouldn't accept of the two of you being together, especially because you are both men. And even more so, under no circumstances, would he accept of you being only half elven.

The dark thoughts plagued Legolas' mind as he stared off now into the campfire, worry, unknown to him, clearly showing on his face. He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice you approaching until you sat by his side and gently nudged his leg with your own.

"Is everything alright Legolas?" you asked worriedly, but with a smile.

He jolted back to consciousness, eyes quickly darting to your figure beside him and then to your face, cheeks slowly growing pink because you caught him off guard, and because of how close you sat to him.

"Y-Yes, everything is alright," he smiled quickly, trying to seem not as distracted.

You hummed softly at his answer, "You seemed like you worried about something greatly. I hope nothing too bad.." you worried for him, hoping he wasn't holding off anything too serious.

"All is well," Legolas added with a smile still on his face, "Nothing to worry about." "Shit he's pretty-" Legolas tried to calm his fast-beating heart and his racing thoughts.

"Hm alright," you let out, smiling at him, letting go of pestering him about it.

A couple of long moments of silence passed, Legolas' cheeks changing colours as his thoughts raced around. His eyes fixated on anything else but your face.

You finally decided to break the silence, remembering to ask him what you wanted to, "Do you need me to sharpen your sword and your arrows?"

Only hearing half of what you spoke Legolas choked on air cheeks bursting back into deep red, "Sharpen my what-"

"Your arrows and your sword," you pointed at his quiver filled with arrows, some of which he gathered back after shooting. Which seemed gently dulled out by battles. And his sword, laying scattered beside the quiver.

"Oh, s - sure," Legolas let out, embarrassed by what his brain had him think about, reaching for his quiver and sword which laid on grass beside him, and handing them to you.

You smiled, your obliviousness completely jumping over what had just happened.

You started your work, carefully starting to sharpen his weapons, enjoying a song hobbits just started to sing to fill the quiet night's air.

And your mind slowly drifted off to Legolas, who also seemed to have his attention stolen by the beautiful voices of your hobbit friends. You thought about the first time you joined the fellowship, how his otherwordly beauty caught you off guard and stole your attention immediately and how you couldn't stop thinking about him ever since.

You knew you didn't quite stand a chance, being a halfling that is, especially after you heard who his father is. But your heart didn't care, it kept soaring and hoping and you didn't mind one bit.

You wanted to confess to him so bad, ever since the moment you met him, but the time never seemed to be right, there was always somebody interrupting or it just didn't seem like a good moment. But right now, as the warmth of the crackling fire warmed you both and it's light illuminated his beautiful face, and the night's breeze gently picked up his beautiful hair, it felt right.

So you gathered all your courage and must and softly turned your body a bit to face his before speaking, holding back the nervousness of your voice in your throat.

"On another note, I wanted to ask you something," you started, now your hands fidgeting and eyes looking away from his nervously.

"Hm?" Legolas turned his gaze to you, giving you his attention, heart picking up at all the possibilities of what you could ask of him.

"I know it's not ideal.. me being half elf half man.. and you have all the right to turn me down without a question, but I just wanted to ask you, whether.. you would be alright with me courting you..?.. I-If you like guys even.." you spoke softly and quietly so that only he could hear, slowly trailing off at the end of your sentence into gently panicked mumbling.

Legolas' heart skipped a beat, he couldn't believe his ears and his heart leapt as if he'd ran a marathon, smile spreading into a wide grin that he could barely contain.

"W-What?.." he let out, barely catching his breath.

You looked up at him, eyes slowly filling with sadness that you tried to hide, misinterpreting his smile, "I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend you.."

"Yes!" Legolas quickly let out, grin now proudly plastered on his face as he looked at you.

"What." you looked at him in shock, your brain still not processing what he had said.

"Yes. I'd love you to court me." Legolas spoke with a blush slowly heating up his cheeks.

Your lips spread into a grin and you let out a breathy chuckle of happiness and relief until a troubling and dreadful thought dawned upon you once again, "But what about your father..?"

Legolas' smile faltered gently, remembering what he thought about merely minutes ago before he was interrupted by you

Yes.. he would be hard to persuade.. but we'll work it out." Legolas' heart remained hopeful, putting all the worry that consumed him a moment ago away, smile returning back to his face in full glory.

You smiled back, so happy he thought as such. And with a gentle nod towards his hand you asked for a permission to hold it, blush spread across his cheeks again and he nodded, reaching his hand to hold yours and leave a gentle kiss upon it. You blushed slightly as well, returning the favour.

As you two were engulfed in each other's gaze and attention, you didn't notice the whole fellowship has quieted down and were all looking at the two of you.

"At last!" Gandalf let out with a relief gracing his voice and everyone chuckled. "I thought you two would never figure it out!"

Aragorn grinned, "I agree!"

The two of you shared a glance, embarrassment written all over you both, but proceeded to laugh it off with the rest of them. The hobbits burst out into song and cheer, singing one in the celebration of the two of you, the whole fellowship joining along. As well as you both. The happy atmosphere quickly spreading around the campfire. Worry and troubles now left behind and long gone.

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Guren Bêd Enni - “my heart tells me.”

Pairing: Thranduil x wood elf!reader.

A/N: I’m supposed to be on a hiatus….I KNOW. So, anyway this has been a long time coming. I know about LOTR but I have to say I don’t know the ins and outs of the lore so much, it always held me back from writing it because I do like accurate details in my own work. Anyway. This is just a bunch of word vomit tbh.

Warnings: not much. F!Reader has pointy ears but I think that’s the only defining description I give. Maybe age gap? I mean he’s an elf and reader is an elf but a young adult elf 😅

Word Count: 1590

The swords clashed. The singing of the blades resonated through the training grounds as you pressed your advantage against your partner. At first he let you, his feet moving swiftly but you could not predict his next move. You never could.

You hoped to pin him against the carved trunk that was coming up fast behind him but Legolas had other ideas. He used the momentum of the move to carry him, pushing off from the ground and using the trunk for leverage as he walked up it with ease. His swords slid from their entrapment, twisting clean over your head to land behind you, the coolness of the blade just a whisper away from your skin.

“Dead.” He stated calmly. The point of his sword was removed, the telltale whistle sounded as he spun them in his hands before depositing them back into their scabbards settled on his back.

“Maybe we should see if you can best me with an arrow as well as your sword,” you challenged playfully. Your own weapons were planted firmly back into their holdings at your hips. Legolas grinned and clapped you on the shoulder, his demeanour cocksure as he headed for his bow.

“You know no one has beaten me yet,” he boasted, running his fingers up the bowstring before casting his sky blue gaze over you.

“We shall see.”

“You say that every time.” You didn’t reply. Feeling the tension of your own bow and loosening your shoulders. You enjoyed the times you trained with Legolas. It had started with him teaching you only for it quickly to develop into almost equal sparring matches. You were a quick study and he never tired of showing you new things. He would take beyond the caverns and into Mirkwood itself, pointing out plants and trees. Birds would come and whisper in your pointed ear, their delicate feet weighing nothing on your wrist as you listened to each and every one intently.

You were young for an elf, the only child of your age and so you’d been raised in the warmth and comfort of the very heart of the realm. Somewhat a rarity, you had brought joy and light to many an elf and they all wanted to impart their wisdom onto you.

Your skills grew in healing, sewing, wood carving and even black smithing but nothing came close to the time you spent with the prince.

Looking over at your friend you grinned, notching your arrow in the blink of an eye and releasing it quickly. It thunked into the target, just slightly to the left of where you had intended it to hit and you heard Legolas scoff quietly.

“You weren’t concentrating.” You nearly dropped your bow in surprise at the deep voice of the king sounding behind you. Respectfully you dipped your head, not trusting yourself to look up at him and see the evident disappointment on his face. “Too busy being goaded,” he continued disdainfully.

“Apologies, My Lord.” The words tumbled from you and you hoped the king wasn’t listening to the random beatings of your heart as it fluttered painfully with every word he bestowed upon you.

“Look at me.” You had no choice. Steeling yourself and straightening your shoulders, your gaze dragged up the fine material of his long tunic. Catching the perfection of the stitch work, marvelling in the colour of the thread that came alive in the sunlight. His long platinum hair was straight, not even rumpling as he cocked his head to the side when your gaze finally magnetised to his.

The crown of autumn leaves adorned his head just accentuating his regal and commanding air. His height had you looking up and you unconsciously lifted your chin with an almost defiant motion. He regarded you coolly for a moment as though words had failed him as soon as you looked at him.

His expression changed minutely, the tiny furrow of his brow, the slight down turn at the corner of his elven eyes and his lips parted. You caught every change, every reaction he gave you even when he closed it down as quickly as it had come.

“Concentrate.” His attention drifted from you with a downcast look giving you the perfect view of his profile and you almost choked on your breath. His eyes went back to you for a last look as he began to walk away and your head turned to follow him, until he had his back to you completely and he was leaving the training area as silently as he’d arrived.

“You heard my father,” Legolas jibbed. Without a thought he snatched an arrow up and split yours in two. Tossing your bow down you suddenly didn’t feel like competing with him anymore.

“I need a break,” you stated haughtily and stalked off.

“But we are not finished for the day!” He called after you, chasing it up with your name but he didn’t follow.

You headed to the library. You always came here to clear your mind, to get away from everyone as this place wasn’t tended often. The oldest scrolls were preserved, wrapped in clothes and sealed with beeswax to keep them from decaying. You enjoyed the smell and the peace. Here the sounds of the palace were deadened, even to elf ears and you revelled in that. Your favourite book was where you had left it and the spine cracked when it opened. Settling on the floor with crossed legs you rested against the shelves and got lost in the pages.

“So this is where you go.” The book jolted in your hands, tumbling onto your legs and you gasped a little at the sudden intrusion. Thranduil stood in the doorway, filling it almost completely with his wide shoulders as he looked around the room you had taken refuge.

“M-my Lord!” You stuttered and then felt embarrassed that you hadn’t heard him for a second time today. He stepped into the room, making it seem so much smaller. His presence was intoxicating, the rich scent he exuded made your head swim when you rose, inelegantly holding onto the shelf.

“Are you unwell?” He was before you in a split second, his hand reaching to touch your shoulder but it never made the journey. Curling into a fist and falling back to his side. Concern laced his deep tone and it was matched by the worry in his starlit eyes.

“Quite well, My Lord.” He straightened, his hands clasping behind his back.

“I see my son is dedicating his time to teaching you how to stay alive.”

“That he is.,” you agreed. Thranduil half turned and began to slowly pace towards the shelves on the other wall. His hair dripped down his back like hot spun gold and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to touch. Would it be as soft as the fur on a new fawn, or as thick as the mane on your favourite steed? How you wished to run your hands through it, to have him let you close enough to allow such things.

“He is quite taken with you,” he announced briskly, his tone resonating with a note of interest.

“And I with him, My Lord. He is a great friend.” The King paused and you could see half of his face from where you were watching him. His eyes looked up to the top shelf and he carried on perusing the books.

“Do you not desire something more?” You were stunned by the question and you felt a wave of yearning crest inside you. Thranduil sighed heavily, spinning on his heel away from the scrolls until he was almost baring down on you. You took an automatic step back, noticing the intensity of his gaze as he came to a stop. He was so close you could have leant forward and rested your cheek on his heaving chest.

Your eyes traced the flow of his hair, the perfect arch of his eyebrows and you drowned in the beauty of his features. His expression softened under your attention and he tipped further into your personal space. Your eyes lowered, bowing your head when you felt him gently nudge the top of your head with his nose. A pale hand came up to stroke your cheek, ghosting over the softness of your skin with barely a touch until he rested a long finger under your chin.

His mouth was so close, your erratic breaths bleeding together in the quiet and his eyes fluttered shut. A tormented expression crossed his face and his whole body shuddered slightly but he didn’t move away.

“I do desire something more,” you breathed. He inhaled sharply, blindly running a thumb over your lower lip and creating a tingle that had you almost moan with want. For a wild moment you thought he was going to give in, to kiss you deeply. You’d imagined it enough in the dead of night. Your heart pounding as you let your thoughts wander and tell you stories as you sat bathed in moonlight.

