#tolkien x y/n

[kenlvry]

LISTEN TO ME RN HEAT ME TF OUT STANS GANG + CRAIG DOIGN THE LIPSTICK TREND FROM TICTOK WITH READER

the lipstick trend with stan and craigs team

an, I AM LISTENLING ANON DONT WORRY. no idea what you mean by heat out though 🤨 , 17-18 and gn reader but use of her in tolkiens

kenny

he was the one who suggested it, it came across his fyp one day and he sent it to you "lets do this come over rn." "you asked, why dont you come to my house? 🤨" "why don't i cum in your mom" "HUH 😧" "im here."

you both definitely argue on what lipstick you should wear "okay but i don't even use pink lipstick" "well you should" "its light colour its not gonna appear" "well fuck 😒"

the process of kissing his face is wild, he would suggest to do his lips as the first place "KENNY HOW ARE WE GONNA DO THIS TREND IF YOU KEEP TRYING TO MAKE OUT WITH ME" "ITS NOT MY FAULT"

after like2 hours you finally get the lipstick on his face. now the tiktok was even harder he wouldn't stop laughing. you'd give up and he apologises while laughing

thank god you guys were able to finish it under 1 hour it turned out really good, at the end of the video he kissed you and you wanted to cut that part but he said keep it for like and its true the comments were all about the kiss on the last clip

kyle

okay he too wanted to ask you first but he was kinda shy and waited for you to ask and you did!! woohoo for kyle

"kyle wanna do this" "OKAY" he insists on picking your lipstick and picks the ugliest colour like what 😐

to him there was no such thing as an ugly colour buy it didn't suit your face so no way.

the process of it was calm, he at first wanted to put on the lipstick for you but you looked like a clown has mans never put on lipstick??

he watches you as you kiss him and reapply lipstick and then kiss him again, he feels like a princess fr 🤭🤭

he hasn't seen his face yet so when you record and he saw his face he laughs out loud, "LMAO WHY DO I LIKE THAT??" "WDYM"

you would tell him to take off his hat which he refuses but you looked too cute, when it posted cartman was first to comment and you can already tell what he commented "ew gay" your followers defended you two though 🤭

stan

stan blushes internally when you ask him. "sure im down" DEEP DOWN HE WANTS KIDNAP YOY AND KEEP YOU TO HIMSELF

"what lipstick do you think matches me best, pink or red?" "id say my tip colour" "WHAT 😧"

he has to hold in the very urge to puke every time you kiss him because like you look so cute omg.

he looks in the mirror and is js like "damn, i did it". HE LOVES IT SOOOO MUCH YOU CAN TELL HE'S BLUSHING ONGG ‼️

he even directs you like "do here next, okay now here" its so cute 🤭🤭

when you record and the camera pans to him, he smiles and covers his face blushing bc he can't contain it. it was such a cute video and got iver 2 mil likes. cartman definitely commented "i bet you had to change your clothes 10 times"

cartman

"cartman lets do this" "what." "wdym? cmon its cute" "y/n no offense but that is the most gayest shit i've ever seen" " NO ITS NOT UTS CUTE" "my reputation is at stake if i do that be so for real" "okay I'm asking kyle then" "lets do it."

he actually been wanting to ask you for weeks now but doesn't know how so winwin. you take your absolute time picking your lipstick and he couldn't be more done with "hurry up this doesn't even effect anything" "shut up cartman if i use the right one people will ask what lipstick it is and i get views"

picking a lipstick was already a big deal just imagine the process "ew gay not on my lips" "cartman 😐" tbh he wish he could just make out with you rn but yk how mans is

now recording is even more a hassle "JUST SMILE IS IT SO HARD TO CRACK A SMILE" "NOT WHILE IM LOOKING LIKE THIS" the most he does is wipes your lipstick off and then he just gives a 🙄 look until the end of the video

the comments are just him getting teased at clydes commenting "NAHHH CAN'T BELIEVE HE AGREED TO THIS" kyles is "i can tell that this took a long time" and then wendys is "is that cartman or a clone of him". cartman is pissed af at the comment, he told you his reputation is at stake 😒.

he actually has it saved downloaded and also is his live wallpaper sooo.

butters

butters is the one who asked you this " um y/n can we do this? 😣" while twiddling his fingers, "OKAY"

he's all giddy and smily during the process, after every kiss his blushes intensifies and by the end of it he is just.. 🔴

even though it is the most simplest video ever he has to have a tutorial, he is asking questions for everything man, how do i wipe the lipstick, what do i do, do i smile when its on me , do i laugh??

you tell him what he thinks he should he and he starts kissing you bc rn the sexual tension between you two is intense (to him atleast, he thinks thinks hand holding is already intense)

everyone comments on how cute he is and yk how tiktok is so people comment "does he whimper" "submissive who?" and hes likw WHATTTTT 🧍

clyde

when you suggested this he nodded so hard his head probably was about to fall off. "clyde you wanna do this" "DO I???" ..... "well.. do you?" "i mean yeah it's like a way of- yes i wanna do it"

he loves any lipstick you wear so he lets you pick. after every kiss he looks in the mirror and kicks his feet giggling and you just stand there 🤨

he also tries to make it a makeout session like kenny, when you kissed on his lips he holds your neck and literally makes out with like cnon we have 9 more

when you first hit record and yk how the guy has to wipe your lipstick off, nah he grabbed you by the chin and slams his lips with yours "WHY DIS YOU DO THAT??" "its called content,you wouldn't know with your 9 likes and 70 views"

well you kept the clip and everyone in the comments were talking about it "need a boyfriend like you y/n" "why can't my boyfriend be like this" clyde is obviously gloating bc he had the idea.

tolkien

most romantic man you know, is the first to ask you. "y/n can we do this?" "OKAY BOO 😝"

"hmm which lipstick do you think babe?" "i think every lipstick makes you pretty, it doesn't matter if it doesn't suit you because in my eyes you look beautiful in anything ☺️" "what if i wore kim kardashians 2013 met gala dress" "might have to rethink what i said"

he smiles while you kiss him here and there, every once a while he kisses you back, it was such a cute moment for you two😝🤞🤞

when recording he looks at you while smiling during the whole video and it blew up fast because of that

"the way he looks at her" "wishing he was like this" "you got the bag that man is inlove", it blew in seconds fr

craig

"craig lets do-" "okay" "i didnt even ask you yet" "I'll do anything if its with you" "what if i asked you to have a threesome" ".....if its makes you happy idk.."

idk about you but i think he acts like he doesn't care but inside he is so happy you asked he's been wanting to ask you this but doesn't know how to start up the convo

he doesn't care what lipstick or where you kiss him, its just the way you press your lips on him and look at it then quickly reapply to do it again because it wasn't pigmented enough.

when recorded, he doesn't just wipe he makes you turn to face him by grabbing your chin, and he doesn't let go and just looks at you with those yk siren eyes.

people are simping over him ong "damn girlie share for us" "you mean OUR boyfriend" "tryna find someone as hot as him" and you are pissed fr he laughs at you cursing out the people, like bae dw my eyes only fo you 😝🤞

tweek

"tweek, wanna do this?" "but what if I can't remove the lipstick stain" "tweek what dw i have makeup remover" "WHAT IF THAT DOESN'T WORK 🤯🤯" "TWEEK"

okay so the lipstick may turn out ugly bc of how shaky he is but ITS OKAY BC ITS TWEEK DUH, "a-are you sure you dont want to redo this?" "tweek its fine"

he insists on redoing it the 2nd try turns our worse because he's even more twitchy because of how close you are☺️☺️☺️

his face is just red because he keeps wiping it off with his hands so you can redo it and its obvious too

recording it was so funny because you can't stop laughing at the smudge lipsticks

when posted the comments were so cute but... uh questionable some were "the way the smudges are so obvious 😭😭❤️" or "wishing my future relationship will be like this 🤭" and some were just "tip colour when?? 😜"

[frost-queen]

Lady of Mirkwood | (Reader x Thranduil)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22@elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers @merlieve,  @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

| Meeting Thranduil

You met Thranduil when the Third age progressed. It was when the Necromancer unknown then but known as Sauron later on claimed the abandoned fortress of Amon Lanc to make it into Dol Guldur. Sauron infected the woods with spiders and orcs. The spiders and the orcs expended their reach claiming more and more for them. Infecting the very nature with their filth and death.

All the elves were forced to leave the woods. Those who fought back were brought down. Countless of lost elves filled the sickening woods. You were amongst some elves that were fleeing. The orcs had increased their stench to the part of the woods where you lived. With a few douzen you were. Fleeing for your lives as the orcs hunted you down. The woods had grown iller. Spider cobs were not too much yet in these parts. But a few spiders having expended their webs out to your lands.

Some elves wanted to stay and fight. They barely lasted long as the pack of orcs were too many. Sweeping them down in a matter of seconds. The others fled as fast as they could. Hatred, anger and sorrow grieving your hearts. You were running trying to stay out of the orcs clutches. The orcs attack made you stumble, dropping to the ground. Surrounded by death and darkness. You thought it was over. You thought you were never going to see the undying lands, but then a bright light appeared between the trees. The illumination blinded the orcs sending them back a bit. The light faded as you could see a small group of elves charge for battle. Lead by a High elf.

The orcs never stood a chance. The High elf approached you, helping you up your feet. The moment his eyes met with his, he was struck. Gasping breathlessly at your grace and beauty. The woods no longer having a place for you, he took you in. Thranduil his name was. King of the woodland realm.

| Life at the woodland realm

Thranduil was smitten with you. For the first time in many ages, the so cocky king found beauty in another. He threated you like a guest with the highest honor. Quarters close to his. Thranduil would host parties just to have an excuse to dance with you. He never let any other elf near you. He wanted you for himself. You sometimes dared to tease Thranduil by speaking to other elves, just to see his reaction. You loved how easily jealous he was. He would come over, pull you gently behind him while urging them in a polite way to leave. Sometimes he would lay his robe over your shoulder to hint to others that you were his.

Underneath the moonlight on a summer's day was when you had your first kiss with Thranduil. Forever giving yourself to one another. He married you a month later never wanted to be parted from you ever again. You became queen of the woodland realm. All the elves present adored you for your righteousness and kind heart. Whenever Thranduil dared to lose his temper, you were there to calm him down. Sometimes you would come along with Thranduil and his army in an attempt to reclaim your woods. When Thranduil saw his numbers dim and almost losing you in a battle, he gave up. Not wanting to see his people be slaughtered or see you in danger. For he could not afford to lose you, his brightest star.

| Legolas

Legolas was born with grace. You loved every little detail of him. Thranduil would be careful at first. For he feared to hold such a fragile creature. He feared he might harm it in any way. You would show him he could do no harm. Taking his hand and bringing it up to Legolas for him to touch. His fingers would brush against his cheek making Legolas flutter a laugh. On that Thranduil was sold. Taking his son in his arms and care deeply for him.

As Legolas grew older, Thranduil insisted he had his features from you. Everything about Legolas reminded him of you. With the coming of Legolas was Thranduil more careful. You were no longer aloud out of the woodland realm. Not wanting anything to happen to you or Legolas. You had to admit it felt a bit lonely being unable to see the old woods. Your home that you missed dearly. With each year it grew colder and deader. Plagued by orcs and spiders. Since you had no where else to go, you focused more on Legolas. Teaching him how to defend himself. It was you who introduced Legolas to the bow and arrow. When Legolas was old enough to have his own bow, he would name it after you.

———————————————

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[fvck-the-patriarchy]

Thorin, at Y/n: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Fili and Kili, from the kitchen: Would you like to stay forever!?!

[cowboybeepboop]

Fields 

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

Pairing: Thranduil x fem! Human reader

Genre: Romantic smut 

Word count: 4.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[dollyyss]

stop stop bc bc bc bc um um um.

maybe u should do hpw craigs gang kisses you. maybe

~🍋

Because I love you, and I was thinking of Craig and remembered I had this in my inbox.

Also I promise I’ll get requests done I post once or twice sometimes Daily so I do what I can! But please feel free to bring requests in!!

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ���꒱ ‧₊˚

𝘾𝙍𝘼𝙄𝙂𝙎 𝙂𝘼𝙉𝙂 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔 𝙆𝙄𝙎𝙎

𝙀𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥

𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥! 𝙃𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝘼𝙐

𝘾𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙜, 𝘾𝙡𝙮𝙙𝙚, 𝙅𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙮, 𝙏𝙤𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙏𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: not really aware of any, if there is please let me know!

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

Craig ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⋆｡˚

Craig leans into the kiss, he subtly brushes his thumb against the back of your hand, creating a tender connection beyond the physical act of kissing. It adds a sweet and personalized touch to the moment, expressing his deeper connection without saying it. one he just doesn’t do far too often.

-His kisses tend to be quick. Just pecks to your lips or the sides of your cheeks.

-I think there’s a part of him that’s a bit.. afraid to fully go in for it? He doesn’t want to kiss you just to kiss you, he wants to kiss you to.. explore that whole side of his love for you. But he doesn’t want to overdue it.

-Though.. when he does go in for it, his hands are holding onto you for dear life, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away from him. He becomes more confident in himself, pressing himself against you, his nose a bit squished against you.. your like some drug he can’t stop. Filling him with a buzz he can’t come down from. When like this he occasionally bites at your bottom lip, softly pulling when he stops the kiss.

- Never a huge one to do it outside ever or in public, and if he does they aren’t on the lips. They’re on the top of your head, quick swift kisses.

-He’s the same when not in public as well, except he’s more then okay with giving you them when you both are alone. So it’ll tend to happen more often then.

Clyde

In the quiet intimacy of a moonlit night, Clyde’s letterman Jacket had been hung on your shoulders, eyes wandering as he leaned in, his eyes locking onto yours. The air hummed with unspoken words as his lips met yours, creating an overwhelming feeling of the weight of a thousand untold stories in that stolen kiss. “You taste good.” With a soft shove he let out a blissful laugh, “Clyde you are so stupid.”

“Stupid enough for you to kiss again?”

- he’s quite the kisser. Will take any god damn kiss he’ll get. I’m telling you he’ll pout like a mother fucker if he doesn’t get it. He thinks your lips are so fucking sweet, so addicting.

-his normal kisses are always on your lips. Yes occasionally he’ll kiss elsewhere but he loves how soft your lips are, how they fit so perfectly with his. If he could kiss you a million times he would, never wanting to pull away.

-Clyde is completely okay with PDA. So kisses in public? 100%. He wants everyone to know you’re his. His arm will be hung around your shoulder whilst he talks to one of his friends. He’ll press a kiss to the side of your head every now and then, sometimes pulling your chin to look up at him and placing a kiss to your lips.

- He can be needy. When things are heated there’s no getting Clyde Donovan off of you. He’s pushing you back against his bed, lips locked while his hands roam underneath your shirt with curiosity. He won’t stop for air, I’m telling you. He’s desperate for you.

Jimmy

With an unexpected twist of humor, Jimmy seized the moment, pulling you into a spontaneous dance of laughter. Amidst giggles, he planted a playful, yet surprisingly genuine kiss, turning a lighthearted exchange into a memory where joy and affection collided in a delightful, whimsical symphony

- Oh Jimmy. That sweet sweet boy. He loves you tremendously. He likes to kiss you wherever! But his personal favourite is your nose. He loves whenever he makes a joke.. you laugh so hard your nose turns pink. He can’t help himself but plant a kiss to it, making you giggle even more.

- he’s okay with kissing in public, but he’s more then happy to share these moments at home. Though,, if you ever have a really shitty day at school, you have a panic attack.. anything. Text him. He’s immediately getting up from his seat and coming to your aid. Once he finds you, his crutches are against the wall and he’s sliding down the wall to sit, ushering you over to sit between his legs. Your face is littered in kisses, occasionally your lips.

- When moments become more intimate they tend to be a bit silly, his lips move at such a sloppy rate, his hairs a mess. Occasionally your teeth clink against his braces and he can’t help but laugh with you before diving back in. He’s gentle, but also likes to get what he wants so he does put quite a bit of force to it.

-he can be a goofy kisser…. He once puckered his lips for you to give him one.. just for him to blow a raspberry and piss himself laughing at your face..

Tolkien

In the soft ambiance of a candlelit evening, he held out his hand, a silent invitation to a dance that transcended mere steps. With a courteous smile, he led you through the waltz of shared glances and whispered conversations. Finally, in a moment of undeniable sincerity, he pressed a gentle kiss upon your hand, leaving an indelible mark on your pumping heart.

- stop because he’s so god damn loving. We know Tolkien to be quite the gentleman, he’s constantly kissing at your knuckles, your hands and up your arms. He’s like Clyde, he just can’t seem to keep his lips off of you. It doesn’t matter where.

-you’re sitting on his lap while his lips dance over your chin and jaw, sitting beside him class? He’s gripping your hand and placing a gentle kiss to it, crying? He’s kissing those tears away. You took a nap on his bed, he’s finding his way over and placing a kiss to your head and tucking you in.

-he’s more then okay with it in public. You don’t have to ask him please, he’s delighted to have your lips on him, he wants to show people he’s happy in his relationship.

-He’s quite good at it, he knows when to be rough, when to be soft, when to pull away to leave you wanting more.. and he uses this so often to tease you whilst your body sits on his lap facing him, a chuckle escaping his lips before he kisses your neck..

Tweak

Amidst the whirlwind of nervous thoughts, he took a deep breath, his anxious gaze meeting your understanding ones. In that vulnerable moment, he mustered the courage to bridge the gap, and as your lips met, a quiet reassurance unfolded—a kiss that spoke of shared vulnerabilities and the solace found in each other's presence.

-He’s so scared to do it wrong. He’s so scared to push forwards, to place his hands literally anywhere. What if you didn’t like it? What if you didn’t want his kiss? “Tweak my love, right here..” he melts when you place your hands on his to guide him. Once you’ve done it, he’s confident enough to place shaky lips on yours.

-He likes kissing your jaw, and lips. Your jaw being because he enjoys being able to hide his away, peppering kisses to your jaw while he takes in the scent of your hair. It’s soothing to him. And your lips because they’re so warm. If he’s ever just not able to calm himself he’s looking for you immediately to press his lips to yours, soon hiding his face and littering kisses all along your jaw.

-He’s typically not the one to act out on kissing in public but if you do it to him he doesn’t mind it. Just try not to in a group of people, not that he’s embarrassed of you but more embarrassed that people could stare at what he believes is a sweet intimate moment.

- hi. He’s whiny when he kisses. Because I said so. He doesn’t like when you pull back, he grips your shirt muttering out a shaky whine and almost begging you for you to come back. His eyes are half lidded, lips quivering while his hands find anyway to bring you closer. “No! You can’t just.. pull away from me like that, agh! I need you..”

- Needy. Whiny kisser. I love him.

[thewulf]

Undying Love || King Thranduil

Summary: Request - Are you taking King Thranduil requests? If you are taking... do you write with a human reader? The reader may be a Dúnedain. Or even Aragorn's aunt or older sister. She is someone who can overcome Thranduil's solid walls and sharp borders. Considering human age (although the Dúnedain lived longer) this results in sadness, as we all know. But these two can find comfort in each other, amidst their complicated relationship.

A/N: Not sure how much I like this one. It's really sweet and of course ends well. Let me know your thoughts :)

Pairing: King Thranduil x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k +

TW: LOTR Warnings

As you walk through the dense, towering trees of Mirkwood the ancient sentinels of the forest whisper secrets of the old world with every rustle of their leaves. Accompanied by Legolas and Gimli you stride purposefully down the leaf-strewn path, your eyes alight with curiosity. The fabled woods which were spoken of in many a tale and song unfold around you with a serene majesty.

Beside you Legolas moves with an effortless grace that seems almost like a dance. His elven heritage clear in every step. Gimli who was ever the stout and steadfast companion keeps up a steady stream of complaints about the seemingly endless trek through the trees.

As the elegant spires of the elven king's palace glint through the dense canopy of Mirkwood Legolas turns towards you with a distinctly worried expression. "My father can be... quite the traditionalist," he warns in a low voice. His clear blue eyes searching yours for understanding. "His views on the dealings of elves with humans and dwarves can still be quite rigid."

You simply shrug with a slight smile playing on your lips. "I've dealt with stubborn royalty before," you reply confidently recalling countless negotiations and meetings with leaders across middle earth. "I can handle your father Legolas."

Legolas hesitates. His gaze lingering on you a moment longer. His concern not entirely abated. "It's not just his traditional views," he adds before lowering his voice as other elves pass by with graceful nods. "He has rarely opened his heart or mind after my mother's passing. He guards himself, sometimes too fiercely. Be cautious still. He is not easily swayed or impressed."

Acknowledging his words with a nod you feel a spark of challenge light up within you. "Thank you, Legolas. I appreciate your concern, but these challenges are not unfamiliar to me. I’ll tread carefully but I won’t back down. You know me well enough by now." Your response seems to reassure him slightly though he still watches you with a mix of admiration and apprehension as you approach the grand threshold of the palace.

As the three of you step into the grand hall the air shifts, filled with the soft melodies of elven music and the fragrance of exotic flowers. The elven king himself stands tall and imposing at the far end of the room his sharp eyes locking onto yours as you approach.

"My Lord Thranduil," you greet him while bowing your head slightly in respect yet holding his gaze firmly. You knew exactly how to deal with his type.

Thranduil's initial surprise at your directness quickly gives way to intrigue. He steps forward. His regal bearing unmistakable. "I am told you are the King of Gondor’s elder sister," he states looking from Legolas back to you. His voice deep and resonant. "It is rare for a Dúnedain to tread these halls."

"The rarity makes it all the more worthwhile," you quip back not missing a beat. Legolas who was standing a few steps behind raises his eyebrows in surprise at the ease with which you banter with his father.

Thranduil lets out a soft, almost imperceptible chuckle. A sound few have heard. "Indeed," he replies. His eyes reflecting a spark of amusement. "Let us hope your journey proves beneficial for us all."

You meet his gaze with a steady, confident look. "From what I’ve heard Mirkwood could use a fresh perspective. Perhaps I can offer one."

He does not look offended only amused. "An interesting assertion," Thranduil remarks. His tone still cool but tinged with curiosity. "Many have come claiming the same, yet few have left their mark. What makes you different Dúnedain?" You knew what he was doing. Throwing your mortality in your face but it didn’t change your stance.

"My heritage might be human, Thranduil. But my experiences are as varied as the leaves of your forest," you respond smoothly. "And like the leaves I believe in change and adaptation."

Thranduil studies you for a moment. His expression unreadable. Then, almost imperceptibly, the corner of his mouth quirks up. "You speak boldly for one so young by elven standards. It is refreshing... and rare."

Gimli who had been quietly observing the exchange, leans over and nudges Legolas in the side with his elbow. He whispers just loud enough for Legolas to hear, "Seems like your father might have met his match, eh, lad? Better keep an eye on these two." His chuckle breaks your concentration with the king. Legolas shoots Gimli a slight glare, but there's a hint of amusement in his eyes. He couldn't deny the intriguing dynamic unfolding before him. His friend's words carried a hint of truth that piqued his curiosity even more even if they were whispered in jest.

The king's demeanor remains composed yet there’s a glint of respect in his eyes that wasn’t there before. "Very well, Lady of the Dúnedain. Let us see what changes you bring to Mirkwood. For better or for worse… it shall be interesting." Thranduil watches you closely. His initial skepticism slowly morphing into a newfound curiosity about your presence. Your ability to hold your ground in this ancient and enigmatic court hints at the intriguing days to come.

In the following days your interactions with King Thranduil shift from formalities to more substantial exchanges. You find yourselves often walking together through the lush, verdant gardens of the palace. The air filled with the earthy scent of moss and the distant sound of a waterfall. Thranduil who was typically reserved with his emotions began to open up under the canopy of ancient trees that have seen the passing of many ages.

One afternoon Thranduil shares with you the tale of his wife. The love he lost to the shadows of the past. His voice which was usually so commanding and steady, carries a subtle tremor as he speaks of the battles fought and the peace that never came. "Time has a way of healing, yet also of deepening the scars," he says quietly while looking out over a mist-covered lake.

You listen intently. Your heart softening towards the elven king who has borne much grief. "Even the mightiest of trees were once just seeds, my lord," you respond gently, touching his arm. "They grow, they endure, and sometimes, they too must learn to thrive anew after a storm."

Thranduil's gaze meets yours. The usual frost in his eyes thawing slightly. He nods slowly. A silent acknowledgment of the truth in your words. In these shared moments a mutual understanding blossoms between you. Both of you were shaped by loss yet you were still standing. Still reaching towards the light.

On a quiet evening a few days later you and Thranduil find yourselves beside the silver-threaded streams that lace through the forest. The conversation turns to the philosophical, exploring the ephemeral nature of beauty and life itself. "All things of grace and beauty such that one holds them to one's heart have a common provenance in pain. Their birth in grief and ashes," Thranduil muses. His gaze distant, reflecting the shimmering water.

"I know the pain of loss, too," you share softly while meeting his eyes. "But I also know that every moment of joy we find after loss is a treasure." Your words seem to strike a chord in Thranduil. His usual reserve melting away slightly as he considers your perspective.

In the following days the air between you grows warmer. It was filled with a quiet understanding. Legolas watches this growing bond with a mix of hope and worry. He approaches his father one crisp morning with caution in his voice. "Father, do you not fear the heartache that may come? She is mortal you know this. Her years will not touch yours."

Thranduil's response comes after a thoughtful pause, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion rarely seen by others. "Indeed, Legolas. I am aware of the shadows that time casts. But should we forsake the warmth of the sun for fear of the night’s chill? The joy she brings… the companionship we share, I find it to be a balm for many old wounds."

This acknowledgment marks a turning point. Thranduil begins to openly cherish the moments you share whether in laughter over a shared meal or in quiet solidarity during council meetings. He learns to embrace the present, the here and now with you by his side. He was learning to find joy in the everyday moments that life offers. Your presence brings a light to Mirkwood that had not been seen for many years. And brought to Thranduil’s heart a renewed sense of hope and happiness however transient it might be.

It was on one of these seemingly standard days that you and Thranduil find yourselves walking along a secluded path beside the murmuring streams. The serene sounds of the forest envelop you both. A gentle symphony that seems to slow the passage of time.

As the gentle evening breeze stirs the leaves, Thranduil stops before turning to face you with a look of resolve mixed with a hint of vulnerability. "The time is nearing when Legolas and Gimli will continue their journeys, exploring lands beyond our borders," he begins. His voice low and tinged with a somber note.

You nod with a sense of impending change hanging in the air between you.

Thranduil takes a deep breath, his gaze searching yours. "I find myself at a crossroads of selfishness and reason," he confesses. "Every part of me knows I should encourage you to see the world with them. To experience all that life has to offer. Yet..." He pauses while looking at you, his eyes reflecting the soft starlight. "Yet, I find myself wishing you would stay. Here. With me."

The honesty in his words touches you deeply, and you reach out, taking his hand. "Thranduil, I..."

He gently squeezes your hand. His other hand coming up to lightly touch your cheek. "I know it is much to ask, and perhaps it is more for my own heart's ease than for your good. But you have brought light into the shadows of these woods and into the shadow of my heart. If you would stay, I would have us spend every moment that fate allows us together."

You feel the weight and warmth of his words wrap around you like a cloak. "I have wandered through middle earth to its extent and seen many wonders, Thranduil," you reply softly. Your decision clear in your heart even before he asked. "But here with you, I have found a wonder that surpasses them all. I will stay. Not out of duty. Not out of necessity. But because I want to, my lord."

A smile that was as rare as it was radiant breaks across Thranduil’s usually composed face. "Then let us not count the days but make the days count," he says while drawing you closer. "For however long we have."

The decision to stay in Mirkwood was sealed by the simplicity of your shared love. It casts a new light over your days together. Despite the challenges that remain your acceptance of each other, and the transient nature of happiness only serves to deepen the love that blossoms between you. It enriched every moment you share amid the timeless woods.

As the seasons change in Mirkwood so too does the nature of your relationship with Thranduil. The initial sparks of curiosity and mutual understanding kindle into a deeper, more profound connection. You find yourselves often lost in conversation, or simply enjoying the peaceful silence that only true companionship can afford. Despite the knowledge of inevitable parting due to your mortality you both decide to embrace the present. Instead letting your affection for each other grow into love.

The palace gardens that were once a place of solitude for Thranduil become a frequent meeting spot for the two of you. Surrounded by ancient trees and the gentle sounds of the forest you share stories, laughter, and plans for the future of Mirkwood. The joy and peace you find in each other's company seem to breathe new life into the still-recovering woodland realm and even the elves begin to notice a change in their king. A lightness to his step and a warmth in his eyes that had been absent for ages.

However, your blossoming love does not come without its challenges. Thranduil's fears of loss are never fully quieted, echoing in his moments of solitude. The differences between your races occasionally give rise to tensions. Moreover, political pressures mount as not all in the elven court or beyond are pleased with a human holding such influence over their king. Rumors and skepticism swirl through the corridors of the palace adding a strain to the harmony you both cherish.

Despite these hurdles the two of you find strength in your unity. Thranduil had grown inspired by your vitality and strength. He learns to appreciate the present like never before. Savoring each day he gets to spend with you. One evening under a canopy of stars, Thranduil speaks words that both acknowledge the reality of your situation and celebrate the beauty of your bond. "Life is fleeting for some, enduring for others, but it is the living of it, the moments we share, that truly defines its value," he reflects. His voice steady and sure.

You nod as your hand found his, an unspoken agreement passing between you. The both of you decide to make the most of the time you have, regardless of its length. This acceptance brings a new depth to your relationship, allowing you both to live fully in the moments you create together whether they be marked by laughter or contemplation.

The acceptance of the transient nature of your happiness does not diminish it; rather, it enriches the love you share. Making each moment more precious. Thranduil finds a new perspective on life, one that values the joys of the present over the fears of the future. The love that blooms between you, against all odds, becomes proof to the power of embracing the now, whatever may come later.

But even time has a way of catching you. As it weaves its inevitable tapestry the lines of age begin to grace your features, each one a mark of the vibrant life you've shared with Thranduil in Mirkwood. Thranduil who was ever timeless in his elven beauty watches the subtle changes with a mix of admiration and a deep-seated fear of impending loss. The thought of a future without you by his side casts a shadow over his heart. One that grows with each passing day.

Driven by a love that has transcended the bounds of time and race Thranduil seeks a way to keep the two of you together. In a move born of desperation and deep love, he reaches out to Galadriel, one of the few with the power and wisdom to alter your fate. His plea is heartfelt: to allow both of you passage to the Undying Lands where time could no longer claim its toll on your mortal soul.

Galadriel who had observed the sorrows and joys of middle earth for ages was moved by the depth of Thranduil's love. She consents. "Let there be no more heartbreak," she declares, granting Thranduil the rare opportunity to vacate his kingship and travel to a land of peace with you.

The days that follow are bittersweet as you and Thranduil prepare for this final voyage. Legolas understood the significance of this decision. He steps forward to assume the role of king. His pride and readiness to lead assure both you and Thranduil that Mirkwood remains in capable hands.

Your farewells are heartfelt and tearful. Legolas embraces you both. His eyes shining with unshed tears but also with pride and joy for the new life you will start. "Go with peace, my father, and my friend," he whispers. "May the shores of Valinor bring you the tranquility you deserve."

Your brother Aragorn and his queen, Arwen, come to bid you goodbye, their faces a mixture of sorrow and happiness. "Sister, your happiness has always been my own," Aragorn says, clasping your hands. "May the stars shine brightly on your path."

As you stand beside Thranduil waiting to board the ship that would carry you to the Undying Lands you feel a profound sense of peace. The sea's openness echoes the vastness of the journey you've undertaken together. From the courts of Mirkwood to this final, eternal embarkation.

As the ship sails away, you stand beside Thranduil, his hand in yours. You watch middle earth fade into the distance, a land rich with memories and echoes of ancient songs. Turning to face the horizon where new beginnings and timeless shores await, you find solace in the shared silence that speaks volumes between you and Thranduil.

Looking up at the eternal stars glittering in the sky Thranduil speaks softly, a deep reverence in his voice. "Beyond the furthest shores, under the watch of the undying stars, we find our path anew."

You nod. The profound weight of his words mingling with the sea breeze. "Let the stars guide us as we journey forth into this ageless night." Together you sail into the undying light of Valinor, where the bounds of time no longer tether your spirits. In this new realm your love finds its place among the eternal sustained by the timeless peace of the undying lands.

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[emmyspov]

Prioritise yourself (Thranduil x Reader)

author's note: happy easter to everyone who celebrates it and a happy weekend to all either way🪻this is honestly one of the most scary things i've posted because it's something so personal that i relate to a lot, but i thought maybe someone else might need it, too🥺 please always remember that nothing will ever be more important than your health and well-being 🩷

warnings: symptoms of burnout, lack of sleep, exhaustion, negative self-talk, skipping meals, mentions of food, nudity (for taking a bath together) - please please please let me know if I forgot something! 🩷

word count: 1.9k

edit is mine, all pics are from pinterest :)

It had seemed like a smart idea when you offered Thranduil to help him with all the paperwork.

His days were filled with meetings and more often than not he only returned to your chambers once it was dark already.