“Guren bêd enni…” he murmured, his lips almost brushing yours when a shout sounded from beyond the chamber.

“King Thranduil!” He jerked away from you. His crystalline blue eyes wide with surprise.

“My Lord,” reaching for his hand in desperation but he was already leaving. You stared at the spot where he’d been standing, your hand still outstretched ready to finally feel his fingers entwine with yours.

Maybe he’d reach back. One day.

You could wait.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

[wildwarcat]

For Forever Pt. 2

Legolas x Half-Maia!Reader

There is a taglist available for this series. If you would like to be added, please let me know! 

“King Thranduil wishes to speak with you.” A gentle voice said to you some hours after you had been locked away.

You glanced up from where you sat against the far stone wall of your cell and saw a red-haired elleth standing at your door. 

“Why?” You asked her genuinely, “What would he wish to know of me?”

The elleth shook her head, “I do not know. I am only following my orders.” 

You stood, brushing the dust from your stained cotton shirt and the light leather armor you wore over it and made your way to the door. The she-elf bound your hands in elven rope and led you upward from the dungeon toward Thranduil’s throne. You did not speak to her, nor she to you as you at last reached the throne of the Woodland king. 

Upon it, a pompous looking elf sat with a crown of branches and berries, who looked down at you with malice in his pale eyes. Beneath his throne stood Legolas, hands clasped in front of him. The prince did not acknowledge in you in any way, but looked to the she-elf with a sort of longing that could only mean one thing to you. 

‘Unrequited love.’

You inhaled sharply as Thranduil descended slowly from his throne, his silver silk tunic trailing behind him as he walked. 

“When my guards brought Thorin Oakenshield to me, I did not expect to hear that a human was in his company. Tell me, child, why have you come here in the company of this filth?” 

Your eyes narrowed at his words, your jaw stiffened. 

“I cannot speak of it, King of the Greenwood. I have been bound to secrecy by Gandalf the Gray.” You answered. It wasn’t a complete lie. 

Thranduil was unimpressed and unconvinced, circling you like a lion around a wounded deer, “You think I am a fool, mortal? I know Thorin Oakenshield intends to reclaim his title as King Under the Mountain. I know he intends to slay Smaug the Terrible and take Erabor for his own. All I ask is that you tell me what you have to gain from this.”

Your eyes flicked to Legolas, who was now watching you with intense curiosity. You sighed heavily; you could not reveal who you truly were, but you could tell the king your purpose. 

“In truth, I have nothing to gain from joining Oakenshield. I accompanied his party solely at the request of my mentor, Mithrandir. He believed that the combined power of two magic users would be substantial to slay the dragon that sleeps beneath the Lonely Mountain.” 

“You possess magic?” Legolas asked, stepping forward to your surprise. You nodded, feeling the urge to be honest with the prince more so than the king.

“Magic beyond your comprehension.” You told them, the beginnings of a smirk echoing upon your lips, “Though as I said before, I am bound to this company of dwarves by order of my master. My magic shall not be used within these walls. You have my word.” 

Thranduil eyed you cautiously, then looked to his son. 

“Tir- hi curunir.” He ordered him. Legolas nodded once and strode over to stand behind you, dismissing the she-elf. 

“You think I’d go against my word, Thranduil?” You sneered, “My words hold more weight than you could possibly imagine.”

“Go.” Thranduil growled as he returned to his throne. Legolas set a hand upon your shoulder and pulled you away, steering you back in the direction of the dungeons. 

Once you were securely back in your cell, the ellon smirked. 

“You should have mentioned that you wielded a weapon more powerful than swords, Y/N.” He said, his hands clasping the bars on the door. You propped yourself up against the stone beside it, your head banging against the rock lightly. 

“It would have made no difference. Both I and my magic are bound to the dwarves; I cannot leave this place until they do.” You confessed, your eyes meeting his for a moment. Why did your chest suddenly feel tight? Surely it was a bit of claustrophobia… right?

“Why are you telling me this?” He asked softly, his head tilting ever so slightly.

You shrugged, offering a kind smile to the elf, “It seems that you would be more understanding of things than your father. Not that I trust you completely, of course, I’m no fool. But I imagine that if it was you seated upon that throne, we would not be locked in these cages.”

For a moment, Legolas stood speechless. No one had ever even mentioned the thought of him becoming King of the Greenwood, despite it being his birthright. In fact, he had never even given it much thought himself. But then his father’s voice crept into his mind.

‘What would a mortal know of such things? Men have no place among us.’

The prince’s eyes narrowed, his smirk faded away. He stepped away from the bars.

“You forget to whom you speak.” He growled, finally walking away. Your gaze followed him until he was out of sight, before you slumped down to the floor, burying your face in your hands. 

“We’re never getting out of this place.” You whispered to yourself.

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

Eventually you lost track of time in the dungeons of the Greenwood. Not that time ever truly mattered to you, but it did matter to the quest of the dwarves. 

Legolas did not return to your cell, until one night when you heard the voice of an elleth speaking to Kili, some cells below you. Her voice was familiar, and you soon recognized it as the one belonging to the she-elf you had met before. From an outcropping of rock just above you, you could see that Legolas was watching this elleth speak to Kili, disdain clear upon his face. You strode over to the bars of your cell and glared at him, your y/e/c eyes ablaze with anger. 

Eventually he caught sight of you, and in silence crept over to your cell. 

“You’re staring, nin coth.” He muttered, his blue eyes meeting yours intensely.

“So that is what I am now? Your enemy?” You asked him incredulously, “I harbor no resentment toward you.” 

Legolas scoffed, “Your glare says otherwise.”

“I am locked in a cell from which I will likely never leave. You would be angry too.” You spat quietly, not wanting to cause a scene, “I’ve not been trapped in a cell like this since my days in Cair Andros.” 

“You have ventured to the island stronghold of Gondor?” He asked you, his tone suddenly intrigued. Your gaze softened, your brow arched. 

“Only once and not by choice.” You answered, “I was sent to Gondor by Saruman the White to acquire a seeing stone, one of the Palantir. He had intended to account for all the lost stones so as to know who may be watching his doings in Isengard. I had planned to sail south on the Anduin to reach Osgiliath, but ended up in the custody of some unruly soldiers at Cair Andros who had mistaken me for a smuggler from the North.” 

Legolas’ eyes lit up with wonder and curiosity at your story and you soon came to realize that he had never been to these places before. 

“Have you never left this forest?” You asked him cautiously. He shook his head. 

“My father keeps all of his people within our borders. He will not even allow us to destroy the nest of spiders that resides in Dol Guldur to the south. But long have I desired to step foot beyond this place and see the wonders of this world.” 

You smiled wistfully at him, resting your forehead against the bars, “Perhaps one day, if I am ever freed from here, I can show you what wonders this world has to offer.”

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

Translations: 

Tir- hi curunir -- Watch this wizard

Nin coth -- My enemy

Taglist:

@idk-whatamidoinglmao

[edensrose]

Hi!!! I absolutely love your writing and I'd like to make a request if possible.

Legolas with a fem human reader who maybe is in a traveling tribe of warriors and they go to mirkwood because they have a special style of fighting that thranduil wants the elves to learn. Maybe legolas can be really hesitant about reader at first, because she's human- how can she be better skilled at fighting than elves? Not quite enemies to lovers but also kinda sorta? Thank you!!!

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ legolas ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. legolas was quite skeptical about the idea of learning from a human warrior, such a notion was what sparked a thrilling rivalry between you and the prince of the woodland realm

· ⊰ note. thank you! I'll gladly write this for you ✨

ʚ It took a lot of convincing on Thranduil’s end, but eventually he heeded the words of the King of Dale: Bard, and allowed for the warriors to come into Mirkwood for the sole purpose of allowing them to teach the elves their ways. Many were sceptical of this, especially the prince who at first was not too keen on the idea of being taught how to fight by any other race 

ʚ This of course led to a few headbutts between your group and a few of the elves, however, any eventually complied with the notion in favour of keeping the peace between two kingdoms ( of course, regardless whether they got along or not it wouldn’t affect the bond between Dale and Mirkwood, rather, the humans didn’t wish to be sent back to Bard who would then have to face with Thranduil’s ‘ I told you so’s ’ ). However, this did not mean that Legolas was completely on-board with the idea

ʚ While he was not outright rude and difficult with your group, it was evident that he was skeptical of your skill and tactics, and whether or not they would actually benefit the elves. The leader of your group took notice of this and decided to pair him with her best warrior - you.

ʚ Let’s just say that you and Legolas didn’t get along straight off the bat. While he may have been respectful you could sense an aura of scepticism and borderline prejudice. Due to this you had created an opinion of him before-hand which resulted in a bit of a rocky start, especially during one of your first sparring matches where you beat him. This, unironically, sparked a vigorous, ever-growing rivalry between the two of you. You were determined to show him that you were on his level whilst Legolas merely wanted you to know that he would simply not back down to you just because you were a guest of Mirkwood. There would be continuous sparing matches, archery contests, little bets here and there, staying up till midnight in a duel or swords, etc.

ʚ This little rivalry went on for months, with both of you learning skills from one another as means of adapting to each other’s fighting styles and skill-sets. In the end, your little competitions achieved exactly what the original goal was. And somehow, somewhere, you started catching feelings. You weren’t sure what came over you, but with every interaction you found yourself falling deeper and deeper for the prince of the Woodland Realm - and you were beginning to realise that the way he looked at you was far from when you first arrived 

ʚ Suddely, the tension seemed to be something more, a yearning for something else other than victory over one another. It was obvious to most of those observing, and most especially to the two of you. And yet you both continued on, pushing away those feelings and instead allowing them to fester and grow - until neither could hold back any longer 

ʚ It was during one of your various sword duels that it happened, Legolas had disarmed you of your sword and promptly pinned you to one of the trees. No words were said, nothing but the exchange of your eyes as you both tried to sate your ragged breathing. Before you knew it his lips were pressed against yours, your hands finding his hair whilst his took your waist. That was the first night

ʚ It soon turned into something far more than just rivalry. Now the two of you were all over each other, at any chance that you got. What was once solely a competition to one-up the other morphed into a blooming romance which went on for the rest of your visit. Even when you had to leave him behind in Mirkwood after the duration of your stay. You were the prince’s and he was yours.

[celeste-clearwater-06]

hello. it is i. so! i was wondering if you could do a little ditty abt nail polish with the company and/or the fellowship? basically like modern girl in middle earth type stuff, and she realizes that she has nail polish on her which is something they totally don't have in middle earth. basically headcanons abt like how they would react to painted nails and which one of these mfs would let me paint their nails. cuz like - they dont know its just a "fem" thing here so no toxic masculinity. ty <3

OMFG I'M SO HYPED FOR THIS! I just picked a few random Tolkien characters that seem to have a lot of attention, so I hope you like this!!

Nail Polish (LOTR/THE HOBBIT X READER)

Frodo~

I feel like Frodo would be very skeptical at first

Because, come on, a girl falling into Middle Earth out of nowhere??

However, his interest is certainly peaked, seeing you twist the brush away from it's blue colored bottle as you smile down at it

"What's that, you've got there?"

"Oh, just some nail polish!"

He watches with curiosity as you perfectly decorate your nails with the periwinkle color

"How interesting..."

He may not want to have his nails painted at first, but has this deep fascination with how perfectly you can paint them without screwing up

Soon, he forgets all about the ring as you paint your nails, sitting cross-legged and starting with those huge blue eyes with interest

If he allows you to paint his nails, he would smile the whole time

I mean HIS TINY HANDS?!?!

What a bean 🥺

Tries his best not to chip the color when he leaves for Mordor with Sam

Gollum is actually really interested with his nails

"whAT IS IT prECI0us?!?1!1?"

But Frodo will swat his hands away, because "it's a gift from someone important."

The one thing that keeps him smiling along the way 😊

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Legolas

Elf prince is so interested!!

He thinks the spring green color looks so pretty in the bottle

He's obviously not used to most thing from your world

Asks politely;

"How do you use this?"

"...can I show you?"

So whenever the Fellowship stops for the night, he watches with amusement as your brows furrow and you stick your tongue out in concentration

Legolas sits very still, so it's easy for you to paint his nails

How does he keep them so clean?!

He's low-key obsessed with how satisfying it is...

wAIT...

Now HE wants to paint YOUR nails?

THE PRECISION...

He's so good at it!

Legolas is so patient and calm

He says it reminded him of making flower crowns I guess?

And he doesn't even mess up once 😳

THE MASTER NEEDS TEACHING, DAYUM-

He gets so happy with how the color matches him!

Forgets that you have to let it dry at first, so it gets a bit smudged when he draws his bow

Upset Legolas :(

But you fix it for him, and he's happy again!

CAN

NOT

STOP

LOOKING

He's amazed!!

And so proud!

Pretty Elf 🥰✨

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Pippin

Pippin is very confused, to say the least

He though it would be something relatively close to a nail filer

But once he sees the pastel yellow color, on your own fingers, he has to have some!!

WILL

NOT

SIT

STILL

While you're trying to paint his hands and feet (by request), he's telling you great tales of the shire, a throwing his limbs around to exaggerate his story

You've to clonked him on the head and scolded him quite a few times

For some reason, he's saying it tickles??

"It does! The brush is like feather!"

Painting his toes it a lot easier, seeing he can't really feel much on his feet

The color goes perfect with his green eyes 🥴

Also, let's not forget that Pip is the definition of "disaster-on-legs"

After the polish dries, it immediately chips, since he's busy causing trouble with merry or practicing his hand with Boromir

He really wants to paint your nails, and you let him do so...

Poor hobbit has zero clue with how this shit works 🤦‍♀️

He feels so bad about getting it all over your fingers, but you assure him it'll be fine and that it will eventually wash off in a few days

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Boromir

HE WANTS TO USE IT RIGHT AWAY-

Pink, as cliche as it sounds, suits him so well

He's just amazed!

Also, really likes the smell 🤔🤔

Is grinning like an idiot while you're painting his nails

"Such talent and patience you have!"

"Pfft, it's really nothing. Takes a bit of practice is all."

Afterward, is flashing his bright pink nails at everyone

"Look at Y/N's spectacular skill of hand!"

I think Boromir would have a habit of picking at the polish after it dries

But that's okay, he doesn't mind too much

It gives him more time to spend with you while you repaint them!!

He's afraid he'll screw up your nails if he tries to paint them, so he never offers

That's alright though, since you know he only means well 😊

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Thorin

Oh he's so regal

You were in Rivendell, digging through your purse, and suddenly

Tada!!

A deep navy blue bottle, probably about half empty was revealed

He was curious, but tried not to let it show, since that would damage his royal ego 🙄

"What is that?"

"Oh, just some nail polish. Wanna try some?"

Thorin would insist that you show him how it works first

And so, you did

He definitely admires the color

But defied any suggestion of you painting his own nails

That would be "un-kingly" 😤

Okay so maybe he lets you paint his pinky finger when nobody is around

But he smiles (a rare sight) while watching you paint your nails

And does give a somewhat compliment at your articulate handwork

"It looks exceptional as artwork."

"Erm... Thanks?"

He definitely thinks the color matches you beautiful skin tone 😌

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Kili ~

Prince Dumbass LOVES red

It reminds him of Tauriel 🥰

One night, you left your bag opened on the ground as you went off to get some food from Bombur, and Kili couldn't help but notice the glittering ruby bottle inside

He grabbed it, being the nosy prince he was, and examined its glow in the firelight

"What kind of jewel is this?"

"Oh hey, my nail polish!!"

Very confused

"Why does it smell so strange?"

Thankfully, being a dwarf, his fingernails are a bit bigger, so there's more room and it's easier to paint

He, like Pippin, has issues with sitting still and gets you really annoyed

"I swear to all things fluffy, if you don't sit still I will cut off all of that hair in your sleep-"

"😳"

He immediately smudges them, and then you have to paint them AGAIN

Once they FINALLY dry, he won't let anyone touch them

"Stop it, Fili! You'll damage them!"

He can't stop touching them, since it's so smooth!

The others tease him, but he doesn't mind, as long as they stay nice and clean

Turns into a whiny toddler the MINUTE they chip

"Y/nnn! I need you to repaint them!"

"I just painted them yESTERDAY-"

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Fili

A mix of Thorin and Kili when it comes down to it

Definitely prefers gold 😌✨

Sees you painting your nails one night in the library in Erebor

"What have you got there sagh (friend)?"

"Just some nail polish. Wanna try some?"

Once again, he wants to see what it does like Thorin

And you of course happily oblige

Admires the color greatly

He says it reminds him of the gold floors in his kingdom, and it makes you chuckle

Fili loves to have his nails painted, and especially with such a regal hue 💅😌

DAMN does it bring out those baby blues 🥴

After that, you stare at his hands a lot, proceeded by his flirtatious teasing

Shows up Kili's sparkly red polish with his "more extravagant" color

He is also very protective of his nails and tries his very best to keep them from chipping

You love watching him hold his weapons and spar with his pretty nails 😳

Even with his larger hands, made for forging and wielding huge swords and axes and smelting, he had an incredibly steady and gentle hand when it comes to this subject, so he's AMAZING at painting his and your nails

Fili insists that you have matching nails all the time, and it's a regular thing for you to hang out and talk about your day while you paint each others nails 🥺

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Thranduil

Have you MET this man?!

KING OF DIVAS 💅💅

At first, he's very weirded out

"What do you have in your hand, mellon (friend)?"

"Oh, just some nail polish."

"Interesting..."

Thranduil watches intently over your shoulder as you carefully decorate your nails with a glossy black polish, sitting directly next to his throne

"Do you want me to paint your nails?"

"Hm?"

He reluctantly agrees, placing his BEAUTIFUL hand in yours and stares down at your gentle talented work

He loves the color more than he cares to admit, and much like his son sits very still as you lead the brush over his clean nails

The elf king loves seeing your tongue stick out in concentration

You remind him that it'll need time to dry out

And as he says in his notoriously sassy voice;

"I thousand years is a mere blink in the life of an elf... I'm patient... I can wait."

Ofc, you just scoff at this and tell him it'll only take about five to ten minutes

He just nods and stares back down at them with admiration

Thranduil doesn't do much around his kingdom, except maybe get a bit drunk and direct orders to his guards, so it's no worry about him chipping or ruining his nails

I hope you liked this, just as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Have a lovely day, and don't forget that requests are open as always!! ❤❤😊

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Part 86- Heat

Notes: I am going to discontinue the summaries and just leave important notes when needed.

All Hallows' Eve 11 pm

As Thranduil helped you up off the floor after the stage explosion, Lestat's vampire clan approached you and they were far from happy. They thought you had tried to hurt their leader when in fact you were only trying to protect him and Marius from the Nazgul. You couldn't blame them though as your newly discovered powers went awry and accidently blew up the stage, sending Marius and Lestat hurling through the air and the rest of the ballroom occupants crashing to the ground.

Thranduil shoved you behind him as he swiftly revealed his sword, fearlessly swaying it about in front of them as Legolas and Haldir stood at his side with their large bowie knives in hand. In only mere seconds, Maharet and Julian was at your side and Armand, Lestat and Marius stood between the volatile vampires and your three keepers. Selene and Garrett were nowhere to be seen and you had to wonder where they had gone.

"Stop!" Lestat ordered to his followers. "My rules and regulations remain in tact and you will comply or suffer the repercussions of my wrath. No harm comes to Josie or her company." They all cowered back and hissed as Lestat's eyes blazed bright red. They didn't dare cross him. He then turned and walked over to you.

His face held no expression so as usual, you couldn't read him to tell if he was angry for what you had done, but his eyes, the way he looked at you told you he was both elated and shocked that you would defend him. You were still quite intimidated by his demeanor.

"L..Lestat...I...I am soooo sorry. I was only trying to help. My powers, I...I don't know what happened." you stammered as he kept coming towards you with a blank stare. He came up so close to you that you gulped and began to raise your hand to stop him.

His cold hand briskly grabbed yours making you gasp, then he gently held your hand as he stared at it.

"I know that your beautiful beating heart was in the right place. No human has ever come to my aid. It will not be forgotten." Lestat actually formed a kind smile as he let go of your hand and walked back to the others. "The dealers may have been handled, but Richard still lurks about so the danger is far from over. Not to mention Raven and Caroline."

You quickly turned to your father in panic. "Daddy. You were with her, where is she???"

"I am sorry my child, the blast knocked us both over and broke my hold on her. She flew off before I could react. Your friends, Selene and Garrett went after her."

"Oh god. This is not good. We have to help them. And...she has the pendant. How stupid could I have been to not take it from her while I was in her face."

"You mean this pendant?" Julian grinned and dangled the emerald from his hand.

"Daddy! Oh my god. How did you..."

"While you all were tending to the show, I took it from her scrawny neck. I know what it is and it's significance. I also knew that she should not be a bearer of it. Needless to say, she had many choice words for me in doing so. She has wicked plans for this little gem that holds such big power."

"It belongs to Haldir. May he have it?' you asked your father as you smiled at Haldir.

Julian held it out to him and Haldir took it. He then turned to you and took your hand, placing it on your palm and curling your fingers shut. "You hold onto this for now. Something tells me you will need it. I can feel the evil Caroline has conjured just as your father had said."

Just then, the doors burst open and in walked Aragorn. You could see unfamiliar guards outside and a hooded figure walking about.

Legolas and Haldir's faces lit up and they ran over to the exhausted looking ranger.

Legolas joked of him of being late and told him he looks terrible. Aragorn laughed and then his face fell serious. "That is because we had some unexpected company to fight off. Nazgul attacked."

"Why would they come after you?" the prince asked in confusion.

"I guess they were hungry as the humans are slim pickings around here." Aragorn also joked. He then turned to Thranduil. "A rival of yours has arrived with his army and assisted me. Lord Narcisse is here."

Thranduil's expression spoke volumes. He was less than pleased to hear of this. You on the other hand were amazed as Narcisse made it very clear to you he would not be a part of the vampire dealings. You had to wonder why he changed his mind and you would now have the chance to ask him. Stephane walked in while removing his cloak and stared straight at you.

"Always a pleasure Josephine." he politely said and bowed his head to you. An uncontrolled smile began to form on your face as you were held in an eye lock with him. This man had completely gotten on your last nerve back in Dorwinion, yet you found yourself undeniably thrilled he came.

"There is no pleasure on this end of your appearance here. Why have you come? It is none of your concern and there is no use for you here. Do you not have wine to create?" Thranduil griped as he came to your side, glaring down at the newly revealed warlock.

Narcisse was in no way intimidated by Thranduil's mockery and display of obvious jealousy. At least that is how Stephane saw it. "I assure you, King Thranduil, there are many uses for me." His sapphire globes glided back to yours. Your eyes slightly widened and looked away as you now felt a bit uncomfortable with his statement. He then returned his gaze back to your King. "One of most importance is that of the vintage you so desire. It would be a shame if there were to be a sudden shortage....Now, if we are through with the pettish nonsense, Josephine, I came because my horse I lent you made it's way back to my kingdom in a panicked state. I knew something was terribly wrong here and he confirmed it to me. I then knew I must come, regardless of how I felt." Narcisse was genuinely sincere in his words and you were beginning to see him in a different light. He risked his entire kingdom by coming here...all to help you.

You went to speak but Julian came rushing up. "Stephane...old friend. You are certainly a sight for sore eyes!"

Narcisse's eyes popped. "Julian?? How is this possible? You...died."

"I am very much alive my friend. Long story short, Caroline killed me and I have been held here all these years."

"Well son of a ...." Narcisse grinned ear to ear and he and Julian gave each other one of those manly back beating hugs while they laughed. You were blown away as you had no idea they knew each other. Of course it made sense that they would since they are both warlocks but the world is full of them. Small world in this case, you thought as you smiled at their happy reunion.