So, for the past few months, you had been - more or less secretly - helping him with whatever you could: sending out invitations to other royals, filing away documents, re-writing contracts so all that would be left to do was sign them.

You were the king's partner after all and you wanted to help him as much as possible. This was your kingdom, your home, as much as it was his, as he regularly reminded you.

Thranduil noticed, obviously. The hours in his study were reduced since most things were taken care of in a perfect way already - he could return to your private rooms right after dinner and spend time with you instead which the Elvenking appreciated immensely.

However, over the past few weeks, things have taken a turn. And Thranduil noticed that, too.

How, on some days, you would get up earlier than him, how you would skip lunch and dinner with him - although it was one of your favorite things since you got to spend it with one another during your otherwise busy schedules - and instead eat by yourself, hunched over some papers. He noticed your tired eyes and dull skin and- lack happiness, to cut it short.

Worry didn't even remotely describe what he was feeling. He felt sick to his stomach when he thought about you being unhappy.

Today was no different.

You had gotten up before sunrise, leaving your husband a little love letter, before entering your own study to take care of all official things.

There was a lot to do. Other elves as much as people from Laketown and even dwarves were sending letters, hoping to schedule a meeting with the king himself to talk over whatever was bothering them.

You made it your mission to answer every single one of them, noting down appointments and also sending out excuses if Thranduil wasn't the right one to talk to when it came to certain matters.

By the end of the day, your head was pounding. You let out a yawn and rubbed your eyes, hoping to relieve some of the pressure behind them, but to no use.

Closing them for only a minute wouldn't hurt. You could still look for your husband afterwards.

A line had been crossed for the Elvenking.

It was the second day in a row that you skipped your shared meals and from what he just learned, you weren't eating them at all.

He needed to talk to you. He wouldn’t - and couldn’t - let you destroy yourself over some work. Your happiness and well being came first and he would make you realise that, no matter the cost.

After reaching your study and receiving no answer to his knocks, he let himself in with determined steps, only to stop abruptly as soon as he saw your sleeping figure. His eyes softened immediately.

"Oh, meleth."

With two big steps, he was by your side, crouching down until he was on eye level with you. Even in your sleep, you looked stressed, your eyebrows scrunched up, reminding him of the times you woke up from a bad dream.

"What are you doing to yourself, hm?"

Gentle, as if you would break like glass if he touched you with too much force, he picked you up and carried you out of the room and into your shared bed chamber where he set you down on the soft mattress and covered you with a fluffy blanket.

Thranduil left the room again for only a few moments so he could blow out the candle in your study and put everything where it belonged. He himself hated to work at a messy desk and didn't want you to deal with the same thing once you would return to work, although he didn't want to think about that yet. For now, you needed rest and all the love and care you could get.

He returned to your bedroom after he spoke to some of his subordinates to let them know neither he nor you would be available in the next three days.

You were still fast asleep, curled up into the blanket. The king walked over to you and slowly began to remove all your uncomfortable clothing before he himself put on a night gown.

Only then did he lay down next to you, carefully maneuvering your body into his arms, your head on his chest. Even in your sleep you wrapped your arm around his waist and entangled your legs, letting out a small sigh.

"Sleep, meleth, you've been working too hard", your husband whispered and brought his delicate fingertips up to brush some hair out of your face before letting them trail down to your back, rubbing some calming circles into your shoulder. "I'll watch over you, I promise."

And Thranduil kept his word.

He stayed up to make sure you slept through the night, occasionally pressing a kiss to your temple or the top of your head while his fingers were always touching you in some way.

It was nearly lunch time when you woke up the next day.

After noticing you were still cuddled up with your husband although the sun was already shining into the room, you immediately sat up.

"I- I overslept, oh Varda, there is so much to do. Why didn’t you wake me, my love?"

With a gentle force, Thranduil pressed you back onto the mattress.

"You've been overworking yourself for weeks and your health and happiness are suffering in return. I told everyone we wouldn't be available for the next few days. For the foreseeable future, we'll only take care of you."

You didn't want to cry. And you tried really hard to keep the tears at bay, but when the Elvenking looked at you with so much love in his eyes, you couldn’t stop them.

"I'm sorry for failing you, my king."

The elf wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. "Oh meleth, no. No, you didn't fail me, you never have. And you never will."

"I can't even take care of myself", you hiccuped, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "It's like the work and the pressure never stop and I'll never be good enough and now I am sitting here, crying to you, a literal king who has way more responsibility than me. I am so sorry to burden you with this."

Thranduil's heart was breaking. He couldn't believe this was how you saw yourself when, to him, you were the most beautiful being in all of Middle Earth.

"You are never a burden to me. Do you hear me? Never. We can fix this. You have to learn how to prioritise yourself. I can teach you. I will teach you. And we will start right now. You must be hungry, what do you want to eat?"

You fumbled around with your hands before looking up at the Elvenking. "Could I have some pancakes?"

Thranduil leaned forward to press a kiss against your nose. "Whatever you want, meleth nîn."

With one swift motion, he got up, put on one of his majestic robes and made his way to the kitchen to order your beloved pancakes and some additional treats as well as some hot and cold beverages.

He returned to your chambers with a first tray of food, watching your face lit up with delight at the sweet smell.

"Here you go, my love. Eat as much as you want and take all the time you need. There are no other things that need to get done today or the next few days."

You nodded and grabbed a plate, happily munching on the food the servants were bringing in over time.

The king was watching you carefully while he himself ate something. It was more than obvious that all the food was good for your mind, body and soul.

You let yourself fall back against the sheets when you were done, letting out a satisfied sigh. "That was good."

"It is about to get better. What do you think of a bath?"

Your eyes lit up. "Right now?"

The elf couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Is that what you want?"

You sat up, enthusiastically bouncing on the mattress and nodding your head. "Yes, please!"

Thranduil stood up again and walked into the bathroom, filling the tub with hot water and your favourite bath salts and flower petals before coming back to you.

With ease, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the bed, carrying you into the bathroom.

"Arms up", he ordered gently and removed your clothing, doing the same to himself afterwards.

"You're so handsome", you breathed out as you softly pressed your hand against his chest, right above his heart. "I'm so lucky to have you."

Thranduil's heart started to beat faster under your touch and praise and you smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach at the fact that you still had this effect on him.

He lifted you into the tub, setting you down and lowering himself behind you, pulling your body flush against his chest.

"I'm the lucky one."

You shook your head before letting it fall back against his shoulder. "You take care of me when I can't do it myself."

The king's deft fingers brushed through your hair, letting them trail down your arm. "We take care of each other. You are the one who decreased my work load so I'd have more time."

You intertwined your hands. "Well, of course. I want you to be well."

A kiss was pressed against the top of your head. "Do you see my point?"

You nodded. "I think I do."

Thranduil let his thumb brush over the back of your hand. "Tomorrow, we can take a walk in the garden and look at all the blossoming flowers. Or we can do whatever else will make you happy."

A smile graced your lips. "Just being with you makes me happy."

Gently, the ellon grabbed your chin and turned your head around so he could kiss you. You melted into his embrace, smiling against his lips.

"Gi melin", he whispered after you two had parted for air and you replied with the same sentiment.

Once you two had soaked in the water for a while, the Elvenking grabbed your shampoo and lathered up his hands before bringing them up to your scalp to work in the product.

The more time you spend like this with your husband - in your little bubble of happiness and safety - the lighter your heart felt.

And it only got better when Thranduil's hands wandered down your head to your neck and shoulders, massaging your tense muscles to help you relax even further.

You shuddered and the king grinned to himself. He was just as pleased as you were earlier that his touch could, still, make you weak in the knees.

"Rest, meleth", he whispered as he continued to work on your upper back. "There will be time to talk about long-term adjustments and solutions, but for now, you can let yourself fall. I'll be there to catch you."

Everything-Taglist: @shadowhuntyi @asgardianhobbit98 @fizzyxcustard

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[maedhrosiseverything2me]

The life of a short human with a giant elf husband.

Mae, discussing something with another elf: as I was saying-

*y/n, enters the room*.

Elf: aww is that your child?.

Mae: that's my wife.

Elf: oh

__________________________

On a hunting trip.

Elf,*visible concern on his face*:

My lord, don't you think it's too dangerous to bring your child on a hunting trip?

Mae: that's my wife.

Elf: oh-

__________________________

On a picnic together.

Mae and y/n sitting under the tree, enjoying their peaceful time.

Two random elves further away: look at how he is taking care of his child, that's quite sweet.

Mae,*screaming so they can hear him*: THAT'S MY WIFE!

The two elves: oh

*Meanwhile y/n laughing her ass out*.

[xmarchwarden-of-lothlorienx]

Two Halves of the Same Whole

Legolas x gn!elf!reader

Requested (Kinda): @legolastaint

Summary: “Ughhhh i NEED someone to write a legolas x reader fic where you just get to be feral little guys together. Please!!! I want running through the woods barefoot together, i want playing pretend!! I want catching bugs and frogs and the like and marvelling at their beauty!!! I want playing in a creek and catching fish and crawdads and shiny rocks!!! I want playing and making things out of all of our little found object collections!!! I want hanging out outside in the rain or during a thunderstorm!!! And i dont want it to be platonic!! I want this to be love!!!!!!!! I want this to be our affection for each other!!!!!!!”

Author’s Note: I hope I captured the vibe you wanted! As a feral little gremlin that grew up in the country, I’ve also wanted more fics like this :) It is a little short, but if you like it I can and will write more <3

The cold water of the creek was a direly needed refreshment. You had stripped off your boots, rolled up your pant legs, and were now wading in the shallow water. A splash from a few feet upstream told you that Legolas had decided to join you.

"Meleth nin, are you sure our friend won't mind us being late?"

"No, he will understand," you hummed. "Especially if we find a gift to bring him." The pair of you were on your way to visit a new friend, Willard, that resided in his own small corner of the Greenwood.

That is, you were on your way until you could no longer ignore the call of the creeks cooling waters. You intended to depart for Willard's home earlier, before the heat peaked for the day, but Legolas had been very particular when selecting wildflowers. He insisted the finishing touch for today's picnic be a marvelous bouquet that Willard could admire during the time before your next visit. After showing you the final product, you agreed with his vision, but now you needed a break from walking in the heavy heat of the afternoon.

"And what sort of gift would he like most," Legolas questioned.

"I think we will know when we find it." You scanned the creek bed for a glimmer of any long lost trinkets to gift your friend. The only thing to catch your eye was a school of small, shimmering fish coming to say hello in the water surrounding your legs. You softly laughed as they tickled and brushed against you.

"Do we have something that the little fish may enjoy," You called out to Legolas and gestured to your new acquaintances. A gentle smile, touched with affection at your care for even the smallest of creatures, spread across his face.

"I shall look, meleth nin." He returned to where he'd left the picnic basket on the shore, looking for something suitable to give the fish among what you packed. Legolas settled on some apples slices that he could further dice to a smaller size.

While bringing the bits of apple to you, something peeking out from the creeks sandy bottom caught his attention. He bent down and scooped it from the sand, gently swishing it around in the water to clean it off. The little treasure was a stone, more of a gem really, no bigger than a large coin, yet Legolas knew that this was it.

Legolas approached you, a grin plastered across his face as he presented the stone to you - its colorful and translucent surface resembling stained glass, smoothed and polished from the water. You let out a gasp, throwing your arms around him and nearly sending both of you tumbling into the water.

"It's perfect," you brushed a few stray strands of his hair away and pressed a kiss to his temple. "I know Willard will absolutely adore it."

-

You were walking side-by-side with Legolas, your hands intertwined while his free hand carried the picnic basket and yours carried the precious stone. The two of you were now approaching the large willow tree that marked Willard's dwelling.

You halted once you reached the tree, rapping the trunk with your knuckles a couple times, "Willard, we're here!" You shot a glance towards Legolas who had lowered and started to unpack the picnic basket. Kneeling down to a small gap where the tree's roots met the ground, you peaked inside, "Willard?" Your voice was met with a soft thud as Willard, the large toad that lived beneath the willow tree, hopped out of his abode to greet you.

"There he is," Legolas chimed in. "Perhaps we left him waiting too long and he laid down for his afternoon nap," he commented as he set plates and food down for the three of you.

"Maybe," You sighed, drawing your eyebrows together. "But I think our lateness will be forgiven once he sees his gift. Here," you placed the shiny stone several inches in front of Willard, who immediately hopped over to inspect it further.

"I think he loves it already, meleth nin," Legolas observed while passing you a flask of water to fill your cup with.

"I agree, I think you certainly have an eye for treasure, Legolas," a satisfied grace spread across your features.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips, "I think I most certainly do."

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Flower Crowns - Dwalin X Female (Baggins) Reader

Title: Flower Crowns

Dwalin X Female Reader

Additional Characters: The Company, Ori, Kili, Fili, Thorin, Bofur, Balin, Oin (Mentioned), Bomber (Mentioned), Gandalf (Mentioned), Bilbo, Bard (Mentioned), Bard's kids (Mentioned), Alfrid (Mentioned), and the Mirkwood Elves (including Legolas and Tauriel (Mentioned))

Requested By: Anon!

WC: 5,252

Warnings: The Hobbit canon violence/weapons/death/etc, Reader is Bilbo's sister, misunderstandings, broody Dwalin, blood, injuries, nicknames, crying (brief), orcs, death, Ones, giant spiders, movie reference to a different movie (bonus points for those who get it), yelling, angst, and fluff

Trudging up the path with a woven basket of homemade muffins, you made your way up to Bilbo's home. You were a bit late. You were supposed to be at Bilbo's over an hour ago, but you had misjudged when you'd finish your muffins. And you knew how much Bilbo loved your muffins, so you were sure he wouldn't be too annoyed by your tardiness after eating a muffin or two.

Stopping at the door, you let out a small huff before knocking on the round door... Only to receive no answer. You frowned, furrowing your eyebrows before just entering. Pushing the door closed behind you, you heard voices from somewhere else in the Hobbit hole, confusing you even more. Had Bilbo invited others to dinner?

"Bilbo?" You called out, beginning to wander over towards the voices that quickly stopped after you spoke.

But before you could say anything more, Bilbo popped out into the hallway, rushing over to you. "Y/N, I believe we'll have to reschedule dinner." He spoke, rushed as he tried turning you around.

Your frown deepened as you twisted around in his hold, your eyes staring at the circular entrance of the dining room, "What do you mean? Who have you invited over?" Your curiosity was peaked now, and you wanted answers. 

"Nothing! No one! Lovely seeing you!" Bilbo exclaimed, pushing you backward towards the door, ready to get you out. But before he could, you ducked out of his arms and sped towards the dining room. 

You skidded to a halt at the entrance, eyes widening as your jaw dropped slightly. Bilbo sighed, rubbing his face with both of his hands before walking over and standing beside you. Eyes glued to the surprise visitors, you leaned over to Bilbo slightly; eyes unmoving from the surprise guests, "Bilbo... Why do you have thirteen Dwarves and a wizard in your dining room?"

~~~

And that was how you got roped into traveling alongside Bilbo, Gandalf, and the rest of the Company. Gandalf somehow convinced Thorin that having a second Hobbit would benefit the Company. And, unlike your brother, you wanted to go with them. You had read so many books about adventure and heard so many stories... You wanted to get out into the world and go on adventures that you had read in those books. 

During the first few days of the journey to The Lonely Mountain, you became friends with most, if not all, of the Company. Kili and FIli, for example - the two youngest members of the Company - took you under their wing. When Thorin allowed the Company to rest, they would teach you how to defend yourself. Most lessons usually turned into fooling around most of the time, despite Thorin's grumblings. Fili and Kili were fun people to be around. They never failed to make you laugh, which was welcomed when having to face orcs and goblins almost daily. 

Balin was like a father figure to you, always giving worldly and wise advice. Bomber often let you help in the making of breakfast and dinner. Ori, the sweetest of the bunch, would tell you stories, which you eagerly accepted to listen to every time. It gave you something to look forward to. And Oin, when free to do so, would teach you the basics of healing; showing you what herbs and plants worked best for certain ailments, which ones should be avoided, and so on.

You enjoyed each member of the Company's presence, but Thorin and Dwalin were the only two who hardly spoke a word to you. You weren't sure whether it was because they believed you didn't belong in the company, or because they were just not talkers. You hoped it was the latter.

But between the two, you really liked Dwalin. You liked his gruff demeanor - the brooding look on his face - and in addition, you really found him attractive. His muscular build, strong arm muscles, and dark hair; not to mention the tattoos on his arms - you wondered what their stories were. It surprised you, in the beginning, when you finally let the realization sink in. Even Bilbo, the only one that you had told about this attraction - you didn't fully trust Kili and Fili with the information - Bilbo was shocked, to say the least. 

~~~

Walking with Kili and Fili, you snatched up bundles of flowers as you went, weaving and braiding them together into a crown. You had already made one for yourself, and Fili and Kili were quite invested in your creative, colorful craft.

"Where did you learn to create such things?" Fili asked as he watched you bend down, snatching up another flower from the grassy ground.

You shrugged, tying off another flower, "In Hobbiton, of course, Fili, dear," You began, fixing some of the flowers before continuing, "In originality, my mother taught me." You finished, weaving another flower into the crown.

"How does one make such intricate designs?" Kili then asked, twisting the stem of a flower between his fingers in thought. 

You smiled back at him, "Well, it is quite simple, Kili, dear," You began, "You just have to braid the stems of the flowers together. Simple really." You answered, spying on Dwalin near the front of the line - just behind Thorin, you glanced over at the two Princes' beside you, "I'll be just a moment." You spoke before jogging over.

Your smile widened as you matched Dwalin's pace once by his side. Looking over and up at him, he didn't acknowledge your presence. It never bothered you, him ignoring you... You understood that Dwalin was not the type of person to just chit-chat, especially when there were bigger things to do and worry about. Lonely Mountain speaking. 

Finishing the flower crown in your hands, you offered it up to the Dwarf, a bright smile on your face. "I made this for you." You explained softly, the flower crown - made of yellow, white, and red wildflowers - sitting in your hands. 

Dwaling stopped, and so did the rest of the Company. You suddenly felt a wave of anxiety wash over you - all eyes on the two of you - watching as Dwalin slowly turned his head to look down at you, to the crown, and back. And for a moment, you thought that you saw something flash in his eyes, something that wasn’t brooding, determined, or angry. You swallowed, finding yourself unable to take your eyes off his, your ears and cheeks burning as he grumbled and huffed through his nose. You were confused, your hope and happiness dwindling - your hands lowering slowly - as Dwalin turned and continued walking. 

Fully dropping your hands to your sides, you watched him go; feeling completely rejected. You knew that it was stupid. It was just a flower crown... And yet, you still held onto it with all of your heart, clutching it tightly in your hand; unintentionally crushing the flowers beneath your fingers. What did you do wrong? You just wanted him to like you... Tears stung in your eyes, but you refused to cry in front of everyone. 

The rest of the Company soon passed you, some giving you sympathetic smiles, some patting you on your shoulder or back. Fili and Kili stopped beside you, Kili frowning softly, as Fili gave you a pat on the top of your head; careful not to disturb the flower crown on your head. 

"Don't worry, Miss Y/N," Fili spoke, "He'll come around."

Kili nodded, "I assure you, he will." He let out a small chuckle, but you knew he wasn’t laughing at you. That was just him.

You nodded, doubting, but saying nothing more as they turned and followed the group; Bilbo finally coming over. "I'm alright." You muttered, looking up at him. You knew that he was going to ask you if you were alright.

"I'm sorry, Y/N..."

You shook your head, "No, it's okay." You whispered softly, trying to give him the best smile you could give him to ease his worries, "I don't know why I am so caught up in this... I must understand that I'm not really everyone's cup of tea. Not everyone wants to be my friend. If he doesn't want to be friends with me... Then, that's alright." You explained softly. Bilbo stared at you for a long moment before you began walking, dropping the flower crown to the ground. 

~~~

The night was cold, the stars shining brightly down from the sky as you huddled close to Bilbo; next to the fire. It was hard to sleep, still not fully used to sleeping on the woodland ground, but you were getting there. And, soon, you found yourself drifting off to sleep.

Dwalin, on the other hand, having the first night watch, stared into the fire before him. It was quiet, aside from the fire crackling and the crickets chirping. Dwalin seemed to be lost inside his own mind, his eyebrows furrowed, and dark eyes narrowed in thought. Hearing a small grunt and feeling the log under him move slightly, Dwalin glanced over to see Balin sitting beside him. Balin hummed lowly, staring at the fire, rubbing the palms of his hands together.

"She didn't know, Dwalin." He spoke softly, not wanting to wake the others from their sleep, and only getting a deep mumble from his younger brother; at the mention of you, Dwalin's eyes flickered from the fire to your sleeping figure; curled up beside Bilbo. "She does not know of our courtship rituals. I should’ve told her more about our culture." Again, getting nothing from Dwalin, Balin continued, "She only wishes you to speak to her. You have hardly spoken a word to her since leaving Bilbo's home." He stared at his brother's side profile, "You can confide in me, brother."

Dwalin continued his silence, his eyes falling upon you once more. He was conflicted. Ever since he saw you enter the dining room of Bilbo's Hobbit hole, Dwalin had been unable to stop thinking about you. The way you moved and talked... Your features were sharp, yet delicate, your lips pouting, and your hair flowing. You were kind, bright, and soft; everything Dwalin wasn't. Dwalin was rough and tough. He had scars, he had seen death, and he had seen suffering. But, you... He had never seen someone as beautiful as you. You were different. Dwalin sighed deeply, looking away from you. He didn't know how to approach you; he couldn't bring himself to act on his feelings. 

But he knew that you were his One.

He knew the moment he saw you. 

Dwalin hated being vulnerable, and he hated admitting anything to anyone. So he sat, his jaw clenched tight, trying his hardest to fight his growing feelings for you. 

"She's my One." Dwalin found himself muttering, far too quiet for most to hear, but Balin heard.

A knowing smile graced his oldened features. "I presumed so." Balin spoke with a hum, "I can only... Advise that you should speak to her. She cares for you. I am sure that she would understand." Balin stated, before letting out a small sigh, standing, "Think about it, will you?" And with that, Balin found his sleep sack, rolling into it and falling asleep.

Dwalin stayed awake much longer into the night, contemplating his decision as he waited for Gloin to take over the night watch. His older brother's words echoed throughout his head, and with a deep gruff, he let his eyes stray from the fire; the light making his eyes burn slightly. His eyes flickered from around the woods that surrounded him, to the Company before finding the stars and the moon in the sky, and finally... Back to you.

You, in your sleep, muttered something softly, unnoticeable. He watched as you rolled to your side, shivering, your hand pulling the fur blanket closer to you. Dwalin's eyes lingered on you, his mouth slightly agape before he snapped his gaze away. Feeling a wave of frustration towards himself, Dwalin's gaze landed on his sleep role. 

~~~

The next morning, you woke up to a bright blue sky, filled with white, fluffy clouds. You let out a sigh, eyelids fluttering as you shifted slightly and let out a breath. You groaned lightly before freezing. Your fingers brushed against the fur blanket over you, feeling the coarseness of the material. It was warm. Very warm.

Your eyebrows furrowed; confused. You opened one eye, squinting at the bright sun that was peaking above the tree canopies. Slowly turning over onto your back, you sat up, looking down at the blanket... Or should you say... Blankets?

You stared down at the fur blanket, that was not your own, before flipping the fur up, spying your fur blanket underneath. This second fur blanket - which wasn't yours - was a deep brown color, with little bits of white. Who gave you this last night? Were you really that cold last night that one of the Dwarves had given you their blanket out of kindness or pity? You felt a sense of gratitude fill your chest. Looking down at the furry blanket, you couldn't help but let out a smile. 

Looking up, you let your eyes survey the small camp, hopping from Dwarf to Dwarf until they settled on one. Dwalin. A wave of warmth passed over you, watching as he packed his sleep role away and into his pack. As Dwalin stood to leave, he glanced over at you, meeting your gaze for a brief moment; before quickly darting his eyes away, going over to Thorin. 

You felt the corners of your lips twitch slightly, a frown threatening to form on your face as you looked at Dwalin's retreating back. Did he hate you? Did he find you annoying? All these questions ran through your head, but you only huffed, getting up from your sleep role. You were not going to let Dwalin's behavior towards you sour your mood. Today was a beautiful day, and you wanted to savor it. 

~~~

You couldn't see, and all you could feel was the feeling of falling. You felt as if you were wrapped in something. It was tight around you, almost suffocating. Anxiety washed over you, gripping your heart painfully as your lungs begged for air. But you could hardly breathe. You needed to breathe, but you were trapped. You clawed at the sticky white substance that surrounded you, trying to rip it and free yourself, but you were not strong enough. You felt like giving up, though you knew you couldn't, but as you clawed at the sticky film, you could finally hear what was going on outside of the cocoon. You could hear the Dwarves yelling, yelling about spiders. 

Before you could do anything else, someone from the outside ripped open your cocoon. You blinked rapidly at the slight change of light, finding yourself back in the creepy woods. A large hand reached out to you and you quickly grabbed it, the person behind the strong hand pulling you up with force. Stumbling slightly, you felt slightly dazed, the hand still in yours as you found yourself in a giant spider fight. 

As you stood amidst the chaotic scene of giant spiders attacking the Company, your heart raced with fear and adrenaline. Eyes unable to leave the giant spiders - tunnel-vision - you gripped the hand in yours; giving you slight reassurance. The air was filled with the sounds of battle - the clang of weapons, the hiss of the spiders, and the shouts of the Dwarves. You could feel the sticky strands of webbing brush against your skin as you dodged and weaved through the throng of arachnids. You felt gross and dirty; and for the first time since the start of this long journey to The Lonely Mountain, you missed your Hobbit home.

With each passing moment, the fight intensified, the odds seemingly stacked against you and the Company. Your wide eyes danced around you, trying to spot Bilbo, but you couldn't find him. You wanted to yell out, to shout, but as your mouth opened, no words came out. There was an odd buzzing noise in your ears, your heart was beating loudly in your chest; harsh against your ribcage. Only then, did you look at the person who held you so close to them. You thought it couldn't have been Kili or Fili, but you spotted the two Princes when you lifted your gaze. Looking down at the hand that held yours, you felt your racing heart freeze for just a moment; an auditable hitch escaped your throat, but you didn't dare utter a sound. 

Standing in front of you and holding your hand tightly in his own was none other than Dwalin. You knew it was him. You knew those tattoos. Trailing up his muscular arm, you were finally met with the side of his face. His expression was hardened as he held his weapon tightly in his other hand. Aside from the anxiety and nervousness that had overcome you, you were incredibly impressed. Dwalin, with one hand, fought off giant spiders, whilst also keeping you perfectly safe. 

At the sound of something coming from up in the trees, you looked up, watching as no more than two dozen elves jumped to the ground, taking out the last of the large, monstrous spiders from around you. One of the Elves spoke to another, you noted her red hair as they spoke in Elvish. You wished that you could understand them. Your awe of them quickly diminished when they drew their weapons, arrows drawn and at the ready; circling around you and the Company. Soon, they demanded your weapons, and before you knew it, all the Dwarves were weaponless. 

"What about her?" One Elven guard asked in a demanding tone. Your eyes lifted up, finding the guard staring down at you. "Hand whatever you have over instantly." He demanded, holding out his hand, only for Dwalin's hand in yours to tighten slightly, gently pushing you behind him.

"She bears no weapons, Elf." He spoke in his deep, gruff, disgruntled voice. The Elf stared down at Dwalin for a moment before staring right back down at you, with a sniff and a small 'humph' he turned away. 

The blonde Elf, the one that you believed to be in charge of the whole group, yelled out something in Elvish, and before you knew it, you and your Dwarven friends were being pushed along, being led to hopefully, not your doom. Passing Thorin, you looked at him with pleading eyes, "Thorin, where's Bilbo?" Only for your answer to be unanswered. 

Your hand never left Dwalin's, your free, unoccupied hand found his arm; the skin upon skin contact grounded you, allowing you to calm yourself ever so slightly. You finally took a chance to look around, finding the forest opening, revealing a stone bridge. Pillars, beautifully carved, gave way to the entrance of Mirkwood, the Elven Kingdom. You wished you had the time to admire the architecture of the kingdom, but, sadly, you did not. Before you knew it you were being tossed into a cell.  

A hand fell upon your shoulder, pulling you to the side, your hands falling from Dwalin's. "Dwalin!" You called out, trying to reach for him, but you were soon shoved into a cell. Stumbling over your feet, you braced yourself on the rock interior of the cell. Hearing the heavy cell door close behind you, you snapped your head up; feeling exhausted, mentally and physically, but you pushed yourself forward. Your hands curled around the bars, trying to look at the cells beside yours. The sound of the now-captured Dwarves - yelling and complaining. 

"Miss Y/N!" Fili yelled out, only a few cells away from yours, "Are you alright!?"

"I'm fine!" You called back, "Is everyone else alright?"

Most, if not all, of the Dwarves, replied with various 'ayes’. You sighed in relief, closing your eyes; the chill of the cell door refreshing on your forehead. 

Sitting on the floor - you felt the hours pass you by slowly - you pressed the back of your head against the wall; tired. "I wager the sun is on the rise. Must be nearly dawn." Bofur called out, his voice echoing throughout. Your eyes fluttered open, a yawn leaving your parched mouth. 

"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" Ori asked, sounding resigned, making you sigh.

"Don't fret, Ori, dearest." You spoke up, sounding a bit resigned yourself, but you were determined to keep everyone's spirits high. "We'll make it." You continued, looking out of your cell door, "We will." With that said, you stood up from the ground, wincing as pain shot through your legs. Looking down, you noticed a rip in your trousers that you replaced your usual dress with. Pushing the ripped fabric to the side, you then noticed a red substance that trailed down your leg; coming from a small scratch on your calf. "Well," You spoke up, clearing your throat. "I may have been slightly injured."

Simultaneously, the Dwarves began to talk. Their voices became louder, some with more worry and concern. "Miss Y/N, you are injured!?" You heard Fili call from his cell.

"Yes, tis but a scratch." You explained, hoping the Dwarves would stop fussing over you. You weren't a damsel in distress. You were strong, even with a bloody scratch. "But worry not, dearest Dwarves, it's nothing I can't handle."

"You won't have to handle it for long." You heard, eyes widening - mimicking your bright smile - as Bilbo appeared at your cell door, holding the keys. 

~~~

When you joined the Company on their journey, you did not expect that you'd trick goblins, climb bit trees, fly on eagles, fight giant spiders, and barrel ride down a raging river. This was certainly an adventure that you'd go through again, minus the goblins and giant spiders; you'd love to fly with the eagles again.

Somehow, you survived, floating down the raging river, your clothes all sopping wet, and river water dripping from your hair. As all of your barrels fell down a waterfall, you couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Behind you, you could hear the laughter of some of the dwarves. For a moment, you forgot about your injuries; and the exhaustion that was seeping into every fiber of your body. Your hands tightened your grip on the railing of the barrel, praying for it to not capsize or tip over, your fingers growing numb with cold. You tried desperately to ignore what was going on around you. Smelling the fresh air, and hearing the birds chirping above you, almost made you forget everything else.

But at the sound of a horn, you were quickly snapped out of your head, watching as the suited Elves began to shut the gate; the only way to escape. All joy, and a sense of freedom, flew right out of the window. You all collided with each other at the closed gate, you huffed, glaring up at the Elven guards before your eyes caught sight of an arrow flying through the air, and into one of the guards. 

"Orcs!" You yelled out, gesturing up at the guards, as the one that was shot fell into the water below; almost hitting you. "Why does it always have to be orcs?"

You dodged the best you could when dead elves and dead orcs fell into the water, along with dodging arrows, and over-confidant orcs that tried to swing at your head. 

You were about to call for Bilbo, but when you turned your head, you watched as your brother stabbed a sword into an orc, defending one of the dwarves. 

"Miss Y/N!" Ori cried out, making you look over to him, only for him to point above you. 

You looked up, your eyes widening at an orc - dead - began falling towards you. Unable to move, almost frozen in fear, you squeezed your eyes shut and shielded yourself with your arms, only for your barrel to be pushed back and out of the way. You opened your eyes, blinking them rapidly as the river water splashed in your face. Looking over, you just saw a glimpse of Dwalin turning back around. Despite the obvious danger that you were all in, you wondered what you could do for Dwalin since he had saved your life twice now. 

Turning your eyes to the side, you watched as Kili ran up the side of the stone top of the gate, you covered your mouth as an arrow flew through the air and hit him in the leg. Fili cried out of this younger brother, as Kili then opened the gate, and fell into an empty barrel. 

Falling down, yet another waterfall, smaller than the last, you pushed your wet hair from your face, only to grip the barrel with as much force as you could; the raging, white-foaming waters continued. Looking to your side slightly, you watched as Bilbo held onto a barrel, holding onto the sideway barrel, his own death-like grip. You felt a small bit of relief, seeing him safe. You, and the Company, continued down the river, and the longer you tried not to tip over and drown, the more you wished that you weren't in the freezing waters. 