"Josephine, your father and I go way back. I knew of you as a child but never knew what happened to you after your father's passing. My reaction to you showing up on my doorstep should now be understandable to you, for it was then that I knew who you were once we touched. What a magical moment that was indeed." For a moment, that memory flashed through your mind. Both of your fingertips lit up with a magnetic electricity and sent you both whirling onto your butts from the shockwave. "Julian...I must also warn you of my horse's visions. Your brother, Jareth is amidst and canoodling with the deadly dhampir."

"Wait, what???" You spun around to Thranduil..."Jareth, the man you told me of that is called the goblin King? The man you recognized from my description of when I dreamt of him, or should I say memory of when I saw him all those years ago.?"

"Yes...as far as him being your father's brother I did not know of nor did I know he was prowling around here with Raven. The question would be why. This is by far not his cup of tea."

"Daddy??? That evil man is my....uncle?"

"Sadly, yes. One of 6 more as I am the 7th. Only he and one other lives. You saw him you say? When?"

"Well...I dreamt of him...but soon realized it was an actual memory. It was Halloween. I was 15 and you had just become sick. I saw him outside on my way to the neighbor girl's. He told me time is short and he would see me soon. I...I must have blocked it out, or he made me forget? Why...why would he want anything to do with me?"

"For he too has desired ashmole 782 just as Caroline. He knows the great power it holds for our kind. Neither should ever get their hands on it or doom will fall on all of middle earth. The book of shadows is not meant for evil. Jareth knows I have concealed it. He may be possibly trying to use you against me."

"But I...I do not know where it is??? I never even knew it existed until Raven told me about it, which also makes no sense. My mother was furious when she found out Raven had revealed it to me."

Raven is another who must never have possession of it. Her motives of showing it to you could only be to make you aware and want to search for it and then try to steal it from you. The book will only appear to the good witches."

"Oh my god....then end of my dream....Thranduil?? Remember I told you I saw Leann? The book had appeared to her."

"Yes...I do. And it is time to end the two of them so that they can never have the chance of locating it. Haldir, Legolas, let us go and gear up. I have had enough of this attire and waste of time." Thranduil was ready to take care of business and you knew you could not stop him, but you sure as hell had to try.

You grabbed his arm as he was turning to leave. "Thranduil no! You cannot go after her! You know she has it out for you. You heard her about midnight which is only a mere 45 minutes away...and all my dreams of your doom, you know they mean something! You cannot just take off and leave me here! I am going with you!"

"You will not! You are safe under your father's wing, and you also have your grandmother. Have you forgotten who I am? I do not hide from any enemy nor do I sit idly by and allow a fire to burn....I extinguish it." he snarled through his teeth. He marched off and you panicked. Chasing after him, you spun him around and kissed him deeply and intensely. His arms wrapped around you tightly and lifted you off the ground as he passionately kissed you back. As your mouths disengaged, the back of his hand glided down your cheek. You cried as you held his face in your hands and stood nose to nose with him. "I cannot lose you. Come back to me. Promise me you will."

"My sweet girl. I will never leave you. More than nin own cuil. Im mel cin nin rís. An all -o uir. Mín mel na- i onlui naur i tur- never n- extinguished." (More than my own life. I love you my Queen. For all of eternity. Our love is the only fire that can never be extinguished.) He kissed your tears and then your lips once more. His eyes filled with his own tears as he resumed his departure, leaving you standing there to watch him, Haldir and Legolas disappear. Julian came to your side and you broke down in his arms.

"Daddy, I cannot just sit here and do nothing!" you cried, gasped and sniffled. "I love him so much....we have to help. I do not care what he has ordered me to do. He knows damn well I will not abide by his wishes as I never have when it comes to his safety. ALL of you...we need to do something....now! I am going to find my mother....are you all just going to let her get away?"

Maharet, Armand, Pandora and Marius all vowed they will not.

Julian looked down at you. "I will not...."

Aragorn stepped forward. "I will not."

"I will not." Narcisse followed suit.

The last was Lestat who stood quietly while all of you stared at him. He lightly grinned at you and stepped forward. "I....will not."

You grinned back at him. "It is settled then. It is time for a witch hunt......and one more dealer."

Lestat's clan kept up their dancing regardless of the brief interruption. On your way out of the ballroom, you had to do a double take. There was Jareth. He removed his devil like mask and fixated his stare on you.

You froze, caught between his blue and brown eyed gaze. As the vampires danced, one moved in front of him and then he was just gone.

You gasped as Julian took your arm. "My Jo...what is it?"

"I...I...nothing...I think...I thought I saw...." You glanced around the crowd and saw nothing more of him.

"You saw him again didn't you? Jareth. I feel him...Nothing good ever comes of his presence." Julian scoured the room with wide open eyes. "Go....keep moving."

When Selene and Garrett had went after Caroline, they split up. Garrett entered the dungeons as it wasn't a far fetched idea that Caroline would hide out in an unforeseen obscure place. He went in through an old unused area and proceeded through the cob web filled dark halls. The perfect hideout for bottom dwellers such as Caroline and her fire crazed Clover.

Garrett was extremely intuitive like you. Very well perceived and usually spot on. Probably another reason Craven chose him to join his clan. King Garrett Lee aka Roman Lee Bryson, his given name, had instincts like a lion that kept him focused on what needed to be done to survive and the heart of a lamb that countered that beast within him. When you first met him, his mortal side still lingered in him as you would get glimpses here and there of his very soul but it was always overridden by what he had become and he would turn on you like the flip of a switch. The human that existed inside of him though was kept alive all because of you. After everything he had done to you, you still saw an opening of humanity, a side of him no one ever saw and you gave a shit enough to break through his brick walls in which you found a simple man...beat down, battered and bruised.... and because of that, you came to care for him.....and because of that, he came to trust you with his deepest darkest secrets. What he was embarking on at this very moment was all for you, so you could be happy. He loved you...truly, madly, deeply.....but he would never tell you for he knew you would never love him. This was now a do or die mission in his eyes......

Selene had went straight to the armory and began packing heat.

Selene had came to Chateau de Lioncourt to take Caroline out and that was what she still intended to do. She had taken Craven and her father from her. Although Selene had fell in love with Michael at a latter point, she, unlike Lestat, didn't harbor but handled past misdeeds against her. She sometimes wasn't sure as to why she cared to take vengeance for her father though as he would have killed her eventually. Not for solely loving Michael, but for the one thing she did harbor....a daughter with him they share that she has kept hidden. Eve Corvin. Did that make her a hypocrite for wanting to kill Caroline for her half breed child that Viktor saw as an abomination? Not in her eyes in didn't. Her daughter was nothing like Raven. But to Viktor, it did not matter. He had already killed his other daughter, Sonja, Selene's twin sister, for the same thing while she was pregnant with a lycan's child.

As Selene was heading back into the castle, she ran into you and Julian. Lestat, Marius, Armand, Pandora and Maharet went their own way as did Narcisse with Aragorn while the Lothlorien and Dorwinion guard secured the outside grounds. Thranduil, Haldir and Legolas' whereabouts were unknown.

"Selene! Where's Garrett?"

"He went his own way as he knows Caroline and Raven very well. But I have a feeling where he was headed. We mustn't stay here in the open. Richard still lurks. We must go now! He is near, I smell him!"

You and Julian ran off with Selene as you captured a whiff of the smell. It was of rotten eggs....

The fact that Garrett knew your mother and sister as well as he did was a plus in locating them, but it didn't make you feel good about him finding them all by himself. As you all descended down the cellar passage, Julian grabbed you. "Stop!....I smell Caroline."

You smelled the musty air and panicked. "And I smell Garrett!"

Selene took off and you bolted after her with Julian close on your heels. Selene burst into a room and there was the most disturbing sight. You couldn't see the man's face lying there on the table at her mercy but you recognized the clothing and the maple scent in the air.

"30 years old. the perfect age." Caroline said as she reveled over a glass full of blood....Garrett's blood.

"Garrett!! NO!!" you screamed and ran to him as Caroline went straight for Selene.

"Would you like a taste? I have always wanted a piece of that magnificent eye candy. I just knew he would be as sweet as his succulent aroma, but he was never interested. But guess what? I was right. Sweet to the last drop."

"Garrett!! Wake up! Talk to me!" you frantically yelled and shook him. He had 2 huge holes in his neck with blood oozing out. You whipped around to Caroline. "You bitch! You killed him! And for that I will kill you!" you cried as Julian held onto you.

Caroline cackled. "Oh no my dear girl. You can't kill what's already dead. Besides, he is only weakened. You know I cannot take in his last drop or it would kill me. Garrett just couldn't stay out of my way so I had to handle him. It was quite easy really. I just appeared to him as you and reeled him right in. He fell for it too... hook, line and sinker. You should have seen the poor love sick puppy. Probably why it was so easy to outsmart his keen senses and sharp intelligence. Would you like a taste? Oh that's right, you have already had him so you know how delicious he is."

Selene tried to distract her from you so you could help Garrett. "Oh come now Caroline, I am right here. You have wanted to kill me for many years. So, come and get me!" Selene ran to the door hoping Caroline would chase after her and leave you alone but she didn't. There she was on the other side of the door.

"Oh Selene, let me just end your heart right here yes?"

"I believe it will be I to end yours when I shove a knife through your it." Selene went to grab it and Caroline belted her right out the window.

Then the wicked witch turned back to you. "Julian...my dear...would you be so kind as to die now so I can have a moment alone with my daughter?" Caroline slowly advanced towards you both with ice blue glowing eyes.

You suddenly felt Garrett's hand on yours. "S...silver...bane...." he weakly whispered.

You hadn't a clue what he meant but Julian did. "Josephine..." he whispered into your ear with his hands on your shoulders from behind you. "Think it and it will happen."

You glanced down into Garrett's barely open eyes and he formed a trembling smile. Rage consumed you as you spun back to her. Your eyes glowed of the moon as you stretched your arm out. "How about a little silverbane bitch!" Suddenly a small blue dust appeared in your palm and you instinctively blew it at her.

The dust turned silver as it hit the air.

A gut wrenching scream burst out of Caroline as it hit her in the face.

She went straight for the window that she knocked Selene out of and took off into the air.

You began gasping. "Daddy, wh...what did I just do?"

"Silverbane my love, it is an evil repellent. Witches hate it. But it has many many more powers. It will only deter her temporarily which gives us time to tend to your friend."

You grabbed Garrett's face tenderly. "Thank you....Now let me help you. Look what I have!" You pulled out the emerald of Eden and dangled it before him.

"Josephine...." Garret began coughing. "It only works on the dying or dead and even then, it cannot restore the blood she has taken. I will die. You have to let me go...."

Your eyes swelled fiercely with tears. "NO! I will not let you go! Daddy, do something!! You have such great power....help him....please!!"

Julian could see it in your tear glazed eyes how much he meant to you. "My Jo...I do have many powers, but....so do you now. Embrace them." he smiled.

You then remembered how you had healed Selene although that was different. She had been poisoned with dead man's blood. Your power sucked it right out of her....and then it hit you. Suck...Garrett needed blood. Your magical blood. But how were you going to do that without him biting you, which would turn you because of the venom in his teeth? The light bulb finally turned on in your mind. You yanked your knife out and held it over your wrist as your hand shook profusely.

"Josephine...no...." Garrett murmured.

You ignored him and pursed your eyes shut, then screamed out in pain as you slit your own wrist. "Here! Drink it!" You shoved your wrist over his mouth and he gently began to consume your blood. His eyes peered up into yours with shame and tears rolled out of them as he did so. Garrett remembered the taste of your blood when he had sliced your finger in the Lorien realm. The taste that drew him right back to you because, like Lestat, it was blood of a human he didn't crave and it had drove them both crazy not knowing why.

You began to feel lightheaded and Julian pulled your wrist away. "He has had enough." Then with his own power, he healed your wound by wrapping his hand around your wrist. Just like that, the cut was gone and you felt revived again.

Garrett's slate grey color dissolved and his skin tone returned to a peachy porcelain as the wound on his neck slowly dissipated right before your eyes. He then sat up so fast, it made you jump. His smile traveled from ear to ear as his blackened eyes returned to a gleaming blue. "You...you healed me....you...saved me. Thank you...I...I have no words."