Finally, the raging stopped, and the river was calm. Leaning over slightly in the barrel, you brushed your hands in the freezing water, moving your barrel forward slowly, but carefully. 

"Make for the shore!" Thorin yelled out, receiving some 'ayes' in return.

Pushing your barrel forward, you pressed your cheek against the rim of the barrel, your eyes drooping slightly as you continued to push yourself toward the shore. Your barrel soon hit the rocks, and you used the rest of your strength to get out of it, climbing up onto the rocks; completely soaked. You trudged up the rocks, wrapping your arms around yourself as you mentally counted those around you, counting fourteen. Mentally, you could rest.

Feeling a hand on your upper arm, you looked to the side, seeing your brother Bilbo. Just his presence made you give him a small smile, seeing the worry in his eyes. "I'm alright." You spoke to him, wanting to reassure him, "I'm just cold."

At the surprise of meeting Bard, the human, you sort of let your brain shut off. You felt your feet move as you followed the Dwarves to Bard's boat. You felt yourself sitting down in the corner next to Bilbo, and hiding from Alfrid, but you were far from the present. You were so tired, mentally and physically, that you let your mind quiet, letting yourself only fade back into the world you knew once you felt the warm fire at your feet.

"Wee lass hasn't spoken since the Elves." You heard a hushed voice, it was Bofur. 

You pressed your legs closer to yourself, staring into the flames. The clothing you were given, having been one of Bard's daughters, was warm; the fabric soft - your fingers toyed with the soft material. 

"Is she alright?" Ori asked worriedly, only for Bilbo to nod, crossing his arms. 

"She's alright. She had told me so." Thorin only gave you a short glance before turning back to Bard. 

Dwalin, with his arms crossed, turned to look at you, staring at your side profile. Glancing over at the table that Bilbo sat at, Dwalin said nothing, walking over to the table and grabbing a plate. Bilbo, in turn, watched as Dwalin filled the plate with a few potatoes, two small tomatoes, and a small slice of bread. 

Your eyes picked up the sound of heavy footfalls coming towards you, and at the sight of a plate coming into your field of vision, you moved your head to look up. As you looked at Dwalin, his face stoic as usual, you couldn't help but smile. Taking the plate, your fingers briefly brushed against his.

"Thank you, Dwalin." You spoke softly, but before he could slink away, you grabbed his hand, stopping him. For a moment, you thought back to when he held your hand so tightly - protectively - in the Mirkwood forests. "Thank you for saving me. Twice." You smiled at him softly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "And I apologize if I had anything to upset you, or make you uncomfortable." He glanced over at you, then down at your hand which was wrapped around his. He didn't remove his hand from yours, giving you the same squeeze that you had received from him earlier today. 

Dwalin stared at your hand in his, his jaw clenching before he looked back to you, his eyes softening. "You did not, dorzada." He spoke gruffly, “Eat.” He finished before leaving your side, your hand dropping from his. 

You looked down at your plate of food, your stomach grumbling and spinning, as your mind wandered. Picking up the slice of bread, you bit down on it, thinking about the word that Dwalin called you. You wondered what it meant. 

~~~

"Oin, stay with Kili." Thorin commanded as the rest of the Dwarves began to gather their things. Without being told, Fili stayed by his brother's side. 

"I want to come too." You spoke, grabbing a random weapon from the wooden table.

Dwalin quickly turned, staring down at you, "It will be too dangerous for you, lass."

You huffed, lightly glaring up at the Dwarf, "I have fought trolls, orcs, what have you." You pointed out, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "I want to fight."

"This is against us Dwarves and the dragon." He grumbled, his hand taking a hold of the weapon in yours. "You'll die before the beast does."

"I'm already dying anyway," You shrugged, looking back down at your weapon, "From the moment we're born, we're dying. So, what is the point? I want to help."

Dwalin breathed out of his nose as he took hold of your other hand, "No, no, lass, you are staying here, with Kili, while the rest of us fight."

"Are you telling me, or are you commanding me, Dwalin?" You asked, voice becoming soft as his eyes bored into your own. "Do as you wish then," You sighed when receiving no answer, letting go of his hands, "But please, do not die." 

Dwalin humphed, the corners of his lips just twisting up into a small grin, and for a moment, you were stunned. Dwalin was smiling. "Don't worry," He spoke. "I won't." His gaze softened, as he stepped back from you, "Be safe, lass." With that, he started to walk away, only for you to grab his arm and stop him. You didn't say anything else, merely pulling him close to you.

You felt him tense in your abrupt embrace before his one hand, not holding his weapon, circled you. But, it all ended too soon, as he pulled back from you, nodding to you before turning his attention to the group, as they set off to The Lonely Mountain. 

Your shoulders sagged when the door closed, a small pout upon your lips, "Do not fret, Miss Y/N," Fili spoke from beside his brother as you turned to look over at the four Dwarves - Kili, Fili, Bofur, and Oin. "They will return."

You let out a sigh, looking out at the window. A fuzzy feeling rose within your chest, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself. After watching them disappear into the distance, the sun went to sleep, "I know."

---

Main Masterlist | The Hobbit/LOTR Masterlist

[selinay-in-wonderland]

The Elven King Who Never Belonged to you (Thranduil x Reader)

The storm had come out of nowhere.

One moment, you were hurrying home through the rain, pulling your coat tighter, and the next—a blinding flash of light, a searing crack of energy, and then... nothing

When you regained your senses, you found yourself in a dark, imposing forest. Rain lashed at you from every direction, cold and relentless. The towering trees, their twisted branches forming a dense canopy, blocked out the faintest hint of daylight. The ground beneath you was thick with mud, and the scent of pine and damp earth filled the air.

You turned around, panic rising. This wasn’t a dream it was real.

Hooves clattered in the distance, growing louder and more distinct. You turned just in time to see a tall figure emerging from the mist, mounted on a pale, elegant moose.He was dressed in silver and green, a crown of woven branches and red leaves atop his head.

Thranduil.

You recognized him immediately. The Elvenking from “The Hobbit trilogy”. The same regal, mesmerizing figure you had admired from afar and had harbored a secret crush on. The character from countless fanfictions and daydreams, the subject of your deepest fantasies. Now, standing before him in the flesh, the fantasy was uncomfortably real.

Thranduil’s appearance was as breathtaking as it was intimidating. His pale face, starkly visible in the intermittent lightning, was as beautiful as it was cold. His icy blue eyes scrutinized you with an unsettling intensity. The awe you had felt from reading about him was replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread.

“Who are you?” His voice cut through the storm, commanding and severe.

You shivered, the rain blurring your vision. “I’m y/n” !You stammered, trying to keep your voice steady. “I... I don’t know how I got here. I’m not from this world.”

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed, his expression as unfeeling as stone. “That much is obvious,” he said, dismounting with a fluid grace that seemed almost mocking. He approached you with deliberate steps, his long robes trailing through the rain, making you feel small and insignificant.

“You do not belong here,” he declared, his tone final and harsh.

The weight of his words crashed over you. This wasn’t a dream or a fleeting thought. You were truly standing before the Elvenking, the object of your deepest crush. The realization that the fantasy you had cherished was shattering under his cold gaze was almost too much to bear. “I know,” you whispered, the chill and the truth sinking in. “I don’t want to cause harm. I just... I don’t know if I can go back.”

Thranduil’s gaze remained unyielding, as if he was assessing you with a detached curiosity. The only sound was the relentless patter of rain. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice carrying a sharper edge.

“Do you wish to return to your world?” His tone was almost disdainful, as if he was challenging you to admit your desires.

You blinked, the question catching you off guard. Did you want to go back? The rational part of you screamed yes. Your world was familiar, even if it was mundane. But here, standing before Thranduil, you felt a pull, a longing for something more. “I... I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Thranduil’s gaze remained impassive, his face a mask of regal indifference. “Mortals are often drawn to what they cannot have,” he said, his tone dismissive. “You yearn for what lies beyond your reach, yet do not understand the true cost.”

He moved closer, the scent of rain-soaked leaves and ancient wood filling the air between you. His voice dropped to a whisper, the finality in his words cutting through the storm. “Every world has its own order. Yours is not here, just as mine is not in the world you left behind.”

The finality of his words hit you like a physical blow. You opened your mouth to argue, to explain that you wanted to stay, to explore this world you had only ever dreamed of. But as you looked into his eyes, the reality set in. This world was not yours to claim. You were a stranger, an intrusion into its natural order.

“I... understand,” you said quietly, the bitter taste of acceptance settling in your mouth.

For a brief moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes—regret, or perhaps sorrow. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced once more by the cool, detached demeanor of the Elvenking.

“The storm will pass,” Thranduil said, turning away from you with a dismissive air. “And so will you.”

You stood alone in the rain, watching as he remounted his moose with practiced grace. His soldiers, silent and watchful, followed him as he rode away, his figure gradually dissolving into the mist and shadows of the forest.

As the storm began to ease, you felt a strange warmth envelop you. Your body grew heavy, your vision blurring as the forest around you distorted once more. The harsh truth of your situation settled in—the dream and fantasy of being with Thranduil had been a mere illusion.

Just before everything faded completely, you found yourself back in the city streets, rain still falling, your coat as damp as before. The familiar cold and grayness of your world was now a painful reminder of what you had lost.

The harsh reality was clear. The Elven King, who had lived in your dreams and stories, was a figure who never truly belonged to you. He remained an unreachable ideal, a dream shattered by the cruel light of reality.

And as the rain continued to pour, you understood that some things were never meant to be grasped. Some lives and worlds were only fleeting glimpses, meant to remain just out of reach.

The biggest and saddest realization that you made was that the Elven King never belonged to you….

[fvck-the-patriarchy]

Kili: Look, I know you think my judgement's clouded because I like Y/n a little bit.

Thorin, holding Kili's notepad: You doodled your wedding invitation.

Kili: No, that's our joint tombstone.

Thorin: My mistake.

[cowboybeepboop]

Magic

"Your hands are... quite magical, you know that?”

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut

Word count: 4.3k 

Summary: Modern reader falls for Thorin and captures his heart. 

Warnings: Soft thorin, unprotected sex, handjob, p in v sex

a/n: Idk I’ve been wanting to write smth like this for a while so hopefully it’s good. Let me know if you have any requests and I hope you enjoy. I’m also currently in school so I’m trying to write in my free time but it’s a difficult balance 😣💔

Gandalf had come across you lost and confused, wandering the trails of the earth. You remembered him, his face, from a movie you had seen in your world. “Gandalf?” You called out to him suspiciously. 

"Hm?" He looked around then spotted you. "Ah! A human! What are you doing out here all alone in the middle of the wilderness?"

“I don’t.. I don’t know?” You reply, stepping closer to him seeking the warmth of another body. 

Your stomach growled, you have been wandering for hours, maybe even days. Your clothes aren’t from this world and aren’t proper hiking attire. 

You adjust the skirt of your dress as you stop in front of him. “I’m not sure where I am..”

His bushy eyebrows furrow at your strange, out-of-place clothes, and a bemused look crossed his face. 

He took a step closer, noting your exhaustion and the state of your attire. "I can see that. You don't belong here, do you?"

Gandalf assessed your weary state and wrapped his large cloak around you gently, guiding you towards his horse. 

"You look exhausted," he murmured, concern in his eyes. "You can ride with me to Erebor. It is not far."

With a little help from him, you clambered onto the horse's back, settling between Gandalf and the horse's broad neck.

Gandalf led you through the winding paths towards Erebor, the mountain's towering presence growing larger and larger through the trees.

His horse carried you both steadily, and after some time, the grand entrance to the dwarven kingdom came into view. 

Gandalf dismounted first and helped you down from the horse before guiding you into the hall of the dwarven king.

King Thorin Oakenshield sat upon a throne carved from solid oak, a long, dark beard covering most of his broad chest. He regarded you with quiet curiosity as you and Gandalf approached.

"Gandalf," Thorin greeted. "You've returned. And with a strange companion?"

Thorin's gaze flicked between Gandalf and the strange human standing beside him. It was a woman, but not like any he had ever seen before. Her clothes were unlike anything from Middle Earth, and she appeared lost and dazed.

"Who is this?" Thorin demanded, his voice sharp and suspicious. "And where did you find her, Gandalf?"

You subconsciously hold the cloak closer to you, shifting under the scrutiny of the King.

Thorin's blue eyes, sharp and calculating, studied you closely. The way you clung to the cloak, the slight tremble in your hands, it all spoke of fear and uncertainty.

Gandalf stepped forward, gesturing to you. "King Thorin, this woman... she appears to be lost. I found her wandering in the wilderness, disoriented and bewildered."

“Y/N.” You say softly, “My name is Y/N.”

Thorin's eyebrows raised at the sound of your name. It rolled off your tongue softly, and he noted the gentleness in your voice. 

"Y/N," he repeated slowly, the pronunciation foreign on his tongue. He then turned to glare at Gandalf, his eyes narrowing with a hint of suspicion.

“I don’t mean to intrude..” you give the king an awkward smile. “But is there any food I might be allowed?” Your hand goes to your rumbling stomach, your expression a grimace.

Thorin's eyes softened as he heard your stomach grumble. He couldn't help but let out a small, gruff chuckle, amused by your honesty. 

"Starving, are you?" he asked, a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "We can't have that now, can we?" 

He then barked out a command, "Nori! Bring some food and drink for our new guest!"

You visibly relax, a small smile creeping up your lips. “Thank you.”

Thorin's stern demeanor softened slightly as he saw the relief on your face. "It's the least we can do," he replied gruffly.

Nori, a wiry, quick-fingered dwarf, came rushing into the room, carrying a tray of steaming food and a tankard of ale. He placed the tray on a table near you, a sly smile playing on his face. "Here you go, lass."

You reach out and give him a swift hug. “Thank you so much,” you grin widely as you take a seat, eyes sparkling.

Nori's cheeks flushed as he received an unexpected embrace from you. He chuckled and patted your back awkwardly. 

"No problem, lass. Just doing my job." He backed away, mumbling something under his breath about "soft humans" as he scurried out of the room.

Meanwhile, Thorin watched the exchange with a mix of surprise and fascination. He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

Thorin observed you, watching silently as you took a small bite. His penetrating blue eyes studied your every move, his gaze unwavering. There was something about you that intrigued him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Finally, he broke the silence. "So, Y/N," he began, his voice deep and rumbling. "Can you tell me how you came to be lost in the wilderness?"

“Not really.” You chew eagerly, the cloak Gandalf gave you sliding down your shoulders slightly and exposing your skin to Thorin's gaze.

Thorin's eyes were drawn to the exposed skin of your shoulders as the cloak slipped down. A shiver ran down his spine at the sight of your bare flesh. He quickly schooled his reaction and returned his gaze to your face.

"What do you mean, not really?" he asked, his voice gruff, feigning indifference. "You must have some idea of how you ended up out there, lost and alone."

“I don’t..” you sigh, stopping your chewing as you look up at him. “I just remember falling asleep in my bed and then waking up in a cold dark forest.”

Thorin's brow furrowed at your response, confusion and concern etched on his face. "So... you just appeared out of nowhere?" he asked, his voice edged with skepticism. 

He took a step closer to you, eyeing the strange clothes you wore. "And what of your clothes? Those are unlike any I've ever seen."

“I was at a party,” you laugh, looking down at your revealing dress that is less than practical in this situation.

Thorin's gaze darkened as he took in the sight of your party attire, the low neckline and the bare length of your thighs on display. He swallowed heavily, his mind wandering to places he shouldn’t allow it to go. 

"A party, you say?" He repeated, his voice a little huskier than he had intended.

You nod, Thorin joins you at the table, encouraging you to eat as he continues to question you. 

A few weeks have passed since you arrived, you’ve become a little more versed in the world and palace. Having now met each of the many dwarves living in the palace.

As the weeks passed and you grew accustomed to the palace, he found himself seeking your company more and more.

The other dwarves had grown fond of you as well, especially Fili and Kili who teased you frequently and took every opportunity to make you laugh.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Thorin invited you to his private chambers once again. 

You carefully step toward his room, cautious and silent as to not wake anyone. You lightly tap on the heavy door, “Uh your highness?”

Thorin rose from his chair as he heard the soft tapping on the door. He took a moment to compose himself before calling out, his voice gravelly and deep, "Come in."

He stood by the fireplace, the amber glow of the flames dancing across his face as he waited for you to enter.

You struggle with the door, still not used to how heavy doors in this world are. “Fucking hell,” you murmur as you finally get it open, slipping inside and walking toward Thorin.

Thorin chuckled; he found your modern curses amusing and strangely endearing.

As you approached him by the fireplace, he took in your appearance. The low light of the fire illuminated your features, casting soft shadows across your face. He noted the way your gown clung to your curves, and his eyes darkened slightly as he fought to control his thoughts.

"Close the door," he commanded in a gruff voice, his gaze still fixed on you. 

The room was large and sparsely furnished, with only a few pieces of furniture placed throughout. The fireplace provided a warm, intimate setting, and Thorin gestured for you to take a seat on a nearby couch.

You close the door carefully, trying not to make too much noise. Having your back turned to the dwarf meant his gaze could wander your frame and each slight movement of your body. 

“Thorin,” you take a seat next to him. “Those doors are so damn heavy.”

As you settled down beside him, Thorin couldn’t help but notice the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. His eyes were drawn to the subtle movement of your body, the way the fabric of your gown clung to your curves.

He chuckled at your comment, a gruff sound that rumbled in his chest. "You'll get used to it," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. "After all, you've been here for a few weeks now."

You’ve gotten used to being in his room as he’s been teaching you the history of his kingdom, but you’re never here this late in the evening. “Did you miss me?” You tease as you relax into the plush couch.

Thorin's lips curled into a small smile at your playful tone. He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the hint of amusement in his gaze.

"Don't get too cocky," he grumbled, trying to appear aloof. "I just thought you might want to know more of our history, that's all."

But deep down, he had grown quite fond of your company. Perhaps a little too fond.

“Mm, do I have to learn?” You pout, tired from the day you’ve had. “Perhaps we can just relax..”

Thorin chuckled, his gruff exterior softening slightly at your pout. He knew you had been working hard and was pleasantly surprised by your suggestion to relax. 

"Hmm, you want to skip the history lesson tonight?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "And what would we do instead?"

“I could.. brush your hair! I could braid it.” You offer, not knowing the implications of your suggestion.

Thorin's eyes widened in surprise at your suggestion. He hadn't expected you to offer to brush his hair, let alone braid it. In dwarven culture, it was considered an intimate gesture, reserved for close family or lovers.

But he couldn’t deny that the idea of having you touch his hair was appealing. He found your presence soothing, and the thought of your fingers running through his hair was more enticing than he cared to admit.

"You... want to brush my hair?" he repeated, his voice gruff but tinged with a hint of curiosity. 

He shifted in his seat, watching you closely, his eyes darkened with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. He could hardly deny the effect your presence had on him, and the thought of you being so close, touching him in such an intimate way made his heart skip a beat.

“Why not?” You grin while scooting slightly closer to him. “It would be nice..”

Thorin's breath hitched as you scooted closer to him, and he found himself strangely compelled by the thought of having your hands in his hair. Despite his usual gruff and stoic demeanor, the idea of allowing you to brush and braid his hair felt oddly vulnerable.

He cleared his throat, trying to suppress his growing desire. "All right then," he grumbled, his voice betraying a hint of excitement. "You can brush my hair."

You grin, taking the brush from the table in your hands. “This is quite exciting.” You murmur, your hands on his shoulders as you kneel behind him.

Thorin felt the warmth of your hands on his shoulders as you knelt behind him, and a shiver ran down his spine. He closed his eyes, trying to compose himself as he felt your breath on the back of his neck.

"Exciting, you say?" he murmured, his voice low and gruff. "I never thought having my hair brushed would be so thrilling."

“I’ve been wanting to touch your hair for ages,” you softly undo the braids from his hair, your fingers nimbly gliding through. “It looks so soft.”

The honesty and softness in your voice sent a rush of warmth through his chest.

He swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper, "It’s not as soft as yours, I assure you."

The feeling of your fingers gliding through his hair was both soothing and arousing, sending tingles down his spine. He closed his eyes, relishing the sensation of your gentle touch.

You carefully brush through his locks, your fingers brushing against his back as you do so. 

Thorin's breath hitched slightly as your fingers trailed against his back, sending a ripple of heat through him. It took all his self-control not to lean into your touch, to feel more of your hands on his skin.

"You... have nimble fingers," he mumbled, his voice gruff and a touch huskier than usual.

“I take that, that is a compliment?” You murmur with a soft giggle as you begin to massage his scalp, the action is something your mom used to do to help you relax.

Thorin let out a low, rumbling sound of contentment as you began to massage his scalp, the tension in his muscles melting away under your touch.

He hummed in response to your question. "A compliment indeed," he murmured, his eyes closing as he leaned into your fingers. "You have a gentle touch. It's... soothing."

“Well, thank you.” Your nails gently scratch against his skin. The pads of your fingertips working at his scalp.

Thorin couldn’t help but moan softly at the pleasure of your touch, the soft scratching of your fingernails sending shocks of desire coursing through him.

He shifted slightly in his seat, trying to regain some control over his growing need. His body was on fire, every inch of him aching for more of your touch. 

"Keep that up, and you'll put me to sleep," he teased gruffly, his voice rough with suppressed desire.

“Maybe I’d like to lull you to sleep.” You tease, you adjust yourself, sitting down against the arm of the couch. “Just relax, you can lean against me.” Your legs spread, resting on either side of his body.

Thorin’s mind raced as you adjusted your position, the thought of leaning his weight against your soft body was both thrilling and terrifying. He could practically feel your thighs against his sides, and the thought was both enticing and tortuous.

But he couldn’t deny the aching need in him to give into the temptation of your offer. Without a word, he leaned back against you, his head resting on your chest as he allowed himself to relax into your embrace.

“Are you comfortable like this?” You question, fingers still working in his hair.

Thorin let out a low, rumbling hum of contentment as he leaned against you, the feeling of your fingers in his hair sending waves of pleasure through his body. 

He nodded, his voice gruff and slightly sleepy. "Yes, quite comfortable," he mumbled, his eyes closed as he savored the sensation of being so close to you. "Your hands are... quite magical, you know that?”

“They’re good for other things too…” you reply in a suggestive tone.

Thorin's eyes snapped open at your suggestive tone, his body tensing at the implication. He swallowed heavily, his mind immediately filled with vivid images of all the “other things” he wished your hands could do to him.

He cleared his throat, his voice rough and strangled. "Is that so?" he managed to reply, his eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and desire.

“Mhm,” you trail one hand down his chest. “I’ve been told that I’m quite skilled with my hands.” You bite down on your lower lip.

Thorin's heart pounded in his chest as you trailed your hand down his chest, the simple touch sending a wave of heat through his body. He swallowed heavily, the sight of you biting your lip sending his thoughts spiraling out of control.

He couldn’t deny that the thought of your skills with your hands aroused him deeply, but he fought to keep his desire in check.

"Are you now?" he managed to reply, his voice thick with suppressed need. "And who exactly has told you this?"

“They’re not important right now,” you mutter, “my focus is on you, love..” you slide your hand under his shirt, fingers brushing over his muscles.

Thorin's breath hitched at the feeling of your hand under his shirt, your touch igniting a fire in him that he could barely control. The way you referred to him as ‘love’ made his heart clench.

He let out a low, guttural sound as your fingers grazed over his muscles. Your touch was both soothing and arousing, and he found himself leaning into your hand, craving more of your touch.

"You're making it very hard to think straight," he whispered huskily.

“Mm, you’re very handsome my King.” You press a kiss to his temple, your other hand moving from his hair to his chest.

Thorin's eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of your kiss on his temple, his heart hammering in his chest at the simple yet intimate gesture.

"You... you have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. The feeling of your other hand on his chest made his muscles tense under your touch, his breath catching in his throat.

“Let me take care of you..” You move from behind him, your breasts pressing against his back as you move your hand to his trousers.

The feeling of your breasts pressing against his back sent a jolt of pleasure through Thorin’s body, and he let out a strangled gasp. He could feel the heat of you against him, and it was both tantalizing and torturous.

He swallowed heavily, his voice a hoarse whisper as he tried to fight the overwhelming desire coursing through him. "Take... take care of me?" he repeated, his eyes dark with need.

You kiss his neck as you slip your hand into his pants, fingers grazing over his hardness.