"Then just shut up." you snarked and hugged him so tight. Garrett released a hearty chuckle as he squeezed you back.

"Julian...I must thank you as well."

Julian formed a scowl. "Do not thank me, for I know all of what you have done to my daughter. It is only her forgiveness of you that I did not let you die or even kill you myself. Remember who you are. Vampires have no place in her life. Thranduil, her husband, can attest to that and I as a warlock can do so as well. With that said, it is time we all focus on the big picture. Caroline. Let us go now and finish her." Julian then turned and began heading to the door.

"Athair!" you snapped.

Julian froze and turned back to you. He hadn't heard you call him that since you were a small child.

"I will not take up time to go into explanations, but I can assure you...Garrett is not a monster. Do you think I could forgive him if he was? I do not expect you...or Thranduil to ever understand. But I ask of you to trust me and please.....never harm him. There is a human still inside him...just as Selene...just as Lestat...not all vampires are wicked like my mo...Caroline and Raven."

Julian's eyes softened at you. "The empath in you is remarkable. It certainly was not passed down from your mother. I am of peace, love and light. I will respect your feelings even if I do not understand them. But do not misunderstand...I too have a dark side that you nor anyone else wants to witness." He gave Garrett a sinister look and proceeded out the door.

You were taken aback by his assertiveness. "Garrett...do not worry. He just does not know you like I...."

"Josephine...your father has every right and reason to feel as he does. So does Thranduil. I know what I have done to you. I live with it every single day. No more of this...we must go and take care of business." Garrett swooped off the table and swiftly walked out the door, shutting down on you again. You huffed and then followed him.

Once Caroline had flown out, she easily found Selene and dropped down in front of her. "I have a small surprise for you darling." She then flew up to the roof of the castle's backside that had been unoccupied for sometime. Selene knew this was a trick but it didn't matter. She went after her anyways, determined to put an end to her wretched existence.

Selene then followed Caroline off into the forest. Caroline was leading her on a wild goose chase as it was all a game to her. She liked to play with her prey before killing them, just like a cat does. Selene slowly scoped out the area but as she turned, Caroline appeared and plowed her head first against a large rock. The redhead may have been a newborn in the vampiric sense, but she had been a witch for many years prior and combining the two made her insanely powerful, even more so than a fully blooded vampire. Selene knew this but overlooked it, for she would not submit to any witch.

You, Julian and Garrett had just came upon them and Garrett ran to help Selene.

But Caroline swooped Selene up into the trees and then took off with her.

Caroline had a surprise in store as she said and was leading you all to it. Into a murky wet end of the dungeons Caroline dropped Selene. Caroline taunted her for a bit, then popped up and knocked her on her ass again before leaving her to something much more deadly...

When Selene jumped up, Caroline was gone. But a very distinguished smell consumed the air. Selene began walking about cautiously and soon knew she was being watched...or stalked for a better term. As she turned a corner, her eyes could not believe the image she took in...footprints.....none other than that of a Lycan.....

@redeemer46

Masterlist

[rowinablx]

It Is Not Lost

Summary: What if Legolas and Arwen’s roles were switched?

Notes: BAMF Arwen. Legolas is a unwilling damsel in distress. Haldir is Legolas’ biological uncle.

Warnings: Descriptions of death, whump. Fuck immortality tbh

Tagging: @wrasslin-kpop-and-bullshit @axelwolf8109 @nvd94 @swifteforeverandalways @epickiya722 @ylove-bandaesthetics @adamansdiamond

Aragorn cursed as he cut into the athelas, if Frodo died on his watch he’d never forgive himself. “What’s this?” The familiar musical voice rang out. “A ranger caught off his guard?”

“Legolas” Aragorn finally got the plant, turning and greeting his beloved. “We do not have time for pleasantries, we need to go to Frodo” He grabbed Legolas’ hand and ran.

“Frodo” Legolas said so softly even Aragorn struggled to hear. “I’m Legolas Thranduilion. It is alright. You will be safe” In Frodo’s delirium he saw a beautiful elf clad in white and glowing.

“He’s fading” The prince said in despair, Aragorn quickly chewing the athelas and pressing it on the wound.

“He needs to go to your father. I’ve been searching for you for three days” Legolas whispered in elvish, picking up Frodo. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting” The ranger responded cheekily.

“What’re they saying?!” Sam shouted. “He’s an elf” Pippin gasped

Legolas slapped Aragorn’s hand on his horse. “We both know I’m the faster rider. I do not fear them. The trees will protect me”

“The last elf born before the darkness”

Legolas nodded. “I do not fear them” “It is not them I fear” Aragorn said. “Ride fast Legolas, don’t look back”

He nodded and urged his horse forward. “What’re you doing?! Those wraiths are still out there!” Sam’s anger stilled as he saw Aragorn’s expression of pure panic

——-

Legolas screamed in pain as an arrow cut into his cheek.

Even with nine wraiths chasing after him, he outran them, ignoring the blood dripping down his face, eventually coming to the river just outside of Rivendell.

“Give up the halfling princeling!”

Legolas took out a dagger and pointed it. “If you want him, come and claim him” His blue eyes daring them to try.

The ringwraiths drew their swords and Legolas chanted under his breath. “Trees of Rivendell. I call to you for aid. Protect the Hobbit and I from the Ringwraiths of Sauron”

The trees of Middle Earth need only look at Legolas’ wound to act.

They attacked the wraiths as he rode to Rivendell. Frodo’s breathing thinned as he finally reached it. “Elrond!”

The half elf immediately turned around. “Prince Legolas?”

“Save him. Please” He handed the hobbit over, Elrond barking orders and taking Frodo away.

Legolas let a single tear fall as he thought of losing Aragorn and failing Frodo.

———

“Aragorn!” Legolas shouted and threw himself into his loves arms. Aragorn caught him and held the elf just as tightly, ignoring the looks from the Mirkwood elves.

“Meleth” Aragorn kissed his head then noticing the healed cut. “Who did this to you?” He said lowly. “I am fine”

Elrond discretely gestured to his adopted son. “I will hold you in my arms tonight” Aragorn said firmly before leaving.

“Frodo? He is alive?” “He is. But that is not the issue I sadly must press” Aragorn's face contorted in confusion.

“Thranduil has made it clear that Legolas will sail with our race to the Undying Lands. The time of the elves is fading. He will not part from his son”

Aragorn’s heart shattered. “Legolas is my betrothed” “He is not like I, the twins or Arwen. He cannot pass after your death. He cannot choose mortality. He would become a living statue. Unmoving from your grave” Elrond thought of the vision Thranduil had, Aragorn’s white decaying body, Legolas clad in black, only tears and his hair moving...

“Thranduil is a selfish bastard” Aragorn said firmly before storming away

[sips---tea]

Thraundil x reader // Home again

Thranduil's beloved partner had been missing since a battle at Angmar, pulling Thranduil into great grief. What happens when it is discovered you are not dead and return to your husband.

1617 words

You had been in this dark place for longer than you could record. You remember the battle at Angmar, fighting beside your husband the neverending barrage of orcs and then being distanced from him by seeing your son Legolas in danger. You thought it was won and for a second put your guard down which allowed your leg to be caught by an orc sword and for you to fall and soon lose consciousness. The last thing you saw was your husband, fighting orcs, he had not noticed, too busy fighting to save himself and Legolas from the newest wave of orcs.

You woke in this dark pit, you tried to fight the orcs who would visit you and torture you for their sick, twisted fun. You gained very little food, the orcs only keeping you alive for their humour. Soon however even the orcs stopped coming, leaving you in the dark pit to rot. You were thankful that you had little food and water which you tried to ration to the best of your ability. The thought of home kept you going, of Thranduil, your son and of the beauty of Greenwood, one day you would return.

Once again you tried the door in case somehow it was unlocked. You slump back down, it is still bolted shut. There was little you could do in this place, only think of home, scratch the walls, check your food supply. This was no life for an eleven noble, an eleven (king/Queen), one who had seen the fall of Melkor and fought in many, many wars, this capture was humiliating. You closed your eyes and sighed, you regretted everything and just wished to return, praying to the Valar to save you from the torture you were facing. They seemed to have never answered, you were still here, on a dirty floor in an unknown place.

You heard something. You closed your eyes and sighed, a bird probably, false hope. You shivered and heard the noise again. It sounded like voices? This might be your brain, going mad from isolation, however, your heart skipped a beat and you stood, bashing the door. Muffled voices, you could hardly believe your eyes, as you saw light at the cracks of the door. You stumbled back, terrified that it might be a foe and with nothing to protect yourself with, the only thing you could do was hope and pray the Valar brought you saviours. The door swung open and Gandalf stood in the entrance, his staff held high, illuminating the dark pit you had spent your days in for the first time. Your heart rose and you stood, blinded by the light of the staff. Gandalf's eyes were wide in shock.

"My dear (y/n)" he said. "I thought you were lost"

"I did also" you said, your voice hoarse. You blinked and almost collapsed, Gandalf quickly supporting you. "Where am I?" you asked.

"Amon Lac" Gandalf said, slowly leading you out.

"I do not understand" you said quietly.

"And nor do I" he said quietly. Gandalf led you across a bridge and toward Radagast who stared, confused at the dirty, pale, zombie looking elf Gandalf was supporting.

"Who is this?" Radagast asked in confusion.

"I am returning to the fortress" Gandalf said. "But I must ask that you take (y/n) to the woodland kingdom"

"(y/n) of the woodland realm?" Radagast asked, confused, but realisation dawned on his face. "Oh yes, of course" Radegast busied himself to make sure there's space as you sat heavily on it, exhausted but finally free.

"Will you be okay? Will they be?" Radagast asked.

"If you return them to the woodland realm then they will" Gandalf said, turning to go back into the fortress.

"But what about you?" Radagast called. "What if it is a trap?"

"It is undoubtedly a trap" Gandalf replied, walking back toward Dol Guldur, even more questions now clouding his mind.

Radagast stared for a few moments before looking down at the elf who laid on his sled. In a few moments of muttering, Radagast had started the sled, he was very paranoid you would fall off and was also unsure of what it would be like for you to return. He had seen Thranduil's decline of happiness and his grief from his place in the forest, would you help his grief or would he not believe you were alive.

"Radagast?" you calling his name jumped him out of his trance. "Are my husband and son alive? " you asked.

"Yes they are" Radagast Answered. You smiled, closing your eyes and laying back slightly. You were glad that you could finally see them again, that you could finally go home.

Radagast stopped the sled close to the main gates and looked down at you, worried. "Can you walk the way?" he asked, wishing to as soon as possible send the message to Lothlorien and Rivendell.

You nodded slightly, shakily getting up and smiling, feeling the grass under your feet. "Thank you Radagast," you said. He nodded and left, leaving you alone in the forest you knew so well. Slowly you started to walk toward the doors of the halls of Thranduil, it was a walk you had taken many times alone and with Thranduil beside you. Nothing had seemed to have changed, the grass bouncy and the trees blowing gently in the wind. You breathed heavily, thanking that no longer you breathed in the musty and stale air of Amon Lac.

Slowly you crossed the bridge and were faced by guards on both sides who quickly arrested you for trespassing on the King's land. You didn't fight or struggle, too tired to do so, letting the guards guide you into the halls. It was as you remembered it, nothing had changed apart from new statues, was that you? You didn't have much time to linger, looking at your face, moulded in stone as the guard made sure to keep a fast pace. You recognised the route, you were going to Thranduil.

The guards stopped and dropped you. At this point, you were completely exhausted, without the energy to even try to get up. "Stand" the sound of Thranduil's voice was like music to your ears, his voice was firm and without emotion. You slowly stood, shaking slightly as you slowly looked up at your husband who sat on his throne. He hadn't changed, apart from his eyes. As soon as they met yours they widened in shock.

"Impossible" he whispered, he almost tripped as he rushed down the stairs and pulled you into a hug. "It cannot be you" he whispered as you leaned into him, allowing Thranduil to completely smother you in his chest. You could tell Thranduil was struggling, almost unable to keep the tears back. Quickly he dismissed the guards and guided you down to the floor, still holding you in his arms. He cupped your cheek and stared into your eyes. "Where have you been (y/n)?" he asked in disbelief.