Thorin’s breath hitched as your lips brushed against his neck, followed by the feeling of your hand slipping into his pants. His body trembled with need as your fingers grazed over his hardness, and he let out a guttural moan, his head falling back against your shoulder.

"You’re... you’re driving me mad," he managed to gasp out.

“Relax. I’ll take care of you,” you whisper into his ear, your hand grasping his length.

Thorin's body tensed as your hand grasped him, a low, guttural sound escaping his lips at the sensation. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such pleasure, and the feeling of your breath on his ear sent a shiver down his spine.

He forced himself to relax, his head falling back against your shoulder as he surrendered to your touch. "Please... yes, take care of me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with need.

You comply, your thumb brushing over his tip and spreading his precum. He pulls his trousers down, exposing himself to the cool air, your hand moves around him.

You begin to stroke him gently, your hand moving with a rhythm that you've learned from his reactions. Each stroke causes his breath to hitch, each touch of your thumb sends a jolt of pleasure through his body. "Is this what you want?" You whisper, your voice a seductive purr in his ear.

Thorin's eyes squeezed shut as he nodded, his body reacting instinctively to the exquisite pleasure you were giving him. His chest heaved with each breath, his heart racing faster with every stroke. "Yes," he managed to murmur, his voice a rough growl of need. 

You lean in closer, your breath hot against his skin as you whisper sweet nothings that only served to heighten his arousal. Each word was a caress, each sound a stroke of pleasure that painted images in his mind of what was to come.

Your hand grew bolder, your strokes more deliberate as you felt his cock swell and throb in your grasp. You knew you had him right where you wanted him, and the power of it thrilled you. 

"Y/N..." he gasped out your name, his body begging for more. He was lost in the sensation, the world outside of the warmth of your embrace and the feel of your hand on him ceased to exist. 

Thorin's hand reached up to clutch the fabric of your gown, his fingers digging into the material as he fought the urge to pull you closer, to feel more of you.

Your touch grew more insistent, your hand moving faster as you felt him growing closer to release. His muscles tensed, and you knew he was close. 

"I... I need you," he whispered, his voice strained with desire. "I need all of you."

With those words, the last of his self-control snapped, and he turned to face you, his eyes burning with passion as he pulled you into a bruising kiss.

As Thorin claimed your lips in a fiery kiss, his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. The heat of your body pressed against his, and his hands began to roam, exploring the soft curves hidden beneath your gown. 

His fingers traced the lines of your corset, desperate to feel more of your skin. Your own hands moved to his broad chest, exploring the firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. Each touch, each kiss grew more feverish as you both gave in to the passion that had been simmering between you for weeks. 

Your breaths mingled, gasps and moans filling the air as the intensity of your connection grew. The fireplace cast flickering shadows on the wall, dancing in time with the rhythm of your bodies. His hands found your breasts, cupping them gently before moving to untie the corset strings.

 As the fabric fell away, revealing your naked chest, Thorin couldn’t help but worship them with his mouth, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples, making you arch into his touch with a whimper of pleasure. 

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you rocked your hips against him, feeling his hardness beneath you, begging for more. The room grew hazy with desire as you both lost yourself in the moment, the world outside forgotten in the face of the passion consuming you.

Feeling the warmth of your skin and the weight of your breasts in his hands, Thorin's desire grew more insistent, his cock straining against your stomach. He broke the kiss, panting heavily as he looked into your eyes, searching for permission to take this further. 

Your eyes met his, dark with want, and you nodded, your hands sliding down to his hips to guide his cock against your wet, eager pussy. He groaned as the head of his cock teased your entrance, the sensation sending a shock of pleasure through his body. 

With a gentle rock of your hips, you encouraged him, and he pushed forward, sheathing himself inside you with a deep, guttural moan. You gasped as he filled you completely, the sensation of him inside you like nothing you had ever felt before. 

The room spun as he began to thrust, the sound of your mingled cries and the crackling of the fire the only noises in the vast space. Each stroke was met with a whimper of pleasure from you, your body moving in perfect harmony with his, your hips rising to meet each powerful thrust. 

The intensity grew, your breaths becoming more ragged, your movements more erratic as the pleasure built within you. Thorin’s hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements, pushing deeper and faster as he chased his own release. 

Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving marks that would surely be visible tomorrow, but neither of you cared. The only thing that mattered was the overwhelming ecstasy that crashed over you both, leaving you gasping for breath and clinging to each other as the world outside the warm cocoon of his chambers faded away into insignificance.

You moaned into Thorin's mouth, feeling his cock pulse and swell as he claimed your body, the intensity of his thrusts increasing. His beard brushed against your cheeks, adding an extra layer of sensation to the already overwhelming experience. 

Your own hips met his rhythm, desperately seeking the peak of pleasure that was just out of reach. Your breaths grew quicker and shallower, your heart hammering in your chest as the pressure builds between your legs. 

Thorin's hands slid down to grasp your ass, lifting you slightly to change the angle, and the new sensation sent you spiraling over the edge. You cried out as your orgasm washed over you, your inner walls clenching around his cock, milking him for all he was worth. 

The dwarf king growled in response, his own release following closely behind, his warm seed filling you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. For a moment, you remained like that, panting and trembling in each other's arms, the only sound in the room the crackling of the fire.

Then, slowly, he pulled back, his gaze searching yours, a mix of passion, vulnerability, and something deeper that neither of you dared to name. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip, and whispered, "I never knew... I never knew it could be like this."

[fckmini]

Hii, im new to your blog and I love your work!! I was wondering if you could do a thranduil x fem elf reader who is the princess of nature so she can control nature etc and they could of met when they were younger and they were arranged to marry and fluffy ending please and thank you :))

I hope you like this @chocotacobread ! thank you SO much for requesting and feel free to send in any more that you have! :) im sorry it took so long!

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Spring - Thranduil x fem elf! Reader romantic fluff

I’m sorry if its too waffly but i wanted to write something pretty! 

Thranduil x reader relationship - fluff and romance :)

my masterlist is here - please check out some of my other work if you can!

As always please give me some feedback and please send requests <3

this is written as a part 2 to this request!!

mutuals and ppl I think might be interested: @in-darker-dreams @tolkien-fantasy @the-messy-nessie @blairsanne @aceofatook @lilunoakes @shrimpsthings @the-nerd-procrastinator @khazdith @glorfindelridesagain @therealsomajesticdonki @catnip-and-caprice @blairsanne @leafycasper @ur-gucchi-im-crocs @thelifelemonsgaveyou @emptyspace008 @iactuallyshipeveryone @zemosboy @theelfmaiden @i-did-not-mean-to @gossip-guy-of-middle-earth @catnip-and-caprice

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It was finally spring. Its arrival had always been a cherished event in the Woodland Realm, and this year was no different. A homely warmth seeped into Thranduil's skin, embracing him tenderly. The royal garden, awash with the tender hues of spring, was alive with the soft whisper of cherry blossoms. The sun’s tender touch enlivened soft petals that danced in the wind. They swirled, fluttering gently to the ground like the delicate brush of eyelashes in the morning. The King stood, a spectator to the seasons, his thoughts drifting back in time. 

Many springs ago, this very garden witnessed the first meeting of Thanduil and his beloved wife. It had been an arranged marriage, as is custom for elven royalty. The sun had been gleaming with the same fond brightness as it was now. It cast a golden hue that glittered in the iridescent dew that adorned the grass: nature's pearls. He was waiting with bated breath to meet his betrothed when she floated in. A breath of life. A sigh of sunshine. Ripples of grass blossomed beneath each step she took, leaving a constellation of wildflowers and daisies behind her.  The air was thick with pollen, heavy with the promise of new life. Otherworldly, even amongst elves. Her very essence seemed intertwined with the earth, and the elven king had been entranced from that first moment. 

“Thranduil,” her voice had been soft, melodic, “it is an honour to meet you.”

“And you, my lady,” he had replied, bowing with a grace befitting a king, though his heart had skittered like that of a newborn deer. His eyes of starlight met hers, the deep hue of the sun at dawn. Sunshine incarnate, flowers bloomed before her, but none more so than the elven king. Her smile made the world itself seem dim, her laugh was purer than the tinkling of a rushing stream. He had worn his finest robes, plaited his silver, moonlight, hair in traditional braids. Yet, hers was ornate beyond compare, decorated with a rainbow of blooms, as opalescent as an aurora. 

In that moment, two souls had entwined, as is common in elven life-bonds. Once a sapling, their marriage blossomed into a bond that neither could have anticipated. The famously icy temperament of the king thawed beneath her touch and gaze. He melted before her. Their hands, desperate for the nourishing affection of the other, would reach out, hopeful, longing like ancient roots seeking water. The time in his life before her was but a shadow of a memory, too distant and too dark to recall. 

"My King," a loving voice broke his reverie. She approached, eternally radiant, still leaving a trail of blossoming flowers behind her.

"My queen," he replied, his voice thick with warmth and reverence.

She joined him. "It is a beautiful day, is it not?" she asked, her hand slipping into his, fitting perfectly as it always had.

"It is." He replied, their eyes met, twinkling with the same light that had captivated the other all those years ago.

Together, they stood in silence, watching the cherry blossoms continue to dance in the breeze. The soft murmur of spring stirred around them. The garden, once a witness to the beginning of their love, now stands testament to its enduring strength. Its growth, how they had flourished, was much like the nature that his queen so cherished.

As they stood there, enveloped in the beauty of spring, they both knew that their love would continue to bloom, season after season, for all eternity. 

[thewulf]

In the Arms of Fate || Aragorn

Summary: Request - During the war with Sauron, she gets kidnapped and tortured badly by Saruman. Aragorn and the others immediately get on a mission to rescue her and eventually find her barely alive... Read Rest Here

A/N: This was tough to write but I really like how it turned out. Thank you for the amazing requests anon, hope you all enjoy!

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Word Count: 4,600 +

TW: talks of torture, pain, reader gets taken, general LOTR triggers

In the middle of the raging war against Sauron you found yourself drawn to the Fellowship not only by fate but by your own unique blend of skills and qualities that made you an indispensable member of the group. Aragorn quickly recognized your unwavering loyalty and the depth of your courage. He insisted on your inclusion in the Fellowship. He saw in you a kindred spirit as someone who shared his determination to see the quest through to the end.

Your skills were varied and essential to the success of the Fellowship. As a seasoned fighter you were proficient in various forms of combat. You sported weapons with precision and grace. But it wasn't just your prowess on the battlefield that set you apart. It was also your keen intellect and quick thinking that made you invaluable to the group. You possessed a sharp mind and a strategic approach to problem-solving, often providing crucial insights and solutions during moments of peril. Even Legolas looked to you for guidance from time to time.

Gimli was initially skeptical of your presence in the Fellowship. But even he soon came to appreciate the depth of your skills and the strength of your character. Your friendship with him grew as you shared stories of battles fought and victories won. You formed a bond that transcended the differences between your races. Together you and Gimli formed a formidable duo. Your strengths complementing each other in ways that made the Fellowship stronger as a whole.

With Legolas, your relationship was characterized by playful banter and teasing exchanges. From the moment you met there was a natural rapport between you. It was like a shared understanding that lent itself to lighthearted jests and witty banter. Legolas never missed an opportunity to tease you. His playful remarks eliciting laughter and smiles even in the darkest of times. Despite the teasing there was a deep form of friendship between you. Formed through shared experiences and mutual respect. He loved to tease you, especially about a certain ranger that had captured your heart with ease. It was on one particular eve that Legolas had let you know that he knew too. He wasn’t blind. He caught your longing looks. But he too caught Aragorn staring right back at you.

The evening was alive with the crackling of the campfire and the soft rustle of the forest around you. As you sat beside the fire completely lost in thought, Legolas approached with his characteristic grace, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Ah, Y/N, lost in thought again?" he remarked. A teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. And he likely did.

You chuckled softly turning to face him. "Just contemplating our next move," you replied, though your thoughts were anything but focused on strategy. Instead, they drifted to a certain ranger sitting across the way who occupied far too much space in your mind.

Legolas arched an eyebrow, his keen gaze fixing on you with knowing amusement. "Or perhaps," he suggested with a knowing smirk, "you're pondering a particular king’s pining for you?"

Your cheeks flushed crimson at his words, and you sputtered in protest. "Wha—no, Legolas, you're imagining things," you stammered. It was a terrible attempt to brush off his teasing with a nervous laugh.

But Legolas only chuckled. His soft laughter mingling with the gentle crackle of the fire. "Oh, come now, Y/N,” he teased, his tone light and playful. "Even the trees can see the way he looks at you. And you him. It's as clear as the stars in the night sky."

You rolled your eyes. Though a part of you couldn't help but wonder if there was a kernel of truth to Legolas's jests. Aragorn's lingering glances and subtle gestures had not gone unnoticed by you. Though you had dismissed them as mere figments of your imagination. "He's just... concerned for my well-being, that's all," you insisted, though doubt lingered in the back of your mind. "We're friends, nothing more."

Legolas's smile widened as his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Of course, Y/N," he replied. His tone dripping with elvish sarcasm. "Just friends."

As he walked away quiet as ever leaving you to figure out you conflicting emotions, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps there was more truth to Legolas's teasing than you dared to admit. But for now, you pushed aside your doubts instead focusing on the task at hand and the challenges that lay ahead. You couldn’t let that distract you of all things. You had Hobbits to find after all.

As for Aragorn, the dynamics of your relationship were markedly different. From the moment he laid eyes on you Aragorn was captivated by your strength, courage, and insane determination. He found himself drawn to you in a way he couldn't fully explain. His heart skipping a beat whenever you were near. Despite his stoic demeanor Aragorn found himself unable to hide his feelings for you. His affection and admiration shining through in subtle gestures and meaningful glances. Whether it was a reassuring touch on the shoulder or a lingering gaze across the campfire Aragorn's love for you was evident to all who knew him. Maybe except for you.

And though you tried to hide it, the effect he had on you was undeniable. Your cheeks would flush with color whenever he spoke. Your heart deciding to skip a beat at the mere sound of his voice. Despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of composure Aragorn had a way of unraveling your defenses. His presence stirring emotions within you that you struggled to contain.

The Battle of Helm's Deep raged on with unrelenting ferocity. The clash of steel and the roar of orcs echoing through the valley. As darkness descended upon the fortress you stood shoulder to shoulder with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. Your heart was pounding with adrenaline, determination, and a touch of fear.

Together, you fought valiantly against the relentless tide of enemies. Your blades flashing in the dim light as you defended the walls of Helm's Deep with all your strength. But as the battle wore on fatigue began to set in and the odds seemed increasingly insurmountable. In the chaos of the fray the enemy's forces surged forward with renewed fury. You were overwhelmed. The defenders of Helm's Deep were overwhelmed with their sheer numbers. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli fought with unmatched skill and valor. Their resolve unbroken even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.

In the middle the chaos and confusion tragedy struck for you. As the defenders of Helm's Deep rallied for one final stand you found yourself separated from your companions. Unfortunately surrounded by a horde of wargs and orcs. With grim determination you fought with all your might. Every strike of your blade a desperate attempt to fend off the encroaching darkness.

But it was not enough.

As the enemy closed in around you completely overwhelming you with their sheer numbers, you felt a surge of despair wash over you. Your strength faltered and your movements began growing sluggish as exhaustion threatened to consume you whole. And then in a moment of cruel fate you were seized by the snarling jaws of a warg. You were dragged away from the safety of the fortress just as the offenders began to retreat. You were a prize.

Aragorn's heart constricted with dread as he watched helplessly from afar. His voice lost amidst the din of battle as he called out your name in desperation. His pleas were a cruel reminder of how quickly things could change. With every fiber of his being he longed to rush to your aid. To fight tooth and nail to rescue you from the clutches of the enemy. But the tide of battle had turned, and he had no time to rush after you for he would likely die in the cause.

And so, as Helm's Deep fell silent in the wake of the enemy's retreat. Aragorn's heart weighed heavy with grief and guilt. For though the battle had been won. The cost had been immeasurable. And the fate of his beloved remained uncertain, lost amidst the darkness that lurked beyond the walls of Helm's Deep.

In the grim depths of Saruman's fortress, you endured unspeakable torment at the hands of your captors. From the moment they laid hands on you their cruelty knew no bounds. Their twisted minds delighting in the suffering they inflicted upon you. They reveled in your screams of agony. Their laughter echoing off the cold stone walls as they subjected you to unimaginable pain and suffering. Every blow, every cut, every moment of pain was a sickening game to them. A twisted form of entertainment that they relished with sadistic glee.

But despite their best efforts to break your spirit you refused to fold. With every fiber of your being you clung to life with a tenacity that defied comprehension. You endured their tortures with a steely resolve. Your will to survive burning bright even in the darkest of moments. They tried their best to break you. To strip away your humanity and reduce you to nothing more than a shell of your former self. But still you fought on. Your spirit unbroken even as your body bore the scars of their cruelty.

In the depths of despair, you found a flicker of hope—a tiny ember of defiance that refused to be extinguished. And though they tried to snuff it out. To drown it in a sea of pain and despair, still it burned bright within you. It was Aragorn. He was your salvation. Your thoughts that brought light within your darkness. You couldn’t break. Not when you knew was alive and fighting to see you again.

And so, as the minutes turned into days and the days turned into weeks, you clung to life with a determination that seemed to defy reason. For though they sought to destroy you. To crush your spirit beneath their heel. Still, you refused to surrender, your will to survive burning bright even in the face of unspeakable evil. You began to worry they may tire of you. That they may get bored and kill you despite your efforts to survive.

In the grim confines of Saruman's fortress sustenance was a meager and scarce commodity, doled out sparingly by your captors. Each day you received barely enough to sustain your frail body. The meager rations serving as a cruel reminder of your dire circumstances. The food was tasteless. The water stagnant and foul. Yet you choked it down with grim determination. You did it in hopes of seeing Aragorn again. Maybe just maybe you could confess your love to him for this journey made you finally realize your feelings for him.

You couldn't bear the thought of leaving this world laying bare the depths of your heart and soul to him. And so, even as your body grew weak and your spirit faltered, you held fast to the hope that one day, somehow, you would find your way back to him.

As the news of Saruman's demise spread throughout Middle earth a small bit of hope rose within the hearts of those who had suffered under his tyranny. For you, however, trapped within the depths of Orthanc's dungeons, the passing of the once-great wizard brought no relief from your torment.

Barely clinging to life as your body was ravaged by weeks of unspeakable suffering. You lay in darkness your breaths shallow and labored. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you teetered on the brink of oblivion. Your spirit beginning to falter by the weight of despair.

But in the cruelty of the shadows that engulfed you a faint whisper of hope stirred within your soul—a feeling, a sensation that you couldn't quite explain. It was as if a part of you knew deep down that your salvation was at hand. That somehow, someway, your beloved Aragorn was close and would come for you.

And come for you he did.

Driven by a gnawing sense of unease. A feeling that he couldn't shake, Aragorn ventured into the depths of Orthanc. His heart weighed heavy with dread and determination. Guided by instinct and a love that knew no bounds he searched tirelessly for any sign of your presence. His footsteps echoing through the cold stone corridors as it laid eerily quiet at Saruman’s demise.

And then, at long last, he found you.

Tucked away in the darkest recesses of the dungeons, barely visible amidst the shadows, lay your frail form. Your breaths barely there, faint. Aragorn's heart constricted with anguish at the sight of you, his beloved, so close to the brink of death.

With trembling hands and a voice choked with emotion. Aragorn gathered you into his arms. He cradled you against his chest as if he could shield you from the darkness that threatened to take you from him. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he whispered words of love and reassurance. His voice was a soothing balm to your battered soul.

As he held you in his arms as gently as he could he broke down. "Gandalf! Legolas! Gimli! Anyone, help!" His cries reverberated through the silent halls of Orthanc. Each plea in desperation for your salvation. He cried for someone to come to your aid.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he cradled you against his chest, his heart breaking at the sight of you—so frail, so vulnerable, so close to slipping away from him forever. He whispered for you to hold on. His voice raw with emotion as he begged you to stay with him just a little while longer. But you remained unconscious. Your breaths shallow and labored, your life hanging by the slimmest of threads.

As Aragorn's desperate calls for help echoed through the halls of Orthanc. His heart broke with fear and anguish. Though finally his cries were answered. Gandalf, Legolas, and Gimli came running, drawn by the urgency and desperation in Aragorn's voice. Their faces paled at the sight that greeted them. Your frail form cradled in Aragorn's arms, barely clinging to life.

Gimli, his usually stoic demeanor crumbling in the face of such tragedy, sank to his knees beside you. His heart heavy with sorrow. "By the beard of Durin," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "What have they done to you, lass?"

Legolas with eyes wide of shock and horror, approached tentatively. His usual grace replaced by a raw vulnerability as tears welled in his eyes. "Nay, this cannot be," he whispered. His voice trembling with grief. "Not Y/N... not like this."