"Gandalf found me" you said quietly. "In Dol Guldur"

Thraundil's face was full of mixed emotions, from disbelief, sadness and confusion. He could not understand, Thraundil had searched for you, day and night through the dead bodies of orcs and elves to find you, to hold your body one last time. He had a funeral for you, he had grieved, he had closed his heart to any further help toward the men of the wood against orcs.

"You have been gone for 150 years" Thraundil said. Your heart stopped at these words.

"No. I" you couldn't believe it. You rested your head against his chest and fainted into it, completely exhausted. Thraundil held you close, not wishing to let you go. He had missed you terribly, losing the fire which kept his heart warm so it froze over and he vowed never again to fight for the needs of men. If he didn't then you would have never gone and would have been with him.

Slowly Thranduil got up and picked you up into his arms. He grimaced at how dirty and matted your hair was. He carried you to the healers who washed you and checked your wounds. Thraundil watching over, cringing at the marks which now littered your body. He found it hard to keep his anger in check, he wanted to hunt down and kill every orc he could get his hands on. He wished he had kept you safe, denied you from fighting in Angmar, he criticised his past self for this as he watched you now, laying on his bed, tucked up in the warm sheets and furs. For the first thirty years, Thraundil did not sleep in his royal chambers, the memories of you and him together being too much to bair, being unable to sleep without you in his arms. Thirty years it took for him to have the courage to enter and sleep in your and his room again, the large bed feeling strangely empty without another presence.

Slowly he sat on the bed, feeling your hair between his fingers. Your hair was now smooth and clean, just as he remembered. He got into bed next to you, listening to your gentle breathing. Valar how he missed this, he missed you. He wrapped his long arms around you immediately moulding into your side. You smelt perfect, just as he remembered, he kissed your cheek and rested his nose against it, glad you were home with him. Thranduil smiled slightly, he should plan a large feast to celebrate you being home, his lover finally back with him. Thranduil closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep, finally happy again.

[amxranthiine]

kalon

(n.) the kind of beauty that is more than skin deep.

request:  Can I ask for platonic Thranduil with sister in law reader, reader is Legola's aunt and she saved Legolas' mother from dying but ended up paralyzed from waist down, needing to be on a wheelchair (let's pretend they have wheelchairs), and Thranduil is very grateful and helps reader a lot with things?

pronouns: she/her

a/n: like six months late but ITS FINE

warnings: ANGST n fluff. mentions of death and orc attacks. nightmares.

---

“Nana? Nana! Wake up, nana, please! You have to wake up!” A little Legolas screams as he watches his mother and aunt’s bodies be carried in by his father’s guard. His mother was pale and lifeless - cold hands and dark eyes, staring back into his own blue orbs as he shook her body. Though, he felt no love from her stare. Nothing about her was the same, her soul had already been lifted from her fragile body.

Next to her lay his aunt, Y/n, his mother’s sister. She was alive but unresponsive, blood was leaving her body faster and faster each second, pooling beneath her like a crimson ball gown. From behind Legolas, his father, Thranduil, was quickly approaching the scene. Loud orders from him to his guards could likely be heard throughout the palace. One would be a fool to miss the fear, desperation and anger laced in his voice.

Y/n stirred from the commotion, her eyes burning and her body flaring in pain as she tried to become responsive once again. She could feel every centimeter of her wound, the sword that stabbed her was likely poisoned - and it embedded it’s way into her spinal cord. She could feel her life force being drained, the light becoming far too close for her liking. Even if she lived, she knew nothing would be the same - with her body and with her family. She had been too late to save her dearest sister, and that thought alone was almost enough to make her give up. However, her little sister left her a nephew and a brother, both of which would need guidance recovering from her sister’s death.

“My King Thranduil -” Started the Captain, though he was soon hushed by the horrified Elf. Thranduil was terribly shaken up, his hair was messy and his robes wrinkled, likely from the speed at which he was running.

Thranduil looked at his beloved Wife and sister in law, and he felt his blood run cold. There was - there was so much blood. His wife was nearly blue and unconscious, was she... No, he wasn’t think like that. He looked over to Y/n, where she was struggling to open her eyes, and groaning from the giant hole in her back. He could feel the tears in his eyes, and he knew deep down that his son no longer had a mother.

Y/n heard her brother in law approaching, and even though she was on the verge of death, she felt as though she had to be the one to break the news. “Thranduil?” She croaked, her throat dry and her lips cracked.

The King rushed to her, grabbing a waterskin in the process and lifting it to her lips. She coughed as she drank down as much as she could. “Y/n...”

She ignored the burning in her eyes and looked up at him, and suddenly, she wanted to cry. She didn’t have that much time left, and she had so much to say. Y/n attempted to take a deep breath, then said her last words.

“I’m so sorry, Thranduil. I - I couldn’t save her - I tried so, so - hard. Please, tell Lego - Legolas we loved him.” She used the last of her energy to say those words, and soon, her eyes slipped shut.

“No! Y/n! You can’t leave me! You can’t leave us! Legolas will need guidance. I will need guidance! Legolas just lost his mother, he can’t lose you too!”

The weight of losing both the love of his life and his sister crashed down on him, and he fell to the ground with a heartbroken scream. A tiny body forced itself into his lap as his son wept along with him, not knowing if he’d ever see his mother or aunt again. Thranduil’s arms wrapped themselves around Legolas as he rocked back and forth on the floor, weeping and crying out to the Valar, cursing them and asking to spare them.

Thranduil gasped for breath as he jumped awake, beads of sweat rolled down his face as he regained consciousness, the nightmare - no - memory he had tried so hard to forget was now engraved into his head once again. He felt the urge to go check on his, now paralyzed, sister in law. Her wounds from that awful day were fatal, but somehow she pushed through the worst of it.

Though, not without consequence. Apparently the blade had all but destroyed her spinal cord, and because of it she was paralyzed from the waist down. The healers told him that it was a miracle she was still alive.

He got out of bed and put on a velvet robe, ignoring the chill in his bones from the cold air. He quietly tiptoed to her room, trying to ignore the feeling of dread, likely the product of his nightmarish memory.

Soon enough, as it was right down the hall, he arrived at his sister's chambers and, as quietly as he could, opened the door. His heart dropped when he saw that she wasn't there, and her wheelchair was nowhere to be found.

Thranduil panicked, his mind buzzing for any clue as to where she could be. The kitchens? No, she has trouble reaching the cabinets, and the accident made it even harder for her to see. Legolas' chambers? Hard no. She could be quite clumsy and can't be quiet to save her life. Literally.

He was starting to panic. What if she was kidnapped? His dearest sister in law, kidnapped by the very creatures who paralyzed her in the first place? It seemed realistic. At least, it did to Thranduil - who was losing his mind from worry. Though the only way they could get into the palace was through the-

Of course! The Royal Gardens!

In his state of worry, Thranduil had conpletely forgotten that Y/n liked to go to the gardens when she was having a hard time, because it was one of the only places that reminded her of her sister, the place where they had the most memories.

He took off towards the Gardens, not really caring about it being in the middle of the night as Elves were light on their feet anyway. In moments he was standing before her, nodding at the guards who took place at the Garden entrance.

Y/n was laying on the grass, her wheelchair was forgotten next to her, and she was playing with an orchid she had plucked, twirling it between her fingers carefully. Thranduil's heart throbbed as he realized that orchids were his wife's favorite flower, and that Y/n was missing her as much as he did. If not more, the sisterly bond between them was something he had never seen before.

He cleared his throat, alerting the woman if his presence. Her head turned slightly to the left as a way to acknowledge him.

"You scared me, Y/n. I couldn't find you, so I assumed the worst." He muttered quietly and sat down next to her.

She chuckled, "You've known me for how long and you still don't know that I tend to... gravitate here?"

The King sighed, he had always known that she used jokes as a coping mechanism, a way to escape her reality. "Yes, yes, I know. I just... I was worried," He frowned, taking the delicate flower from between her fingers. She paused, and he could practically see the gears grinding in her head out of his peripheral vision.

"You're having nightmares again, aren't you?" She asked, and he could feel her eyes burn into his head.

"They aren't just nightmares, Y/n," He twirled the flower absentmindedly, "they're memories."

This time, it was her who sighed, "Of that day?" She questioned, already knowing the answer, but his nod only confirmed it.

"I miss her," Y/n said, looking up at the night sky. Thranduil went to say something, but she held one finger up. "Let me finish. Sometimes I wish it were me who died, instead of her. She had you and Legolas to come home to, and I didn't really have anyone. Yes, I had family here, you and my nephew for example, but my sister was your wife and his mother, and the queen for crying out loud. Why am I saying this? I honestly have no clue. I suppose my point is... After the accident, I was overwhelmed in guilt and sadness. I didn't really focus on the fact that I was alive because of you. You and Legolas have taken care of me since day one and I can't remember if I've thanked you for that. So... Thank you. For helping heal my mind, and my body, even if their isn't much left of it. I am eternally grateful for you, brother."

Thranduil stared at her, and Y/n sniffled. At some point along the way she had started crying, and he felt like he was going to as well. He pulled his sister into his arms and held her tight as she cried, holding onto one of the last pieces of family he had left with an iron grip.

"You do not have to thank me, sister. You are family and you will be treated as such, even during hardships such as that one. If anything, I should thank you for being there for both Legolas and I while we were grieving, even if you weren't in the best state yourself."

Y/n giggled, much to Thranduil's delight. The sound had pulled a small smile onto his face and they both relished in the quiet for a moment.

Finally, Y/n pulled away, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "Alright, my King, help me up."

Thranduil laughed, a very merry sound, and helped her into her wheelchair. "As you wish, my Lady."

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Imagine helping Legolas deal with a sprained ankle

It was all your fault, so Legolas would say.

“If you hadn’t had been so reckless, I wouldn’t have had to jump down from the boulder to assist you with the orc,” he’d complain regularly, from his position forcibly laying down in his sleeping pack with an elevated foot.

Whenever he’d try to rise again to bicker louder with you, a tending Aragorn would push him down again with a hand to his chest.

It was funny the first few days, you couldn’t lie, but now? Well, now it was just sad.

Legolas prided himself on his athletic ability, that much was obvious to you and the rest of the Fellowship early into your journey.

He’d regularly prance ahead like a young foal, or walk across snow with a smug smirk on his face. He was the strongest member there, and never let anyone forget it. This is also why he took injury the worst out of everyone.

It wasn’t, in all actuality, technically your fault. You needed help with an orc, yes, but Legolas timing his jump wrong and spraining his ankle had nothing to do with you.

Alas, he was gaining cabin fever from his immobilised state, therefore anger was bubbling in his chest—directed at you. You didn’t take it personally, but it was starting to wear down on you.

The walks through the days were slower, as Legolas would limp along with a homemade walking stick, fashioned out of a long branch.

Whenever he’d notice you or someone else looking at him over his shoulder, as he bared his teeth in wincing hurt, he’d quickly glare and push on harder.

You’d softly shake your head, but look away regardless.

It was unnatural to see an elf in such a state, like roses freezing over. Even more so, it was unnatural to see Legolas so grumpy. He was quite light-hearted at the beginning of the journey—you remember making a mental note that he’d probably be one of the best to hang around with due to so.

Alas, his sprained ankle and no doubt self-inflicted embarrassment brought the deeply rooted competitiveness out within him.

You were all sat around a fire tonight (save for Boromir and Gimli, who were off scouting the area), like many other evenings—laughing and pulling rabbit meat off of a skewer.

Legolas was a few yards away, pouting in his sleeping bag. You had brought his food to him a few minutes earlier, but he turned you away and claimed he wasn’t hungry.

“You’ll need sustenance to heal, little elf,” you laughed, trying to humour him.

All you received was a gruff grunt, and, “Don’t tell me how elves heal—I’m quite aware of my own race, thank you very much.”

You heard Pippin hissing through a wince, and bared your own teeth in cringe as you turned on your heel and headed back towards the campfire.

“Pay him no mind,” Aragorn said, leaning across to you. “Elves, especially the Mirkwood strain, are very prideful folk. He’ll come to his senses once his foot heals.”

“I can’t imagine it’ll heal anytime soon if he keeps pushing himself every day like he’s doing,” you pointed out.

Aragorn sighed. “That is entirely Thranduil’s blood coming out in him.”

“Remind me to never step foot in Mirkwood then,” you grinned.

Aragorn gave a toothy smile back, and bonked his skewer with yours in a “cheers to that” motion.

You could feel Legolas’ eyes burning into the back of your head, but paid it no mind. You didn’t dare glance over your shoulder, lest Mordor freeze over.

The rest of the camp continued on in low chatter, that is until Boromir and Gimli came rushing back—completely out of breath.

“What is it?” Aragorn asked right away.

“Orc scouts,” Boromir answered, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Thirty, give or take, approaching from the west.”

The camp looked around at each other quickly in fright, before Aragorn jumped into action. Rising to his feet, he grabbed his sword and dictated everyone else to do the same.

“We’ll meet them half way and use the element of surprise,” he said.

Legolas began rising to his own feet, though, a great deal of strained effort was noticeable on his end.

“I’m coming, I just need to get my bow,” Legolas announced, barely able to move the foot resting on a sleeping pack.

“No, not you, mellon nîn,” said Aragorn, upholding a hand and motioning for Legolas to lay down again. “Please, stay behind. Though your valiance is admirable, you will only get in the way of this fight. Rest, and fight when your ankle heals.”

Legolas’ face contorted in hurt, and you imagined this was the first time the athletic prince had ever been sidelined.

You all stood around in misplaced guilt, fiddling with your swords and avoiding eye contact with Legolas.

Finally, the elf’s jaw set, and he forcibly fell back down into sheets—turning over and pulling the covers up over his shoulder.

“We can’t leave him vulnerable,” Sam pointed out, whispering quietly as to not anger Legolas further. However, you could see his pointed ears twitching back, and knew he heard every gut-punching word.

Aragorn nodded, and turned his eyes to you. The hobbits had to stay under the protection of Aragorn, and leaving Frodo and the Ring out of sight and alone behind in the camp simply wasn’t an option.

Aragorn gestured between you and Legolas discreetly. Understanding his words, you dropped your shoulders and sighed.

“I’ll stay back and tend to the camp,” you announced.

The rest of the Fellowship gave you an apologetic look, before running off into the forest towards the orcs.

You were soon left with the silence of the camp, save for the angered breathing of Legolas and the crackling of the dimming fire.

Stood there unsure of what to do in the awkward space, you continued fiddling with the pommel of your sword, and looked at Legolas.

His back was rising and falling quickly—clearly infuriated with the whole situation. You felt bad for him, you really did, but you were still unsure of how to approach him.

Looking down to the fire again, you saw untouched skewers of meat, and arrived at a resolution.

With the food in hand, you walked over to the prince. He could hear you coming, and with every crunch of your boots on the foliage, his eyes twitched.

Sitting down beside his back, you placed a hand on the broad of his shoulder and shook him gently. “The rabbit smells really good, and has that beautiful, slightly charred smoky taste. Seems a waste to not eat it, no?”

“Not hungry,” Legolas grumbled.

“You need to heal your ankle, Legolas,” you said again, this time sterner. “You need to ea—”

“Not. Hungry.”

Thinning your lips, you shook your head down at Legolas in disappointment. “Legolas, I know you’re upset with me regarding your ankle, but holding a grudge isn’t going to—”

He swiftly turned over in his pack, and stared at the dimming fire.

“We need more firewood,” he said, glaring at the dying flames.

You followed his line of sight, and noticed he was indeed right. However, you recalled the orcs and what Aragorn expected of you.

“We’ll just have to wait for the others. I can’t leave the camp to fetch more, and I definitely can’t leave you vulnerable to—”

“Ugh! I’ll do it myself!” Legolas exclaimed. He rose swiftly and tried limping out into the woods with clenched fists and squared shoulders.

“Legolas!” you called, quickly grabbing your sword and cursing under your breath. “Wait! You shouldn’t be on that ankle!”

But he was already marching on.

Heading a few strides out into the forest, Legolas went farther and farther to find the best firewood. You ran behind him, surprised he could go so far for someone who was injured.

“Wait!” you yelled again, finally jumping out in front of him. “Go back to sleep, Legolas. Now.”

He merely glared at you, and stepped around your form—pushing on.

Groaning in frustration, you turned around and pulled on his shoulder. “I’m serious, Legolas! There are orcs out here at the moment, and I need to stay by the camp!”

“Then you can go back,” Legolas growled, forcibly shoving your hand off of his shoulder. “I don’t need to be babysat by you.”

“No,” you agreed, “but you do need my help with your ankle!”

Grabbing the bottom of his cloak, you started pulling him back towards the camp.

“Let go!” he shouted, digging his one good heel into the ground and pulling his cape back—initiating a tug of war between you both.

“No!” you denied, pulling the cloak again. “You’re coming back with me, and that’s final!”

“NO!” Pull. “I’m helping by getting firewood!”

Yank. “You’re not helping at all! You’re putting me in a tough situation instead!”

“It’s not your problem!” Tug.

“Yes, it is!” you exclaimed, pulling the cloak one more time. “It is my problem, because you’ve become a HUGE problem for the entire Fellowship!”

Upon pulling one last time, Legolas lost his footing and tripped, causing you both to fall down.

You each groaned in pain as your backs were sprawled across the foliage. Legolas was the first to sit up, but immediately yelped in pain as he did so.

He held his ankle tight, and bared his teeth as to stop himself from crying out.

“It’s worse,” he whispered, avoiding your eyes. “My ankle—I think I hurt it more.”

You stared at Legolas in horror, as he clutched said sore ankle. You sat up next to him, and ran a finger along it.

He jolted immediately, and fought back another cry by biting down on his bottom lip.

“Dammit, Legolas…” you cursed, furrowing your brows and shaking your head. “Why couldn’t you have just listened to me? You need to rest.”

Upon glaring up at him, you were taken aback, for there were unshed tears in the elf’s eyes. He was clearly holding himself back from letting them fall, as he sniffled and studied his ankle.

“Legolas?” you called softly, reaching a hand up and gently directing his chin to face you. “What’s going on with you?”

Letting the first tear fall, and swallowing the lump in his throat, Legolas spoke up in a quiet voice—finally unbottling his emotions.

“I’m supposed to be the athlete,” he said, studying your eyes before looking down again. “I was always the best in training. I’ve pushed myself through rain, mud and more, because I’ve always been the best. And now? Now I can’t even fetch firewood for my friends...”

Sympathy overtook your eyes, as you suddenly understood the elf.

“You still are the best here, Legolas,” you promised, trying to catch his eyes as he averted them. “A sprained ankle means nothing in the grand scheme of it. You are, without a doubt, the strongest one of us here. None of us think differently of you simply because you’re hurt.”

“But I feel so useless!” he exclaimed, letting a few more tears fall. “My friends are out there right now pulling their own weight against the orcs, and I’m stuck here crying on the ground because I can’t even walk.”

“But you will walk again,” you assured him, turning his chin once more. “And when that day comes—which isn’t too far off, mind you—those orcs will wish they hadn’t ever left Mordor.”

You laughed brightly for a moment in afterthought, earning a smile from Legolas.

“What?” he asked gently.

“Do you remember how you took that cave troll down in Moria?” you chuckled again, thinking of the memory. “You scaled atop the darn thing and shot two arrows into its brain!”

“Three…” Legolas sheepishly corrected, now grinning in a shy way.

“Three,” you annulled, grinning back up at him. “Trust me, Legolas. Your friends think nothing less of you than pure amazing talent. Don’t let it eat away at you.”

Legolas nodded to himself for a moment, before another sheepish grin formed on his lips. “Speaking of eating…are there any of those rabbit meat skewers still left back at camp?”

You smiled warmly, and helped him up.

He tentatively accepted your aid, and slowly wrapped an arm over your shoulder, as you helped him limp back to camp.

“C’mon, athlete. Let’s get you some food.”

[xmarchwarden-of-lothlorienx]

Compelling

Thranduil x fem!human!reader

Requested: @the-colonialtemplars

Summary: “I would like the human was part of the company of Bilbo and the Dwarves and that when Thranduil first her he begins to take a strange interest in her”

Authors Note: I am so sorry for taking forever with this 😓 Life was kinda hectic so I didn’t get the chance to write for a hot minute. I hope you enjoy it!

__________________________________________

When you had been asked to join the company of Thorin Oakenshield, you didn’t have getting lost in Mirkwood and captured by the Elvenkings guards in mind. You were a human, and a very talented swords-woman at that. Your skills were known to many, including Gandalf, who had been the one to propose you join the quest to reclaim Erebor. Now, you were being escorted through the halls of the Elvenking.

The kingdom had been carved from wood and stone. It was so different and yet more beautiful than anything you had ever seen. As you were escorted by guards, all you could do was look in awe at the extraordinary view.

The guards stopped you in front of the throne. You brought your eyes to the figure of the Elvenking when the captain addressed him.

“What shall we do with them, My King?” His icy blue eyes slowly passed over the company and lingered on you. You gulped. You had thought the kingdom was beautiful, but now all of your attention was directed towards the king. He looked ethereal seated upon his throne; as if he had been carved from the finest and purest of stone.

“Take them to the dungeons. Leave Oakenshield with me,” he commanded. As he spoke, you made eye contact with each other. You could feel the goosebumps raising across your skin. All you could think of while you were being shoved into your cell were his eyes. The king-Thranduil they called him-had a cold and harsh demeanor, yet looked somewhat...lonely? You couldn’t place it exactly. You shook your head. The last thing you needed was to feel sympathy for the person holding you prisoner.

___

When Thorin returned from his audience with the king, everyone jumped to their feet and began asking what had happened. Before you could hear his response, a guard opened your cell and grabbed your arm.

“Your turn,” was all they said. As you were led back to the throne room, the dwarves shouts of outrage at your being taken away echoed through the long hall.

Standing before the king, you had never felt smaller. It felt as though he could see right through you.

“May I ask why you wanted to see me?” You inquired first. Thranduils expression shifted to one of amusement. A human, in his own court, addressing him without first being acknowledged and without using his title? This should be interesting.

“My audience with Thorin Oakenshield did not go quite as planned.” He began descending from his throne. “I was hoping to have a discussion with someone that would perhaps be more reasonable.” Thranduil was now slowly circling you.

“I am not the leader of this quest. Decisions are not mine to make.” You responded. The king obviously knew of the stubbornness of dwarves. If he thought you could convince Thorin, that would be near impossible.

“All I ask is for you to consider my offer,” Thranduil whispered into your ear. He was behind you now and you hadn’t realized how close he was to you. You felt the hairs rise on the back of your neck. Something about the Elvenking put you completely on edge.

“Alright. I shall consider it,” you replied. “But, I make no promise to fulfill or agree to anything.” Thranduil smirked at your response. Interesting indeed...

“I understand that if you do succeed in reclaiming Erebor each of you will be given a share of the treasure.” He continued walking until he was in front of you. “There is something very precious to me among the gold of the mountain.”

“Oh?”

“Jewels, made of pure starlight. If you should find them, I hope you could return them to me.”

“Return?” You asked. You knew of the bad blood between the elves and dwarves, but Thranduil’s choice of words piqued your curiosity.

“Yes,” he paused. “They belonged to my late wife, and Thorin Oakenshield has refused to give them to me.” Oh. Suddenly, you understood the lonely Elvenking. Your knowledge of elves was limited, but you knew when they fell in love, they fell hard. It was rare for them to ever marry more than once. In fact, it was rumored that they could only fall in love once.

“I see,” You said. You felt sorrow for Thranduil. The dwarves were stubborn, but they could at least give him what belonged to his former queen. “If the opportunity should arrive, I’ll see what I can do.”