Gandalf had a grave expression on his face as he stepped forward. His gaze piercing as he took in the extent of your injuries. "We must act swiftly," he declared. His voice commanding. "There is still hope, but time is of the essence."

With a sense of urgency, they rallied together. Their hearts heavy with grief but their resolve unyielding. With shaking hands Aragorn carried you from the depths of Orthanc, his footsteps echoing heavy through the silent halls as they emerged into the light of day.

As time grew short and the urgency of the situation became increasingly apparent, Gandalf knew that swift action was needed to save you. With a wave of his staff and a word of command he called forth one of the Great Eagles. Ancient creatures who served as allies to the free peoples of middle earth.

As Gandalf summons the Great Eagle to take you to Lothlórien Aragorn's determination to stay by your side remained unyielding. With a glance at the rest of the Fellowship he knew that their journey will be swift on horseback as the Great Eagle could not carry them all.

"Aragorn," Gandalf begins, his voice carrying a sense of urgency, "time is of the essence. We must act swiftly to save Y/N."

Aragorn nods solemnly, his gaze unwavering as he turns to Gandalf. "I will take her on the eagle to ensure she receives the care she needs. The rest of you must ride with haste to Lothlórien. I will meet you there." Gandalf and the others exchange a knowing look. Understanding the weight of Aragorn's decision. With a nod of agreement Gandalf turned to the rest of the Fellowship.

"We ride for Lothlórien," Gandalf declares, his voice echoing with authority. "May the Valar watch over us all."

As Aragorn carries you in his arms and mounts the Great Eagle the rest of the Fellowship saddles their horses and sets off towards Lothlórien knowing it would delay their plans to get to Mordor. But for you they knew they had to. With a sense of urgency driving them forward they rode with haste. Their hearts heavy with worry yet filled with hope that you will receive the care and healing you so desperately need.

After what felt like a lifetime to Aragon Great Eagle descended upon the lush treetops of Lothlórien. Aragorn's urgent pleas for help echo through the elven realm. Celeborn alerted by the urgency in Aragorn's voice, rushed forward from the heart of Lothlórien.

With swift steps, Celeborn reaches Aragorn's side just as the eagle touched down. He sees the urgency in Aragorn's eyes and the battered state of your body and without a moment's hesitation he takes you from Aragorn's arms. His expression a mix of concern and determination.

"Bring her to me," Celeborn commands. His voice carrying an air of authority.

Aragorn watches with a mixture of relief and apprehension as Celeborn rushes towards the healing chambers of Lothlórien. His skilled hands cradling you gently. With each step Aragorn's heart pounds with worry, but he knows that you are in good hands.

As Celeborn disappears into the depths of Lothlórien Aragorn's thoughts turn to the rest of the Fellowship who are still traveling on horseback. He knows that they will arrive soon with their hearts heavy with concern for you. He worried for you. For Frodo and Sam who were continuing their journey ahead. For the delay all of this brought. But he couldn’t seem to care about that all knowing the woman he loved was on the brink of death. The woman who was always so full of life may be taken from him far too soon. Before he could confess his true feelings.

With a silent prayer on his lips, he followed Celeborn into the healing chambers. His determination to see you healed burning brighter than ever. And as he stands vigil by your side surrounded by the gentle beauty of Lothlórien, he knows that though the road ahead may be long and fraught with peril. But together you will face whatever challenges come your way

As hours pass in Lothlórien, Celeborn's efforts to heal you are met with frustratingly little progress. Despite his skill and knowledge your condition remains unchanged. Leaving both him and Aragorn filled with growing despair. Realizing that more drastic measures are needed, Celeborn calls upon his wife, Galadriel, for assistance. Together they work tirelessly through the and night. Their combined powers focused on bringing you back from the darkness of unconsciousness.

Aragorn watched with a heavy heart as Galadriel joins Celeborn in the healing chambers. Her presence a glimmer of hope amidst the peril that threatened to consume him. He knows that if anyone can help you it is the Lady of the Wood, with all her wisdom and grace.

Days turn into nights and still you remain unresponsive. You were lost in a realm of unconsciousness from which you seem unable to awaken. Aragorn's faith began to waver. His heart heavy with doubt and fear as he watches Galadriel and Celeborn work tirelessly to save you. But just when all seems lost, a miracle occurred. After a few days of ceaseless effort, Galadriel kneels beside your bedside and offers a rare prayer to the Valar. Her voice is soft but filled with conviction as she calls upon their aid. Her plea echoing through the halls of Lothlórien.

And then as if in response to her prayer, you stir from your slumber. Your eyes fluttering open for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Aragorn's heart leapt with joy as he watches you awaken. His faith restored in the power of love.

With tears of relief streaming down his cheeks, Aragorn gathers you into his arms. Holding you close as he whispers words of gratitude and love. As you lay there finally awake but still weak and fragile, Aragorn's emotions overwhelm him. Tears stream down his face as he gathers you into his arms holding you close with a fierce, desperate grip but gentle so not to hurt you further.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I love you more than words can express, my love. You cannot leave me again. Please, never leave me again. Please."

His words are a plea. A prayer whispered into the stillness of the healing chambers. His heart ached with the fear of losing you. The fear of facing a world without the light of your presence beside him. And as he holds you close, his tears mingling with yours. He knew that he would give anything to keep you safe. To protect you from harm. As he pours out his heart to you, he realizes just how much you mean to him—how much he needs you by his side, now and always.

"You love me?" you whisper. Your voice barely above a breath as you look up at him, your eyes searching his for confirmation.

Aragorn's laughter fills the air. A warm and comforting sound that washes over you like sunlight breaking through the clouds. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and reassuring.

"Did I not make it so obvious my wayward love?" he replies, his voice teasing yet tender as he meets your gaze with a smile.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at his words. You can't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest. Galadriel and Celeborn who have been observing the exchange with amusement, share a knowing look, their eyes twinkling with mirth of the love unfolding before them.

But in that moment as you gaze into Aragorn's eyes and share a laugh together all your worries and fears seem to melt away. For in his arms surrounded by the love and support of your companion, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead you will face them with him. Your beloved.

And as the laughter fades into a comfortable silence, you rest your head against Aragorn's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. With his arms wrapped around you, you know that you are home.

As Celeborn and Galadriel summon the rest of the Fellowship, the healing chambers soon fill with the familiar faces of your companions. Their expressions a mix of relief and joy at the sight of you awake, alive and with that smile adorning your soft features.

Gimli with his gruff exterior softened by the depth of his concern, rushes forward to your side. His eyes were brimming with tears. "By Durin's beard, lass! I thought I'd never see you awake again," he exclaims, his voice trembling with emotion as he clasps your hand tightly in his own.

Gandalf had his wise eyes shining with warmth, approaches with a gentle smile. "It is good to see you awake, my dear friend," he spoke. His voice filled with genuine relief. "You have faced darkness and emerged victorious. You are stronger than you will ever know."

Legolas, his fair face radiant with joy, stepped forward with a soft smile. "I am glad to see you awake, mellon nin," he smiled to you. His voice gentle and sincere. "The world is a brighter place with you in it."

Merry and Pippin, their youthful exuberance infectious as always rush to your side with wide smiles on their faces. "You had us worried there for a moment," Merry says, his voice filled with relief. "But you're back with us now and that's all that matters."

Pippin nods eagerly as his eyes shining with unshed tears. "We thought we'd lost you," he admits, his voice wavering with emotion. "But you're a fighter, just like Aragorn said. You'll always come back to us."

As the Fellowship gathers around you with their voices filled with laughter and tears. You felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over you. As you were surrounded by the love and support of your friends you know that no matter what trials may come your way you will always have each other.

As the night descended upon Lothlórien after you woke, Aragorn remained by your side as the rest of the Fellowship retired. His love and devotion unwavering as he tends to your every need.

With gentle hands he washes away the grime and dirt of your ordeal away. His touch tender and reassuring against your skin. He cleanses away the scars of battle as his fingers trace each line and mark with care, as if trying to erase the memories of pain that linger there.

As he helps you change into fresh clothes his gaze never strays from yours. His eyes were filled with an intensity of emotion that took your breath away. He spoke softly. His voice a soothing melody that fills the silence of the healing chambers.

"You are my light in the dark," he whispered softly to you. His words a declaration of love that echoes in the stillness of the night. "You are the reason I fight, the reason I endure. Without you I am lost my love."

Tears fill your eyes at his words. The depth of his love overwhelming in its intensity. "And you are mine," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach out to touch his face. "You are the reason I am alive, the reason I kept going. Even in the worst of times."

As the soft glow of moonlight filters through the canopy of leaves above Aragorn's adoration for you seems to shine even brighter. With every touch, every whispered word, he worships you as if you were a goddess descended from the heavens themselves.

He kneels before you, his eyes alight with reverence. He places gentle kisses upon your hands, your cheeks, your forehead, as if each kiss is a silent prayer to the gods, thanking them for blessing him with your presence. Thanking them for letting you live.

"I am unworthy of your love," he murmurs. His voice filled with sincerity as he gazes up at you with awe. "But I swear to you, I will spend every moment of my life trying to prove myself worthy of you."

His words melt your heart. Filling you with a warmth that spreads from the tips of your fingers to the depths of your soul. You reach out to cup his face in your hands, tracing the lines of his jaw with your fingers. Feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath your touch.

"You are more than worthy," you whisper, your voice barely a breath as you gaze into his eyes, seeing the depth of his love reflected back at you. "You are my everything, Aragorn. Without you I am nothing."

As you hold each other close surrounded by the quiet beauty of the elven realm. You know that nothing in this world could ever tear you apart. For in each other's arms, you have found a love that transcends time and space. A love that is as boundless as the stars themselves and as enduring as the ages to come.

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[two-white-butterflies]

★ — cassandra | thranduil

Description: Cassandra: shining upon man, a name bestowed by the mortals that surrounded your husband's kingdom. Being bestowed the gift of foresight, you have seen things in motion - that is until a tragedy happens. One that you did not foresee.

"What is it like to be a prophet? Everywhere Cassandra went she found that she was already there."

Pairing: thranduil/reader. (elrond's daughter)

Genre: angst [major character death]

Warning: I make my own timeline.

There were many things in the darkness that stayed unseen. The darkness plagued your dreams, a tangible darkness that watched in the background beside you as the events unfolded. As a child, the dreams were tame - Elladan breaking your mother's favorite vase or Elrohir scraping his knees while running down the halls.

When you grew older, the dreams turned grim. The tangible darkness that used to watch beside you now became a character of these dreams. It played in your head repeatedly; Greenwood marred by darkness, the elves fleeing to Valinor.

It haunted you.

"My child." Ada places a guiding hand on your shoulder. One of the few elves that shared your burden of foresight. "Darling," he whispered seeing the tears pool on the corners of your eyes.

Despite his gentle nudging, all attempts of reviving you from the drown - the trance does not break. You remain inside your dream. Elrond furrows his eyebrows, sensing fear and sadness in you.

"Does she wake?" Elladan leans on the doorframe.

This has been a common occurrence in the household. When the moon is in clarity, and the members in deep sleep - they get stirred awake by the sound of your tears - by the sound of objects falling from your room. "No," Elrond responds seeing your tight grip on the bedsheet - mumbling curses that he could not fathom.

A sigh escapes the younger twin's mouth.

He takes a step towards the bed, sitting beside the plump pillows that surrounded her body. "You must jump off the boat now," he mumbled, reaching for your clenched fists - opening it slowly. "When the rain comes we'll prepare the barrels, but awaken and enjoy the warmth of the sun." he pleaded.

Out of all the siblings, Elladan admired you the most. His oldest sister who had a gentle disposition and a caring voice. He did not like seeing you in pain; haunted by the inevitable.

Almost instantly, your eyes opened.

Father tries to calm you down but you are haunted. You tried to break free from the haunting, but something prevents you to speak. That tangible darkness that continued to hold you back.

You clawed at your forearm. In disbelief of what's to come.

"Naneth," you managed to whisper out. At the end of the night, you weren't alone in the haunting.

Soon after the prophecy, your father called for all his soldiers to trek the dangerous road that your mother was travelling on. Elladan tried to ask you questions, but there were no words that left your mouth. You tried to speak, tried to open your mouth - but no sound escaped.

'Everywhere Cassandra ran, she found that she was already there.'

A month later, Elladan and Elrohir arrived carrying the shell of your mother. All remnants of self-control leaves your body.

"She'll live. Your father is the greatest healer in all of Arda." your grandsire comforts, you burrow deeper into the sheets.

Celeborn takes a deep breath.

"There are scars that cannot be healed by time." the first time you spoke in months. You turned your body to look at him. Seeing the very same fear, sadness and anger in his eyes.

There were titles bestowed to people with deceased parents. There were titles bestowed to people with deceased lovers. But there were no titles bestowed to those with deceased children, for they shall be title-less and the greatest honors be taken away.

The following day, mother left for the Grey Havens. She left no comforting words or letters, but she kissed your foreheads in the middle of the night and father escorted her to the shores.

"My child," Galadriel smiles warmly, seeing you leaning on the doorframe as she broke her fast with your siblings. "- sit, you must eat." her voice was filled with tenderness.

Then suddenly memories of your mother's imprisonment flash through your eyes - your appetite is ruined for years to come. Galadriel tries to open her mouth again but you run away.

You run away from the dreams that plague your mind.

"Will she be alright?" Arwen inquires. They were used to your terrible dreams, even admired the times that you'd push through with a smile on your face, but this reaction was new to them.

Fleeing and disassociating with reality.

With their mother gone and their oldest sister drowning.

The family was lost too.

Lady Galadriel takes a sip of her tea, watching as her good-son attempts to mask his sorrow. That's what they were all doing, anyways. Hiding their grief because it's much easier than facing the truth, that Celebrian is in the Grey Havens and they are alone.

Alone again.

Alone until they decide to flee; it will be a long time. It will take centuries and thousands of years.

"She must come with me." she breathes.

Elrond's eyebrows merge together. "My daughter must stay here." he argued, not wanting another member of his family to be out of reach.

"She dreamt of her mother. She's seen the atrocities of which Celebrian refuses to speak of - I know that you have experience with this too but her dreams are different, not detached verses of massacres and war but personal deaths. She needs my help, and the love that I bare for her is deep and true. I feel her pain." Galadriel continues. She wanted to protect you. Forever.

"- my daughter was scarred, wounds inflicted upon her soul. I fear that these dreams may happen again, that she may dream of a future that we cannot see - and we'll lose her." she whispered.

Elrond reluctantly agrees with Galadriel's plan.

Your father was right!

Lothlorien filled you with tranquility. A feeling of safety that you've lost to the abyss. It felt like your mother's embrace, caging you and preventing the fall. Lady Galadriel continued monitoring you - keeping the darkness at bay, ensuring that you wouldn't remember your dreams even if they were to happen at night.

Soon after, happiness returned.

One night, while you were sleeping - your dreams were able to seep through the web of your grandmother's enchantment, and you dreamt of an elven-prince.

He was fair in the face, his hair was long and golden. He wore a crown of flowers and his voice was like honey to the ear. His name was Prince Thranduil of Greenwood, and he was to be yours.

(AMON LANC)

"What causes your joy, meleth?" Thranduil wraps his arms around your waist, allowing the moonlight to illuminate your features.

"I remembered something." you hummed, burying your face in his chest. The smell of vanilla and sandalwood invades your nose. You continued inhaling his scent, a scent that reminded you of home. "Pray tell," he whispered - allowing the peace to settle in your chambers. "The birth of our twins," you smiled.

The happiest day of your life. Erynlas and Legolas were born, they were born in the longest summer of Greenwood. Your father told you that it was a good omen, that your children would bring good harvest. The locals of Laketown were quick to send gifts down the river for the elfling, and all was well in Arda.

"I remember your panic-stricken face." you pointed out, he responded with a small chuckle. "I was afraid, but seeing our children brought relief." he admitted.

"We must enjoy it while it lasts. I remember Elladan and Elrohir, they grew up swiftly and my parents were left longing for the days when they were elflings." you continued. "Our children inherited your gentle disposition," he noted.

"- and none of your petulance." you were quick to retort.

"None yet." he smiled, as if knowing something that I didn't.

There was silence between them; the kind of silence that persevered between two people who understood one another.

"You were dreaming, yesterday." he opened his mouth, unable to see your face that was buried in his chest. "Dreaming about what?" you raised an eyebrow, long having forfeited the power of remembering your dreams. "You were mumbling things, kept saying 'no'." he reported, concern was evident in his features.

As much as you tried to remember the dreams, you couldn't.

"Was it your foresight that made you dream such?" he inquired. Your eyebrows merged together, and that familiar tightness on your chest returned. What if something was to happen on your family?

You had to exhaust every possible option to keep them safe. "I-I don't know, but it could've been just a nightmare." you comforted him. You pulled away from his embrace, opting to stare at his face.

"- and if it wasn't then I promise to keep us safe." you promised.

"I promise the same." he vowed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "- but you must rest, for we shall have an early morning tomorrow." he noted, reminding you that you were about to leave Amon Lanc to escape the darkness that wished to take hold of Greenwood.

You awakened in the middle of the night. Lifting the covers off your body, you frowned, not seeing your husband so you decide to tiptoe towards the children's rooms. A groan escapes your mouth, feeling that horrible headache forming at the back of your head. Could this be? This must be another one of your dreams.

Your husband was telling you about the words that escaped your mouth whilst sleeping. Was the truth about to reveal itself?

You walked through the empty hallways, seeing no guards on their post. Peculiar. Your hands danced through the fabric of the tapestries that littered the walls. Weaves of forests and elves.

Even art created by Thranduil.

You entered the Twins' bedroom, seeing them slumber peacefully in their beds. Erynlas, the heir, inherited your husband's features. Her long flowing locks and piercing blue eyes, a copy of your husband.

Legolas, was the same, although he had your eyes and your demeanor. He was always patient, allowing his sister to play with his toys, not shedding a single tear when she grabs it from his hands.

You pressed a kiss to both of their foreheads.

If this was a dream, then why isn't anything happening?

Have your dreams evolved to find a different form? That tangible darkness wasn't watching or standing beside you. The darkness wasn't in this room. Have you found peace?

You shouldn't have spoken too soon, because a second later a dagger was pressed to her neck. "Look what I've found," the human opened his mouth with a chuckle. They were mercenaries. You've seen that crest before, but you couldn't remember where.

"Idiot, the bounty says that we're supposed to kill the prince." the other man rolled his eyes, but the man holding a dagger to your neck chuckled. "I think this ones an elf, a princess methinks." he took a slice of your neck, allowing little blood to trickle down your nightgown.

This scene has already played before, in your dreams, but you couldn't remember it - you couldn't remember until it's already happened. And wherever you went, you found that you were already there. "I wonder how much they'd pay for her head." he pondered.

"The Lurgburz would give us a fortune, but we were sent here to kill an heir. She is not an heir." the other man responded. You wanted to speak, but the darkness prevents you from raising your voice. 'I am an heir too. Lord Elrond's.' but the visions make you mute.

There were tears spilling out of your eyes. You felt weak. Hopeless against them.

"Then let's kill the prince's heir. Much easier than killing the prince. He's a great warrior, I've heard and if his wife's awake. Won't he be awake too?" the man continued holding the dagger on your neck.

"Which means that we have to make this quick." the other man reached for the dagger in his pockets. "Which one's the heir?" the man stared at you, and he'll forever be haunted by that look in your eyes. Red, wide, in fear.

"No," you mumbled watching as the other man stands in the middle of their cribs. "If you don't tell us then we'll kill them both." he threatened and air runs out of your lungs.

"No," you continued to mumble. They found joy in toying with you. They found joy in threatening a creature that was older than them. The other man lifted Erynlas' blankets, seeing a pink nightgown on her body. "This one's the heir," the other man stated.

"We should kill the boy, a boy is more valuable than a girl." the man surmised, forcing his mortal standards unto your elvish ones. "No, not the boy." you whispered - your subconscious knowing something that your conscious mind didn't.

Your subconscious knew that Legolas was the key to Arda's freedom. That he'd be a part of the Fellowship, and thus, he couldn't die. "She speaks," the other man teased, raising his dagger pointing it on your daughter's neck. And the tangible darkness that used to haunt you, that used to watch beside you, became a guiding hand.

Told you to grab Legolas and run.

The man's grip on you softened, he walked towards your daughter's crib. "No, no...." you mumbled, staring at the room once covered with leaves and little toys that you bought from Laketown.

You reluctantly reach for Legolas in his bed. Lifting him off the mattress while he continued his slumber. The darkness told you that Erynlas was born to die, while your son was born to live.

You walked down the stairs, about to return to your chambers but the darkness stops you from doing that. Instead leading you towards King Oropher's chambers. You open his doors - to your surprise they weren't locked tonight.

King Oropher stirs awake, seeing a figure enter his chambers. "Good morrow?" he paused, thinking that it was his handmaidens that had come to wake him. But once his vision turns back to normal, he realizes that it was you - and he sees the tears in your eyes, lips mumbling words that he could not fathom.

He repeats your name, seeing you sit on the floor - rocking your body back and forth. He was about to speak again, but you prevent him from doing so. "They took the heir." you cried out - unable to even speak like a mother, in fear, forced to speak like your perpetrators.

A/N: Made for my own self-indulgence. Inspired by EP1 of HOTDS2.