Thranduil nodded to his guards signaling that you were done. They took you away, this time more gently than before. Once you were gone, he returned to his throne and thought. You seemed different from most humans he had met. You weren’t troubled with impressing him or seeming like you were something you were not. You ignited something he had not felt in a long time. That couldn’t be though, could it? Only time would tell. After all. He was patient. He could wait.

___

The Battle of the Five Armies was over. You sat upon the broken ramparts, and mulled over recent events. Thorin and his dragon sickness. Sneaking out of the mountain with Bilbo to give the Arkenstone to Thranduil. After everything the company had been through, Thorin, Fili, and Kili were dead. Thorin’s cousin, Dain, would now be King under the Mountain. Your thoughts were interrupted by someone sitting down beside you.

“And what about you? Where will you go now that the quest is over?” Thranduil. The battle weighed heavily on him as well. He had lost many of his people and now his son, Prince Legolas, was leaving.

“I’ll do what I always do,” you replied. “Journey from one town to the next. Find a new job or adventure to partake in.” You turned to the king. “I apologize for not finding your jewels. I know they-they meant a lot to you.”

“No,” he said. “I’ve come to realize that there are far more important things to treasure.”

“Oh? Care to enlighten me?”

“Love,” he said quietly. “Not becoming so caught up in a memory that you neglect those that are still here.” You sat in silence for a few moments.

“I’m sorry about your wife,” you said. “I know she must have meant a great deal to you.”

Thranduil gave a sad smile. “Yes.” He looked into your eyes. Light blue staring into (e/c). “Though I think my time of mourning is over.” He stood up. “Tell me, how would you feel if I offered you a place at Mirkwood?” This was a surprise, and a pleasant one at that. Being offered a place among the elves was an honor.

“I-well-of course I would accept.” You finally managed to say. It wasn’t as though you had anywhere else to go. The dwarves offered you stay at Erebor, but some were still angered over your and Bilbos ‘betrayal’. You would much rather let that tension cool before staying with them.

Thranduil was pleased with your response. He slowly extended a hand to you. “Come then. We shall depart in the next hour or so.” You placed your hand in his and he pulled you up. You stumbled slightly into him. You again made eye contact. There you stood, his hand in yours, too close for what was considered appropriate. Becoming flustered at your proximity to him.

“Forgive me. I must go pack my things,” you said before leaving. Thranduil watched as you hurried away. Interesting indeed...

[entishramblings]

The Silent Ones

[Thranduil + Legolas; father/son relationship]

A.N: So, this is based off of my comments on THIS post! All yall said I needed to write up my idea, so indeed I did!

Request: none-ish?

Pairing: Legolas and Thranduil (father/son relationship)

Summary: After Thranduil is injured by dragon’s fire and stuck in unconsciousness, Legolas is left to rule Greenwood.

Word Count: 1,943

Warnings: angst, fluff

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST | AO3

Legolas slammed his palms against the closed, wooden doors of the Woodland Realm’s Healing Ward. Without waisting a second, he pushed them open and rushed through the archway in panic. He was still in his steel battle armor and loaded with various weapons—bow, arrows, knives, daggers, and sword. Minor scraps and bruises littered his form, along with harsh splashes of blood that was not his own. He looked like a beaten mess, which of course made sense considering he just returned from the battlefield with hundreds of other Greenwood guards.

As soon as he entered, he was met with the sight and sounds of a bustling infirmary. Spread across the room were many injuried elves. Some were grunting or hollering out in pain and others were silent—it was the silent ones that were the real concern. However, that was not the reason Legolas was there.

With frantic eyes, he pushed past various healers and soldiers—searching desperately.

“Where is he?!” Legolas called out. “Where is my father?!”

All of the eyes in the room shifted and whispers sprung from their lips—incessantly, endlessly, ceaselessly.

“Where is he?!” The Prince demanded, his voice raising.

A healer, one that Legolas had known since he was an young ellon, approached him. With a soft and cautious voice, he spoke, “Legolas, your father—“

“Where is he?”

“Legolas—“ the healer began.

“JUST TAKE ME TO HIM!” The blonde elf bellowed.

The healer nodded, but his gaze was full of anxiety. Legolas knew it was bad.

The Prince followed him to the back of the infirmary. With ever step, his heart pounded faster and his blood burned with agitation. The curtain they were approaching loomed like a darkness in his mind. Did he really want to see what was on the other side?

However, Legolas did not have much time for contemplation because the healers hand grasped the fabric and yanked it backward for the two to enter. Slowly, the Prince stepped through, the hanging fabric falling back in place behind him.

As his ocean colored eyes fell onto the broken form of his father, Legolas clenched his jaw and fisted his hands. It took everything in him not to let a tear slip from his eyes. His father’s face, neck, and shoulder were almost entirely wrapped in bloodied dressings. It was wound around him tightly, securing the healing poultice to the burns underneath. The side of Thranduil’s face that was not encased in white gauze remained silent and expressionless. It remained quiet and empty.

It was the silent ones that were the concern.

Swallowing dryly and keeping his gaze glued to his father, Legolas spoke to the three healers crowded by the King’s bedside. “How bad is it?”

No one uttered a word.

“How bad?!” The Prince snapped.

“His injuries are extensive. The damage to the tissue is severe and his vision in his left eye will most likely be impaired.” The healer paused before speaking again, this time in a quiet whisper, “I—I am sorry, My Lord.”

Legolas blew hot air through his nose before speaking. “But he will survive? He will recover?”

A different healer answered this question. “Most likely, yes.”

The Prince turned towards her with an enraged scowl. “What do you mean most likely?!”

The nervous elleth bit her lip and looked up at him anxiously. “Well, we—we are unsure. It is too early to tell, but—but he is stable.”

Legolas nodded and focused back at his father as his mind filled with thoughts of doubt and frustration. How was Legolas supposed to do this alone? How was he supposed to rule Greenwood in his father’s absence—especially with the aftermath of a war exhausting their resources? He wasn’t a king—he didn’t know how to regulate and control an entire realm? Hell, he didn’t even know how to keep himself together in this room. He was barely old enough to lead the guard, nowhere near close enough to rule a kingdom. He was about to break and he knew it.

Legolas’ mouth set in a hard line as he turned to face the elves before him. “Keep me updated on his condition. If anything happens, I want to know immediately.”

They nodded in understand.

And with that, the Prince turned on his heal and stalked out of the secluded area. His footsteps thudded into the stone ground as he passed every elf in the infirmary. They gaped at him in trepidation, but he gave them no indication or acknowledgment. He just stormed through the cots full the broken bodies of his fellow warriors.

The doors to the infirmary closed behind the Prince, leaving him in the eerie silence of the empty corridor. Immediately, he pressed his palms and forehead against the cold, stone wall and squeezed his eyes shut. He stood there, letting his chest rise and fall rapidly, trying to pull himself together.

It was the silent ones that were the concern.

......

About a month had passed and, much like the surrounding areas, Greenwood had suffered great demolition from the dragon’s fire. Yet still, the King laid frozen in an unconscious state. Worries and whispers had constantly flown about the halls. Would he ever wake up? Was this the end of Thranduil’s life? However, Legolas had no answers for his people. He had no answers about anything.

Currently, the Prince sat upon the winding, wooden throne surrounded by various scrolls and papers. Night had long since fallen, and his mind was fogged from exhaustion but that mattered not. He still had multiple patrol reports to read, countless messages about trading agreements falling through, and various pleas for help from surrounding villages. Not to mention, all day he had been overwhelmed with several pestering officials and advisors arguing and bickering over what the best options were. But they had been no help—clearly. The only thing Legolas felt that he accomplished this month was depleting the wine collection, and that wasn’t necessarily a good accomplishment.

The young Prince was entirely worn out. There was no other word for it. The amount of stress and anxiety that bled from his mind was unbearable. He felt as if the world was caving in around him and trapping his form in an unknown environment. All his people—the guards, the maids, the servants, the everyday lay elves—they looked to him for guidance. Yet, he had none to offer. He was barely holding it together, much less running a kingdom.

Legolas sighed as he let yet another paper float from his hand to the floor. He couldn’t do this any longer. He just couldn’t. The Prince leaned forward, pressing his elbows into his thighs and placing his head in his hands. He sat there for a moment, still and broken. He could not help the frustrated tear that leaked from his eye. Everything was just too much. He missed life as it used to be. He missing only being captain of the guard. He missed only worrying about a small section of elves. He missed his Ada (father).

He felt entirely and utterly alone.

Standing up suddenly and grasping the neck of a forest colored wine bottle, he went to take a drink. However, before he could bring the bottle to his lips, rage infiltrated his blood.

He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t.

Legolas took the bottle and, with as much force as he could muster, chucked it against the wall as a loud yell bellowed from his mouth.

Exhaling slowly, he starred at the mess he caused. The little liquid that had been left now resided in the same place as the shards of glass. It spread across the floor—fragmented and red. Legolas clenched his jaw. He knew in his heart that he was just as broken as that bottle.

Not even a minute after, the large doors pushed open and a young ellon ran in.

“My Lord—“

Legolas shook his head and waved him off. “Tis’ nothing. Just leave it.”

“No. it’s not that.” He paused. “It’s—it’s your father. He’s awake.”

Instantly, Legolas head snapped up.

“He’s—he’s awake?”

A quick nod was all the Prince needed to leap down the steps and sprint in the direction of the healing ward. His pulse raced as he made his way through corridor after corridor. It was not long before he arrived at the infirmary.

The guards pulled the doors open and Legolas stepped through. In the nearly empty room, his eyes immediately landed on his father.

Thranduil stood, his back facing his son, talking with two healers. His hair was brushed smooth and a silk, white tunic and a pair of matching trousers covered his form.

“Ada?” The Prince called out weakly.

The King turned his head. His lips parted as his blue eyes met his son’s identical ones.

“Legolas,” he whispered.

Without any hesitation, Legolas sprinted forward. He had to stop his body from aggressively slamming into his father’s when he wrapped his arms around him. Still, Thranduil softly groaned at the impact, but he accepted the embrace from his child. The two royals then stood there, gripping tightly onto each other, as if there was nothing left in the world. The King cupped the back of Legolas’ head as his son buried his face into his neck. He could feel Legolas’ fingers tugging slightly on his hair, but he did not mind. He was just glad to be awake and have his son in his arms.

After what felt like ages, the two pulled away.

“But Ada,” Legolas whispered. “What happened to the burn? It looks as if nothing was ever there.”

The King chuckled lightly, “It is still there, only masked with illusion magic.”

Quietly, Legolas responded, “May I see?”

Thranduil closed his eyes for a moment and his perfectly smooth skin faded away. Ripped, contorted, and warped flesh took its place.

Legolas could do nothing but stare with a pained expression. It had healed, yes. It truly did. But it was an broken deformed scar. It looked, agonizing.

“Does—does it hurt?”

Thranduil tilted his head and, as he spoke, the burn faded away to the face that Legolas had always remembered. “A little, but the medications help.”

Legolas nodded slowly. “I am just glad you are awake. It has been hard with out you. I—I don’t....” He let his sentence trail off into nothingness.

Thranduil smiled sadly, “I know, iôn non (my son). I know.”

The Prince glanced down at his feet before speaking again. “I thought—I thought I lost you like we lost Naneth (mother).”

At his words, Thranduil’s brow pulled together and he could not help but see his son as the small child that he had raised.

“Oh, Legolas,” He whispered.

Thranduil pulled the Prince back into his arms and, at that, Legolas could not stop the couple tears that rolled down his cheeks.

Family truly meant everything to elves, and this was all that these two had left.

When father and son pulled apart once again, Thranduil cleared his throat. With raised brows and a sarcastic tone, he spoke. “Now, how much of a kingdom do I have left, considering it was left in your particularly destructive hands for a month.”

“Ada!” Legolas spluttered.

The King chuckled. “Well, when you were little, you—“

The Prince groaned. “I know, I know. You left me alone on the throne for a moment and I completely demolished your crown. We don’t need to bring it up again.”

Thranduil grinned. “I rather like that story. The advisors think it is hilarious every time I tell it to them!”

“Ada!”

......

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress?@quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust @elvish-sky @red-riding @brun-lieve @idiotic-canadian

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